Matthew

That night when I reached my room, I cried.

I cried for the first time since I was 14, I cried until there were no tears left.

That night I was mourning, mourning the loss, the waste of 16 years. Mourning the loss of my biggest secret. The one in which plagued me in the night time, in the silent array of mystery and doubt it came to mind. So I distracted my mind with the company of several girls I felt nothing for.

The secret in which I was still hellbent on changing, my sexuality. At that time I still didn't dare let myself have the thought of me being free in myself, so as to not be looked be a sinner.

The next day I didn't go to school, I couldn't face them.

Rather I just wished and prayed it would just go away, that when I woke up from my slumber on my tear ridden pillow it would've vanished.

It didn't.

"Fuck," I gasped into the frigid draft surrounding me "why me ?" By now more droplets cascaded down the redness that was now my face, hitting the ruffled bedsheets and the scattered pillows that I had thrown in a blind fit of rage.

After calming the rush of emotions circling the vacant heart and soul of a boy in dread, I made a game plan of sorts.

Pretend it never happened.

It'll be as easy as such, forget it ever happened and move on with life. So I collected myself and the disarray of thoughts surrounding me. Then I readied the shattering mask I would have to wear for the next day, and the ones after that. Praying to god that the crack in it would go unnoticed.

" Are you okay ?" Her eyes coated with a layer of concern she rarely wore. A concern in which was similar to the one she gave me after my grandfather, my dad's dad, passed barely a year prior.

I shook my head with vigour, the smile in which I had practiced in the mirror appearing in full force. So as to hide the fear and pain lingering deep down in the whole I had dug.

" Are you sure, you look tense," she started her eyes clearly not convinced " you know you can tell me anything." My smile impossibly bright, almost to the point where it was visibly fake, almost one of sarcasm.

I knew that she was being sincere in her words but I couldn't tell her, I couldn't tell soul.

" Okay then," the skepticism seething from her mouth. With that last look she gave me before turning to face the teacher, I could tell she wouldn't leave it as that. Rather she would store it in a compartment until she felt it necessary to bring it up for whatever reason.

* RING *

The bell went eventually, therefore meaning I would be reunited with him. My stomach began to twist and turn, letting me understand that I couldn't do this. Not yet at least.

"I'll catch up with you later, can I just go to the bathroom," her eyes burnt holes into my back, but I dare not turn to see none other than the devil himself appear with the same black sweater in which I caught a glimpse of as he stepped off the bus.

I spent as much time as I could with my heavy head held in my shaking hands. Doing the breathing exercises I was taught in the 2nd grade, repeating the phrase

"In and out" with soft whimper-like breaths.

Soon enough lunch was over and I was met with his questioning gaze as I left the stall. One in which the arch of his brow lifted slightly, just enough to tell me he was unsure about something, that enquires circled him. However not enough to tell me whether I was the one causing his mind to swirl, to twist into itself that the mask in which each and everyone of us wore had dented.

His eyes pleaded to someone, something : whether it be God or rather just the moron of a boy who stood less than a metre in front of him , I didn't know.

Before I had the chance to look farther, to find an answer or rather the story of a boy in turmoil. He had turned his gaze to the ground.

"Hi Matt," his lack of esteem and the fear biting back his tongue.

"Hi"

His eyes didn't meet mine as he squeezed past me into the last vacant stall. So I was left there by my lonesome feeling the slight tug at my heartstrings.

The next day came around, then the next, then I was being viciously awoken by my mother shouting how I "better get ready for church soon or no phone for the week."

As I was no more than a phone addicted teen, it was enough to have me sprinting out my bed into the bathroom.

When we got there I was greeted by Alex the leader of the youth program. He shook my hand with his bright smile glistening in the early morning sun, talking about a conference or something of that sort.

I mentally phased it out, unable to see past the boy who's rose tinted lip where stuck between his teeth. His eyes holding a mischievous glint.

"So do you want to go," Alex was by now looking at me hopefully. His bald head standing an inch or two beneath me.

" Yeah sure" as you can probably guess I had no idea what I was agreeing to. So I picked an answer in which would please him, no questions asked.

His smile once more animated, however not sarcastic, stared at me with deafening silence. Soon a hard pat hit my shoulder, leaving me slightly confused, as a brief

"See you later," was said before I was left with the smile of someone else. Someone in which I had half-assed ignored for a week.

James

His curly blonde hair once more illuminated by the feeble light released into the sizeable church.

As we both did since we were mere toddlers, leaning and grasping at our mothers whilst acting with a childish innocence and senility. So it was unsurprising when I saw him in the same position, his arm intertwined with one of the only females he had a deep affection for. He seemed to be smiling at a joke or a sarcastic comment made by the borderline- irritated face of Faith.

His lips baring a darker tint as he had previously clenched them tightly between his almost white teeth, as per usual. His dirty blonde eyelashes fluttered their long length, the length in which Faye on several occasions dared to chop off in vain jealousy.

"Matthew do you wanna go now ?" came from the rough lips of my father. He bore a subtle smile as he did on the day in which he could flex his years of practice and dedication to learning the keyboard and singing, upon the church stage.

I nodded realising I ought to be more careful with my emotions.

I needed to remember to store them deep inside me, as I had done for eons. However he was making it oh so hard for me.