Chapter Five

KYLE'S P.O.V

"What did you just say?" her voice was barely above a whisper. Surprise was itched on her face, her eyes elsewhere, as if she couldn't comprehend. Her whole stance appeared to be stoned.

"Mum?" nerves waved through my body as I anticipated her next move. Her reaction wasn't at all what I had expected. I thought she'd at least yell, and for a second I wished she would. Anything but silence. My voice seemed to pull her back to the now, as her eyes snapped towards me with a look filled with confusion and betrayal.

"How could you, Kyle? How could you request the one thing I dedicated my whole youth for?" the low, shallow, volume of her voice hurts me more, and I wish she'd yell at me instead. I hate the evident disappointment that laced her voice. But, she's right.

She got me at twenty-two. Freshly out of university. And ever since then all she did was ensure my safety and wellbeing. She sacrificed her dreams for me. Settling for whatever job she could hold on to as the source of our income. Let go of her family, her friends -cutting them off - because she couldn't trust them. Forgot all about love-she fought herself against it, because of me. And here I am suggesting what could potentially get me killed.

"Mummy, just hear me out-"

"Hear out what? Kyle? What could going to school means except for your doom?!" stress got to her, and her voice arose.

I tried not to flinch at the sudden change at the sudden loudness against my sensitive ears and kept myself composed. I didn't want to accidentally raise my voice as well and turn this into a yelling match. This is yet to be over.

"Everything mum! Just let me explain why this would fix all our problems!"

She deflated, still a bit on the fence about it, but, she agreed to listen nonetheless. "Alright. Let's clean this mess up and talk in the living room."

It almost sounded like a question but I nodded anyway, and begun collecting the cutlery and the plates, mum moved towards the sink to wash and load them away in the dishwasher. We worked in silence; ma probably thinking about what's gotten into me, and me trying to come up with new ways this conversation could go, and answers for questions that are quite predictable for mum to have, absentmindedly wiping down the counter we had eaten on.

Once we were done, I suggested making tea, to buy myself more time, and sent ma to the living room. I quickly put the kettle on, and got her favorite mug, a classic white with pink rims. And another for me then added honey and peach tea extract into both. Adding a bit more sweetener into mine. I let off my anxiety in the forms of breaths, as I took the mugs and myself to the living room, to have a conversation that might just change my life.

"I'm not mad, Kyle. I'm just confused and concerned." Mum disclosed after we sat in silence for the past few minutes. That's good, it was something I was glad to hear. I don't want to make her mad. And once I explain she won't be any more confused. And hopefully, her concerns would disappear too.

"Yes mum, I know. I... uh I can't stay hidden forever... I understand what you did for me, I really do and I appreciate it. You're the best mother I could have. But," I raised my hand slightly when she wanted to interject. "But, me being kept as a secret is affecting you as well. It always had. But only now am I in a position where I can fix it. If I were to attend school; I could have the friends and interactions I always selfishly dreamt of. I can learn to take better care of myself and you as well. If I was finally out; you wouldn't have to reject Sam. I know you love him mum, more than you let on. And I really don't want to see you hurt. Ever since he came along you've been smiling more and you seem happier and I really, really don't want to deprive you of that..."

I had more to say. I wanted to tell her everything that kept awake at night. I just want this guilt shaken off. But I wanted to hear what she has to say first. Although I could already tell.

"Oh, my boy... you know I only need-"

"No, mum. You can't say that anymore. That might have worked on me as a child but not anymore. You keep throwing your happiness away because of me and I cannot take it! I'm almost eighteen. It's about time I take responsibility and give back everything you gave away for me. Please, mum, understand that I need this too."

It was once comforting-and convincing- to hear her say that she needn't anyone but me. It eased my mind at night and allowed my insecurities to rest for a while before they rose again. But as I grew up, as I fell in love, I knew I'm not enough. For mom, yes she's the most important person in my limited life span, but a mother is far different from a lover. Just like a son is different from a husband. She'd always remain the most precious person to me. But I can't allow her to continue this route to despair.

It wasn't the plan to go down the emotional road, but as my eyes watered, I realized just how much it all actually meant, and how heavy it was all setting in my chest. My mother pulled me in and I shoved my face against the crock of her neck. What I said still stands, I want her happy and if going to school and potentially getting exposed then killed, will in some wicked way guarantee that, then so be it. It'd be meant to be and ma will learn to forget me and live her life as she always deeply wanted. With Sam, perhaps.

I stayed tucked in, in my mother's arms for a while, my wings wrapped around us both. She complained about me suffocating her in a low mumble that I was able to hear and I let her go, with a throaty sound that was between a chuckle and a sniffle. I pushed the sleeve of my hoodie to cover the palm on my hand and used that as a makeshift handkerchief to wipe down her tears, she did the same to me. Situations like this always end up with the same outcome. I wonder why I even bother to fret over it.

We started talking not too long after. Catching up on anything that came to mind. Then we decided to make lunch,

"How about chicken steaks?" I perked up at the suggestion, having already put down a few meal ideas, but not this, it is my favorite! "With fries?" I asked pointing shotguns at my mother, in a playful manner.

"Sure! You get the chicken breasts from the freezer and defrost them, I'll get the fries and air fryer ready!"

Having assigned tasks to each other, we got to work. As she commanded, I got the chicken breasts from the freezer and popped them into the microwave for auto defrost. In the meanwhile, I got everything out for the spicing; Paprika, vinegar, lemon, powdered garlic, salt, and pepper, of course. Ma started humming to a symphony we like as I was washing the, now, melted chicken; soaking it in water, vinegar and lemon, then setting up my 'grilling' station.

"The fries are in!" mum chimed in, in a sing-song voice, once she had the potatoes cut, soaked and ready in the air fryer.

"Alright, can you prepare our plates, please? I need to watch the chicken." I gave her a smile when she peeked over my shoulder on the two chicken stakes currently sizzling away in the pan. I saw her nod from the corner of my eye, as she got out two plates and positioned fresh lettuce on top of each to go under the steak.

"Don't forget the salad!" I reminded her, though I don't think she forgot. She always stresses about eating salad every day. She makes it ahead of time so that I can have no excuse for not getting any greenery in my daily meal system.

We decided to go against house rules and eat in the living room, we'd pushed the coffee table closer to the TV stand and placed our food on top. I passed one of the pillows to mum and tossed mine on the floor where I'd sit, then grabbed the remote to choose a movie.

I kept scrolling through Netflix, to find something that doesn't sound utterly boring, while mum brought our drinks -lemoned water- over from the kitchen. It's funny how she fusses over healthy habits when it comes to my meals, but completely allows me copious amounts of pizza during the week when she's at work and can't cook and I'm too lazy to cook. I mean I'd cook, but without mum's presence there I'd feel like every motion I make is a potential fire-setting move. That's too much anxiety for me to handle.

I finally decided on another episode from a show we both like- not that we actually care enough to keep up with it- I can tell it'll be more of a noise-filler and a background for an extended session of catching up with my mum. Just the shine in her eyes told me that I'm in for an expanded rant about Sam.

In which I look forward to.

After we had finished lunch, show long forgotten, and all topics of conversing and trading silly gossip-on her part- covered, she told me that she's going to go out for a while after she freshens up, to clear her head, and think about my proposition. I was happy she was even considering it. And a walk for her meant a flight for me.

After she left, I made sure the door and all the windows were locked and blinded. Then I reared back to the living room to tidy up. I was truly just buying myself time, as much as I was excited to go see Andrew, to probably function for the rest of the day, I was a bit scared. The last few encounters were out of order and unusual. I don't know what to expect to happen. So to stall a bit I resumed to returning the coffee table in the living room to its normal spot and wiping it away. I also picked up the pillows and shaken off the crumbs. Then went ahead to clean the mess we made while preparing lunch and loaded the dishes. I even contemplated vacuuming, then decided against it. It'd be too loud and someone probably saw my mother leave.

Then again her car is not outside, and mum finds it too much of a hassle to put the car in the garage every time. Also, a waste of space as she puts it. And most of the neighborhood caught on onto that in the years we've lived here, so random vacuum noises when she's not home is defiantly a 'red flag'. Since -remember- I don't exist.

So finally, since I can't stall anymore, I went to my bedroom, and changed into a set of black clothes then locked my door from the outside. Incase mum came back before I do then she'd think I went to bed early. I usually use the backdoor to leave, since it's a direct entry to the woods, once I pass the backyard's fence. I keep my set of keys; one of my bedroom, the backdoor- and the front door, just in case- behind, inside one of the wooden-popsicles make modeled birdhouses, to not risk getting caught for the clanking of keys.

The birdhouses were ones I made with mum, when I was a lot younger, she'd tell me stories about birds since they were the closest thing in similarity to me- angels too, but she avoided that resemblance sometimes for some reason. I remember crying once to my mother- that it's not fair for me to have a house and they don't, so we started making houses for them. Ah, I was such a baby. I shook my head fondly at the random memory and continued my way down to the back door.

After I made sure it was locked and I was all set. I flew my way towards one of the trees to put my keys there, then positioned myself on my favorite tree. It had a clear view of Andrew's house and the whole neighborhood from its peak, but it was shadowed and thick enough for my 'camouflage' to work. He'd be arriving back from school at any minute, and I was already flooding with anticipation that when I felt electrifying tingles, I wasn't remotely surprised.

I was filled with impish glee when Mathew's- Andrew's best friend who drives him to and from school- car came driving by, in that split second I was able to see Andrew in the passenger seat, and I also caught sight of a... girl? In the backseat? I've never seen her face before. Maybe she was Mathew's sister? Not that I knew of one...

Once the car stopped in front of his house, I hopped off the tree, making sure not to ruffle any leaves to not attract any unwanted attention. Although I was cladded in black, I forgot to bring something to hide my wings. Not that I will willingly allow anyone to see me, but just in case. I ran back to my house, as sneakily as possible, hiding behind a conveniently thick tree trunk. It was located to the side of my house, in a direct position to his house. My eyebrows slopped closer when I saw the girl getting off the car after Andrew did. So she isn't matt's sister after all...

But Mathew got off too, so maybe they're gonna hang out? My theory was soon proven wrong when he got back into the car after saying his goodbyes to Andrew in their weird, bro-ey hand hug or whatever that was. But the worst of it, he left the girl behind! Why? I felt something burn inside me at the sight of her clinging to Andrew's bicep. My Andrew... a bitter taste filled my mouth when he led her towards his house.

Who is she?

I ended up returning home, I sat stiffly on the couch. Trying to figure out who the girl could be. The heavy felling in the bottom of my chest is still there, it hurts in ways I couldn't explain. The idea of him and her alone together in his house... his parents weren't home, I know this; because they obviously have work and their cars aren't there. Also, I sort of make it my business to know. It's highly creepy and I'm disgusted with myself. All of that will be sorted out once mum agrees. It's a hypothesis, though, since I'm not sure if my tendencies will be controllable after so long.

I couldn't take it anymore, and I made the rash decision of figuring out what they are doing. I was about to go out of the house again, when I remembered my need for a jacket. I hastily ran up the stairs and into my room. Something caught my attention when I was digging through my closet for a big enough jacket, I threw whatever item was in my hand and practically flew towards my window.

The sun was still bright, shining in full blast and it was hard to see, even with my sharpened sight. I rushed back down the stairs and out the house, jacket forgotten and blood pumping faster than ever. I ran down the street, overlooking the consequences of my acts for a quick second. A detour through the woods to reach his side of the forest's branching trees will take too long and I was at that moment too impatient.

I climbed up the tree closest to his window, is such a hurry I ended up with a few scratches. Once I was on the top and directly in front of my destination, I saw what I didn't want to acknowledge, my eyes weren't deceiving me. Nor was the light affecting my sight. It's true. And my heart deflated at the recognition of the situation's trueness.

Andrew had, indeed, closed the curtains.

I walked aimlessly through the woods routing back home. I'm so confused and the heaviness in my heart only tripled. I just don't understand. Andrew never closes his curtains, and I mean never. He simply doesn't. So why now? It was different from his consistent routine that it was slightly uncomfortable to me. I was so used to his routine life and I didn't like not knowing.

I've stayed atop the tree for a while, but it's like they vanished. Even my sensitive ears couldn't pick up on their voices. I've lost hope after that and here we are. The sun still out but I was well-in in the depth of the forest for anyone to see me, or be here to begin with.

I've reached the back of my house and I got in, since in my hurry I left the backdoor unlocked. It was eerie silent so I gathered mum was still out. I went up to my bedroom with that knowledge and pulled the slim armchair towards my window and sat down. Waiting for Andrew.

And so for two hours, that's what I did. I sat down, eyes glued to his front yard. Quite creepy. But we've already established that, and the fact I have quite the obsession. I got up from my chair when I saw the front door open, but lost my enthusiasm when he and the girl got out together, her still clinging to him like a sloth. Okay, she might not be that ugly but I'm bitter. I will say what I want.

They were heading towards the woods, I quickly threw on a jacket and decided to follow. He must of going to walk her home then go to the kitties. It's my turn now. I looked at the clock, it was six in the evening. He's supposed to go now... I felt my blood boil. He was so casually breaking the normality of his day and for her?

******

Wind blew past me as long leaves and branches slapped my face and scratched my arms but I didn't care. The whole world turned into a blur, and all sounds around me mingled together. The taste of saltiness, and the scent of humidity, everything was gone. My body trembled as I willed myself to run farther, faster. As much as I tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from my throat in the form of a silent scream as I slammed into my bedroom, I don't care who heard. I just broke down.

My eyes dripped with tears, my walls; the walls that kept me up, held me strong, just... collapsed. Brick by brick. The sobs were loud ripping through my muscles, bones, and guts so harshly. I pressed my forehead against the bed sheets and began to allow my heart to break into a disarray of pieces.

I couldn't get the image of them out of my head. He and Helen, his girlfriend, he looked so happy with her, he seemed to actually like her. And I couldn't justify my madness because I was never a part of his life. Our usual place was ours no longer. Granted it was never mine, but it was always just him. Until he decided to add her.

I've left them twenty minutes in, when I could no longer take the heartache. It hurts so bad, like falling into a bed of pins; each one of them puncturing my heart all at once, yet at the same time it's like my heart had a grasp around it, and every second it tightened. And what hurts more is the fact that I have no right to cry. He doesn't know me. And as much as I liked to pretend it, I don't know him either.

"Honey, I'm back!"

Oh, she finally was. I quietened myself down, my sobs turning to sniffles and occasional hiccups. It didn't work for long and I felt another wave of pain radiate through me.

"Kyle, are you in here?"

My mother's voice came closer, and her steps louder until she was by my door, opening it. Her presence filled the room. Her scent wrapping around me like a soft fleece blanket. I had a good mind of burying myself in my sheets and pretend to sleep. But I was too broken to put up a front.

I raised my face from the sheets I was tangled up in, my face most likely red and puffed out, my chest shook as a sob I fought to hold in, punched its way through. It was useless and I was crying again. I can see a blurred image of my mother's beautiful face, enveloped in confused concern. Or maybe it was fear of my amok state as I stretched my arms towards her, in neediness.

Soon enough the bed sank as she hauled me in her embrace. I pushed my face to her neck. My upper body and shoulders quivered with every sob that forced its way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as I gasped for breaths. I squeezed my eyes shut, balling my hands into fists, crushing my mother's satin blouse.

"Please, mummy. Please..." I tried to get out, but I'm not too entirely sure she heard me, with me sobbing too loudly, it sounded muted.

"Baby boy, you have to tell me what's wrong, what can I do to help you?" she rocked us back and forth and started to hum the lullaby I knew too well. She continued to whisper soothing words that did nothing to calm my soul's need to break loose, desperate to release the primal rage on the world.

Angry at myself for being what I am. Angry at the world for being so horrible to differences. At the society for not being accepting all the same. Angry at my pathetic self, falling in love with someone I cannot have. And most of all, angry that I was so naïve, I allowed myself to get hurt by someone without them even trying.

My anger was a five-course meal of bitterness as the steam only built up. Though it's pitiful, how my anger never seemed to make me snap. Never turned me to the monstrous creature I'm outed to be. Never had me so livid to the point of breaking. Never got me so vexed and seething, to where blood wasn't pumping in, and instead is stuck in my veins waiting to explode. Only made me cry for days on end.

"I want to go to school tomorrow mummy. I just want to be happy..." I wanted to say more but I held myself back, I was beyond all reason. I don't care if I'll get killed. I just want the pain to stop. And to do that I have to confess to him. And get the inevitable rejection done and over with. There's no way he'll take me the way I want to take him. he's straight, and in a relationship.

But at least then, I won't be so miserably wanting something I can't have. I'll get the slap of reality to my face, and I'd deserve it. Leastways I'll have what I desperately need now; the right to cry and depress.