TW: F slur/homophobia/abuse
The Second Push
~~~
The entire house was still.
And my breathing stopped as well.
The feeling in my fingers started to go numb due to how tightly I was gripping my phone.
"Who's tha—"
"Someone from school!" I said it before she could even finished her sentence. "W-We're working on a project together."
I've used that same excuse for many years—and it never worked, so I don't know what made me so confident today.
The chair I was sitting on seemed to press against me.
Or no, I was being pressed into the chair.
I winced in pain, suddenly remembering the burns on my elbows and shoulders from the impact of slamming into the road earlier.
When I realized she was leaning over me to examine the phone, I quickly raised it to my face, trembling.
"I-I'll just decline real quick.."
I saw Tsukki's icon flashing on the screen for a split-second before the phone was snatched out of my clutch.
My entire body flinched and I gasped, quickly reaching over my shoulder, ignoring the sting of pain that shot through my back.
Although, she was already out of my grasp.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't feel my legs.
"Hello, this is Tadashi's mother. Who am I speaking to?"
My eyes closed tightly as Tsukki's faint voice echoed through the phone.
I couldn't make out what he was saying.
But I missed him so much.
"Are you the boy he's always sneaking out with?"
The pit of my stomach began to churn heavily. This can't be happening.
I heard shouting from the other side of the phone, and wrapped my arms tightly around my waist.
Then my mom let out a spiteful laugh.
"You won't be going near my son again, faggot."
My body arched forward, shuddering uncontrollably.
That word.
That word.
For the past 3 years, I'd suppressed the memories tied to that word—and it worked for the most part.
But now it's all flooding back in.
I was 13.
And my body was discovering new exciting things.
Like how the tall blonde made my heart flutter every time he looked in my direction.
Or how I'd daydream of him in class.
And sometimes they'd get.. weird.
I knew I had to keep him safe—away from my mom's resentful grasp.
I loved my mom.
But Tsukki didn't hurt me like she did.
So I loved him even more.
I didn't know what the word meant exactly, but she threw it around so casually.
People at school said it a lot too.
I knew it couldn't have good intentions, as it was always spoken hatefully.
At the time, I had a bully that always called me that word. He wasn't.. physical like I was used to.
All he did was make fun of the way I walked.
And talked.
And held myself.
I started to feel self-conscious about how I simply existed.
Tsukki noticed my depression back then and would always ask about it in private.
But I was too ashamed to tell him I let another bully take advantage of me.
I wanted him to think I was strong, and that all his pep-talks were working—
But they weren't.
Then one day Tsukki had a doctors appointment.
I was walking home alone that rainy afternoon.
Usually people didn't bother me, but I soon realized it was because I always had Tsukki.
Suddenly I was surrounded by a group of kids, immediately noticing the boy who'd recently been picking on me.
Although, I didn't recognize the others.
They beat me up, saying that awful name.
Spitting on me
And reminding me of how disgusting I was.
When I got home, my mom instantly noticed something was wrong—mentally and physically.
I told her about the bullies and sobbed into her arms. Everything was tame in that moment.
And then I mentioned the word they called me.
She started asking questions.
"Why would they call you that?"
"What are you doing for them to say that?"
All of a sudden, I was the problem.
It was my fault I had a bloody nose and fresh bruises.
She, in return, had to teach me a lesson.
So I wouldn't be called a fag anymore.
In the same day I'd been beaten up,
I was ravished by my own mother.
"Tadashi, are you listening?"
I jolted my back up from its arching position against the table. Taking in a sharp breath as I felt hot tears run down my face.
I had to get out of this house.
"You know, I'm not fucking stupid." Her sharp words startled me—my eyes shut so tight, it started to sting. "Do you really think I wouldn't notice the extra pair of shoes beside the front door?" She gripped my face, her sharp nails digging into my jaw. "Or the bloody shirt in your room?" I started to sob uncontrollably. "Or the joints in your fucking trash?"
"I-I'm sorry.. mom.." I choked out between hiccups.
It felt as if I was moving backwards.
Shrinking into my childhood mindset again.
Hell, I'm still a kid—I was only 16 after all.
"Don't cry, baby." Her nails roughly slid off my face, leaving an indent in my jaw and cheeks. "Why are you crying again?"
I'm losing my mind.
The cold wind outside felt so far from this frightening house. My body was starting to go numb with every breath.
Why did I decide to come here?
Why did I think she'd be different?
I felt her lips press against my cheek and immediately jerked to the side, whimpering. She abruptly grabbed my arm and I felt my entire body paralyze.
"Please..l-leave me alone. Please don't.." her grip on my arm tightened as my shoulders began to shudder uncontrollably.
"What are you talking about?" I felt her body lean closer against me on the chair. "I would never hurt you Yama baby—"
"N-no..! You did—"
"Remember, you imagined—"
"It happened 3 years ago!" I attempted to nudge my arm out of her suffocating hold, but I couldn't even move my fingers—let alone my entire body. "I-I wasn't a hopeless child then."
She fell silent.
And I could here the ac going at full blast in the house—I bet it's warmer outside.
Slowly, my arm was being pulled inward. Towards her.
I started panicking.
"Please don't touch me..!" My breathing—wasn't really breathing; I was gasping for air. I've been doing that a lot today.
I've never defied my mom like this and to be honest, I was scared to death.
"That disgusting fag has brainwashed you."
Before I could even process her words, something metal.. or maybe glass, shattered on the floor. I felt a few pieces skid against my shoes.
Then I realized she still had my phone
—or she did.
Now it was all over the kitchen floor, unusable.
Suddenly her other arm reached for my shoulder roughly. I arched forward in pain, clenching my teeth to suppress any shouting.
She pressed her nails into one of the road burns I had.
My neck was pierced into as well and she lifted me off the chair violently. I immediately clutched around my skull as a way to protect myself and she dragged me up the stairs.
I started sobbing heavily and pleading for her to stop. My legs kept going numb—forcing me to stumble against the stairs.
But she wasn't listening.
No one ever listens.
I was eventually thrown Into my room, slamming head first onto the hardwood floor.
Everything in my body ached—I couldn't even move my fingers without feeling immense pain. Something hot and sticky spread on my forehead.
"No son of mine is getting away with disrespect. You're not leaving this room until you've thought long and hard about how to appreciate your mother."
Then the door slammed shut.
~~~
A/N
😋kill😋yams😋mom😋2020😋