Breathe

Hi! So, I know I have a terrible track record on finishing diaper-related stories, but I just thought of this one and I really hope I can finish it. Any input is welcome, as always! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: A gay couple, Henry and Hartley, have finally decided to take the next step and decide to adopt a kid of their own. After getting approval, they look for the right kid to take in. That’s when they meet Michael, a boy whose mother killed his father and he watched it. Feeling a strange empathy for the boy, they take him in. Slowly, they will learn what it means to be fathers as they discover that Michael is not just the average 13 year old.

Breathe

E.A Lyra

Prologue

Michael

It’s always the same.

Sometimes I wonder why my life is so screwed up. I mean, did I do something wrong in my past live to deserve this? Why is my mom paying for it, too, if I am to blame? I always feel like it’s my fault. Maybe if I hadn’t been born, my father wouldn’t be so mean. Maybe if I didn’t get into their lives, they would be happier. Sometimes I wonder if the world would be better if I wasn’t in it. I don’t want to breathe anymore. Is that too fucked up?

“Michael,” says my mom as she walks to me. I’m looking at the TV screen with a lost gaze, not really paying much mind to it. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

I sigh. I look at her. “You already know the answer to that, mom.”

My mom sits next to me and wraps her arms around me. “I know it’s hard, honey. I promise you, we’ll get through this. I’ll find a way to save us.”

“Mom,” I say, with my lips quivering with emotion. “I… I’m afraid. What if he snaps and he kills you? Or me?”

“I won’t let that happen, my love,” says mom as she rubs my hair. “I’ll save us.”

My mom keeps saying that she’ll save us. My eleven year old mind has trouble processing that. How can my mom save us from the abuse? How can she stand against that monster who calls himself my father? I know I should have hope, but this is very hard. How can you have hope in the future when you’ve been tossed around like trash? I really don’t care what happens to me, but I don’t want my mom to keep hurting.

So I just pray, that some angel will come save us.

I was so wrong.


I was coming home from school.

I didn’t have any friends, because they all thought I was weird. Maybe I was. I was quiet and mellow and unlovable. Nobody liked me because they all thought that I was a walking massacre. I really didn’t care much for friendship, it was a treasure not meant for me. But part of me desired it. I wanted to be loved, but I didn’t know how to get that. I always thought that maybe one day someone will take pity on me join me for lunch. Fat chance, but I still harbored some desire to be loved.

As I sat in the bus, waiting to get home, I wondered what I could do to escape that. I didn’t want to go home, to witness my father’s wrath. I really didn’t. I still have bruises left for the last beating I got. I can’t tell anyone, not a teacher or a grown up. My father would kill me, or my mom. I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want to be the reason she loses her life. She’s the best mom in the world, and I don’t want to put her through more pain.

I walk down the bus by the corner of my house and drag my feet towards my house. I feel so sad all the time, it’s not unusual for me.

However, when I reach my home, I see a lot of police cars and an ambulance outside my house. I feel the hairs of my neck rise in fear. What the hell happened?

I start rushing towards my house, my heart pounding loudly. All I can think about is my mom. I have to get there, I have to save her!

My legs reach the house, and the police officers spot me. “Hey, kid, stop!”

They try to grab me, but I manage to squeeze in through. All I know is that I have to see my mom, I need to make sure that she’s alright.

The moment I escape from the clutches of the officers, I find myself inside the house. And I see my mom, and my father. He’s in the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. A hole on his head. His eyes wide open, yet, lifeless. I feel terror running through me. My father is dead. He’s gone!

My eyes are fixed on his body, and all I can see is death. I feel my chest start to constrict, it’s hard to breathe. Is this a dream or a nightmare?

I turn to my mom, they’re handcuffing her. That’s when I realize they’re going to take her from me. No, I can’t let them do that! I rush to my mom and hug her tight.

“I’m sorry, baby,” says my mom with tears in her eyes as she hugs me. “I’m so sorry it had to come to this. Please, forgive me.”

The detective or whatever pulls me from my mom, but I don’t want to let her go. She’s crying, and now, I’m crying too.

“No, please! Mom!” I cry, trying to break free. I want to be with her, I don’t care if it’s in prison. I would rot there any day, just don’t split us up.

But it happens, my mom is taken away by the police and Social Services take me away. I know now I may never get to see her again. And it breaks my heart.

I now go away to a new future, one that I’m not eager to face.