Epiphany was ought to unearth the enigmatic energy of his psyche's most esteemed prepossession of onerous integrity. Swathed sweetly into the pensive profundity of his heart, it was demanding deceitfully to be known to all, crushed in the cumbersome cage, swaddled sentiently, it was time to say what was haunting deliriously, resounding reasonably, testing tentatively: his identity.
He necessitated a hesitant step towards the direction of the drawing-room, pausing abruptly to strain his hearing and reevaluate his thoughts. Desisting enough, he gathered the incense of hope that entreated upon his essence enduringly and walked a lonesome walk that provided him with a sense of self-solace, an assurance in the way his limbs synchronised to comprehend what he needed from them most urgently, understood what he expected deliberately to be known and helped him in a way most arduously.
Cowardice was inherently an option amassed in the fables fabricated and fermented with time, dilating their insignificance and popularising the bravery required necessarily to follow through life's precarious plan. Self-consolation was dubiously demeaning him of his prized strength and overthinking was leading him astray, far aft from his premeditated purpose.
Communion, eyes bridging the discrepancy, forthcoming and fervent, beckon him over silently. Silence ensued amidst the thunderstorm, a tenor of lamenting thoughts, a shrill of bashful droughts. At his mind's compelling behest, he worded his thoughts precisely, stuttering somewhere between those glaring gazes, his resolve never faltered. Greyish blue orbs reflected the smooth and scintillating brim of the fresh Calla lilies, brimming with the hopeful mist mirroring the faith alike for rainfall in the barren wastelands of a desert.
Clause, there was often a premeditated, unintentional pause that followed before a whirlwind, nature's inference in the matter of a consequential catastrophe, rendering the Earth's living matter to either overthink or underestimate the unattributed nature of such an imposition. What was presumed to be a prolonged silence carried forth by an unusual state of calmness, was abruptly abandoned like the aforementioned feelings of inordinate analysation, accompanied by nonchalant behavioural instincts?
"You are an utter disappointment, Emmett."
"What do you mean by that, Mum? I don't understand.."
"You are precisely aware of it, son. I do hate repeating myself."
"I beg of you, do not judge me because of this, my sexuality is an inherent piece of who I am, it is something that cannot be ruled by expectations. I am asking you to have faith in me, as my parents, more or less."
"That is more than enough, Emmett We do not need to listen to this nonsensical chatter, we have had it."
"If you could just listen to me with some patience, Dad. Let me explain it to you both, let's talk this out instead of making petty assumptions about how I might not be whom you had supposedly thought I should be."
"There is nothing to discuss here, you've made your choice and we are helpless. We expected so much from you and yet, it was all in vain."
"We are not helpless, Claire. We can get someone to help him, rid him of this shrouded impersonation, I am certain."
"What is wrong with you lot? I cannot believe this."
"That's it, get out."
He slowly blinked, aghast with what he could so comprehensively perceive. This had to be a nightmare, for once, he wished it to be so. With trembling limbs and stuttering speech, he knew it was a futile endeavour but he hoped for it to be untrue. Wishes, forged in fancy fantasia and tuned with forked realism, ebbed into the mainstream of mixed emotions, could only attempt so much as to beseech tentatively, hoping for it to accomplish anything but the ferocious truth.
The process of realisation had never been so tediously troublesome. Settling in like drowning debris discreetly does, underneath the sparkling smoothness of aquiline water, it was arduously agonising, the course of a path severely designed to be deplorably trodden, unless encountered the milestone of maxim nitty-gritty. A long way down from where he was stood, presently, could feelings ever so possibly, suffocate the life stream? Strangle the innocent prey amidst a hazardous holocaust, making it seem like he was withering, writhing in its grasp?
"No, that cannot be. This is a dream, please tell me it is because..you will never do that, Dad." He reasoned, shaking his head ever so softly, undoubtedly resolved to deny what was the truth.
"Please, don't make this any harder on us, Emmett. I don't think we can handle this, whatever this is, right now." Claire gestured towards him frantically, before looking at her hands despondently.
"This? Or are you implying that you cannot handle me, Mum? Is that it, folks? Because if so, then shame on you for being such an awful lot, you really suck at parenting." Emmett furiously pointed out, too exasperated with their lame excuses.
"That is enough, get out before I lose my temper." His Dad authoritatively ordered, eyes blankly staring back at him, too void of any particular emotion than disgust and probable hatred.
Waves, his feelings were an oceanic enmesh, rising and falling in harmonising symphony, a melody that was mercilessly mild, woefully riled, and severely tied with the heartstrings morassed in the duplicity of the malaise that swept into the shore of his psyche, rendering him susceptible to the shortcomings of his ever so delightful life. Weak, was he so vulnerable as to implore for forgiveness? And if so, what was even the blunder that had to be recompensated for? Not his sexuality, not his identity, he was certain. He was as much at blame as was a prey, docile and pliant to the world's self-indulgences as to save itself from becoming a victim to their stinginess.
"I am as much of a member of this house as you, so no, I refuse to comply with your orders, Mum and Dad. I am your son, you are obliged to take care of me regardless of our differences, I am afraid."
Courage, a feeling that trounced his dishearteningly diverse emotions, particularly fixating on fighting for what was more genuinely and even so, morally his birthright. They were responsible for him, they always had been and it was time to reinstate and reestablish the terms accordingly or so Emmett thought as he showed an extravagant amount of compliance with time, offering them another chance, possibly for the umpteenth time, to correct themselves, but somewhere, he had expected this, like his Dad, with much displeasure and indifference, that Emmett himself wouldn't be able to muster, reciprocated his speech from before, only this time, he added vehemence in the admixture, serving it on a silver platter of senile in hospitability.
"I am afraid, brother, you really have no other choice than to comply with them."
"Tom, aren't you supposed to be attending a lecture?"
"Actually not, Mum! It is Saturday, I am supposed to be in my dorm room but I thought to surprise you. And boo bear, don't look so upset, if Mum and Dad expect you to do something, you don't refuse them."
Naivety, sometimes, was a misled mischance of the oblivious consolation of the mind, a relenting resource of unintentional fictitious truth, fanciful for the auditory nerves to interpret and commute, causing wreckage in heart's sentient solace, or so he thought as he observed his brother, Thomas. He was blissfully ignorant of the world, too self-occupied to self satisfy his life's reflective wants and Emmett couldn't impose on him to be attentive or in lucid words, caring for that was not who he supposedly identified to be.
"Tommy, you are unaware.."
"And this is where I would have to draw the line before I am at the receiving end of your infamous tantrums, baby brother. Au revoir!" He gave him a toothy grin, before ruffling his hair as he proceeded to walk towards his room, possibly to relax as Emmett followed him with his eyes, understanding his apprehension.
"Emmett, leave your brother out of your problematic issues, it is not his job to look after you." Claire chastised, sending him a scornful look when she was certain that Thomas had left.
"You are absolutely correct, Mum, it is not his job to look after me, it has always been yours, but you know what? I don't care. I don't care because I have given you one too many chances to make it up to me and unsurprisingly so, you have failed me and I am aware that this is least of your worries, that I am least of your bloody concerns but let this, let my sexuality be that haunting reminder to you for your apparent failures. Let it at least, diminish your dreams and peace, as your supposed 'orders' have and will, do to me. Have a great life."
"Emmett..." His Mum trailed off, looking at him with a sombre look as if she was frightened for him.
"It's alright, Mum. It'll be alright."
Hopeful, he assured himself that he would be fine on his own, he'd make it through, he always did. Self-reliance, he was only ever dependent on his conscience to direct him whether it was perspectively right or wrong, it was, after all, his decision to be. With one lingering look that inherently expressed his self-condemnation upon his words regarding anything that he had ever said, he certainly didn't try to invoke or imply whatsoever he thought his apparent anguish had him say out of spite. Emmett could never be vengeful for wrathful retaliation never did prove too useful to the damage that had been previously inflicted. Sure, the slang like words and accusatory misgivings might settle any qualms regardless, still, it wouldn't be self satisfactory, or so he thought as he proceeded to walk towards his room.
Confusion, he was in a morbid state of muted melancholy, silencing his future form of schematic sense with a mellow macabre of circumstantial misdirection. Emmett couldn't possibly comprehend as to what he could do with his belongings as he reached his room. For a neatly driven boy like him, it was not an unusual sight to see. As he exhaustively appreciated the serene state of his sanctuary, he couldn't help but feel disempowered, like someone had put a damper on his overall personality or was it just him? He wondered as he approached his desk, eyeing the colourfully doodled writing pads with some nostalgia for he remembered the exclusive collaboration he had with his brother, a distinct memory in distinctive chromism, reflecting the solitude of something that he would always treasure. He couldn't do this to him, Tommy didn't deserve to be put through this, whatever this was, according to his Mum.
He sighed before throwing them into his backpack along with some other things, essentially packing his clothes in another, for he wasn't sure if he'd ever return. Echo, like an endearing reflection of all that had been past, reverberated inside the walls capturing his memory house. It could only be an element in elaborating his mental tormentation, he deduced before putting a momentary halt on his raging thoughts so as to take his leave from the place that he once used to call his sanctuary.
It could be for the better or maybe, he'd lose his mind, or what was necessarily left of it at the moment, he thought before shutting the door of his room and slowly, walking out. It was not like he had expected them to personally do the honours of 'kicking him out'. Emmett loathed the idea of dramatisation, he really wished to leave without so much as a word from his parents and he was frightened by the idea of confronting Tommy, Lord was well aware of the threat his brother posed when he needed to prove a point.
Fragile footfalls forwarded into the direction of the door, halting slightly at the threshold that he never had thought would matter so functionally until now. He willed himself forcibly to grab the doorknob and twist it rightly so, without over-processing all that had or could have had happened if he had just kept this part of him hidden, self preserved per se, but what was done was done, he had to do what was asked of him, without regretting something that established his personality more so, his existence.
"Let it go!" His mind compelled his actions as he opened the door and finally, stepped out from a place that boarded him to a world that had always challenged him.
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Author's Note- Greetings to all! I hope everyone is having a good Sunday, today, and yes, this is officially the first chapter of The Fourth Wind, what do you think would happen in the next chapter? Do not forget to vote and leave comments, I'd be looking forward to reading them. Well, I'll see you in the next chapter, take care and stay safe. :)