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Brendon paced in his room, the dark purple walls enclosing him away from his parents and siblings.
He wanted to get out, get away from the world he lived in and go somewhere far away, away from the people who'd never understand him.
He thought it'd be easy, just pack up and leave without anyone noticing, but when you're sixteen years old, it's really not that easy. Brendon tried once. Tried running away, coming up on a year now. He was only fifteen at the time and he'd just come out to his parents that he was gay.
They laughed at him.
They laughed at him and told him no, no he was not gay. Told him he liked girls and he was just saying this ridiculous thing because he was still a kid and he wanted to rebel against his parents. They weren't going to fall for it, of course not, they could see right through him. They were the parents after all, they're always right, aren't they?
Not in this case, because Brendon is gay and he doesn't care what his parents have to say about it. Except part of him does care and he wants them to accept it because he's still the same person he was the minute, the second, before he told them, and just because he likes guys, that doesn't make him any different. He's still Brendon, regardless of who he's attracted to.
Brendon packed a bag and tried to sneak out of his bedroom window and ended up losing his grip and falling to the ground from the second floor of the house and his father heard him. Brendon still took off running down the road, but his father was faster and caught up to him. Only because he was in a car and made Brendon get in. They put locks on the outside of the windows and grounded him for a month.
Now he's trying to come up with a plan to try and run away again.
A whole year later and they still don't believe him.
He sits on his bed and puts his head in his hands, staring down at his slightly unkempt white and red converse.
He knew he wouldn't get away with it. Just like the last time, he'd never get far enough away from them. He was stuck for the next two years and there was really nothing he could do about it.
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Brendon thinks about ditching school and running away from home, but he doesn't have anything with him that he needs. No extra clothes, his phone charger, the stash of money he's been saving in an old shoes box for two years. He's trying to save for a new laptop, but hey, maybe he can get a job for that when he manages to get away from this place.
He's halfway to school, the place he likes more than his own home, and he stops at the crosswalk when the red hand signals for him not to cross. Brendon had to convince his parents to let him continue to walk to school after that night, but they didn't give in until the next school year. There's only a month left of school before summer break, and then Brendon will be a junior.
