Date: Fri, 19 Mar 2021 10:58:50 +0000 From: D.K. Daniels Subject: Folder X - Chapter 3 Note from the author: There are delicate themes in this short. If you are prone to sensitive matters concerning bullying, suicide, and peer pressure, here is your warning. If you dislike content like this, the story may upset you. I wish to put it out there for everyone to see. Bulling or suicide is no joke. If you feel depressed, know you are loved, and there is always someone willing to talk. Contact a local call center in your area if you are having these emotions. Talk to a person you trust, or even google support groups. Hell, hit me up. Having a camaraderie to get through the difficult times is a big help. Its normal, many people have felt this way, and you are not alone. People will hear you out, I promise. - DK. *** Proceeds from this short will be donated to The Trevor Project (USA) & BelongTo (EIRE). You can grab a copy of the novelette from Amazon or Google. Additionally, if you sign up to my mailing list, you get the free full story in PDF form ahead of everyone else. Updates will be every Friday. Find all the information below via my linktree, to Folder X, and more of my stories. https://linktr.ee/dkdaniels *** For you: the lonely, misguided, scared-shitless teenager. X *** Folder X Chapter 3 "Mom... you home?" I called out as I shut the front door. The house was quiet, so I concluded that mom was still on her way home from work. I dropped my backpack on the kitchen table, fished a green apple from the wooden bowl by the microwave in the kitchen, and bit into it. 'The juice was incredibly satisfying.' Pulling out my chair at the table, I figured I would make a start on my homework. So with one hand holding the apple, I drew the seat back with the other and sat down. Unzipping my bag, I pulled out the materials I needed and tried to work on some assignments. Getting a few math problems complete, my attention began to dwindle. Then I thought about how Jonah just stood around back at the school and let Dallas just run at me, and to top it off, he never said anything afterward. Sometimes I truly feel like I am alone... actually, I am always alone. And I hate that, but what can I do? I was scared of people finding out my secret too, you know because it would give them something else to tease me about. I could add to the list of what I have been called since the start of school. Gay Fat Carrottop Freak Faggot Piggy Fugly Worthless Loser Perv Stupid Trash Retard Pathetic Weak Smelly Disgusting Useless Nerd Bigfoot Reject Oh, and Ron Weasley. Combine that with Gingers have no souls, and Rat Face, and the occasional GO DIE, then I'm fucking golden. All the stuff they say, it makes me mad, but it also makes me sad. Sensing a tear on the way, I push out from the table and start packing away my half-finished homework. Though I stop midway through and just head to the TV, switch on Disney+ and put on The Simpsons. Sometimes, watching TV helps put me inside a little bubble, and it distracts me from all the shit I have to really deal with, not that I want to. When adults get involved, it's even more embarrassing, and they sometimes make things worse. One time, I brought a knife to school, thinking I'd have the courage to stab Dallas in the back when he was in the toilet or something, but I never did it again. 'It felt wrong.' It happened after he threw a water bottle at me, and it broke my nose. The teachers didn't seem to care; they gave him a warning, sure, but after his 2-day suspension, his reign of nuisance became terror. It didn't stop him; he just controlled himself better, acted out when he knew he wasn't being watched. I can't recall where I went wrong or what I did to piss him off. I don't think I did anything, but then again, maybe I'm just too much of a freak, and that's why he needs to do it. I'm kind of sick of all the fighting, so now when I just let him tease me and throw me around. It's easier. If I try sticking up for myself, it gets worse. Plus, mom gave me the option of changing schools, but I didn't want to say goodbye to Jonah. Why was I the one who was expected to leave? Feeling my mood dwindle further, I pressed the standby button and climbed to my feet. It's no use; The Simpsons didn't make me feel good inside anymore. You know, I'm not sure if I have feelings anymore, all I do is cry most of the time, and after a while, I run dry. Heading upstairs, I lay down on my bed like I do almost every day. I grab hold of my thickest pillow and nestle up against it. I imagine it is Jonah, though my prince is sleeping, or that's how I visualize it. I love lying beside him. If I believe strongly enough, it almost comes true. I can picture his mousy brown hair, the smell of it, his strong citrus cologne, and the soft gradual breathing. I wish all the time that it would be real, even once, but if anybody out there can hear me, it never works out. I lay hugging my imaginary boyfriend close to my body, and after a while, my body heat started to feel like his body heat. It makes me want him more, so I crawl off the bed before I start to cry. I can never explain it. I think I love him, but at the same time, he doesn't do anything to help me. So why should I love him? Confused, I sit down at the computer. I browse a few YouTube videos to kill time until bedtime. It always feels like my day repeats itself, and sleep is a good escape where you get to feel nothing. I often feel sorry for mom, knowing that she knows her son is a failure. I've considered telling her, but I'm more embarrassed about being gay than I am of actually telling her. So, I wonder if I'd ever tell her, right now, I don't want to take any more punches to the gut if something should go wrong. I click into the folder labeled Folder X; it's full of Jonah's dance videos; they always miraculously cheer me up. Double tapping on the third video in the grid formation, it opens to him doing the SHOOT dance from Fortnight. It's older, of course, about two years, but that's how far back my files go with Jonah. I watched his arms sway backward, and his right leg does some equivalent to a donkey kick, and then his right arm mimics the process of putting a nail in the wall with a hammer. It makes me smile unknowingly, and it makes me feel warm. Something that The Simpsons couldn't do but used to be able to do. Time passes, the world outside my window turns to black, and mom gets in with a takeaway, apologizing for her lateness. We eat and talk, and it goes to show how much she cares about our conversations. She asks if I wanted to watch a movie with her, and I agree. So, we snuggle up on the sofa and watch Star Wars. We had just completed The Mandalorian, and rewatching all the Star Wars crap became a thing. After the movie, I headed to bed, crawled under the covers, and jerked off like usual to Jonah until I dozed off to sleep. TO BE CONTINUED... *** Thanks for the read :) I'd love to hear feedback, I try to reply to all folks. So, let me know what you think. As I said, you can grab a copy to help out with the donation fund, and you can also get a free copy of the story when you sign up to my mailing list. Links below. Later, stay safe, Awesomepossum. https://linktr.ee/dkdaniels