Thinking About You

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I'M STRUGGLING TO FIGURE OUT WHO I AM, CHAINED BY THIS FEAR INSIDE
and i'm being drawn to you.
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“Brendon,” His mother called to him almost immediately as she also exited the
bookstore. Her voice was strong and insistent as she called to him once more:
“Brendon Matthews, you will stop this instant.”



But, Brendon couldn’t stop that instant and kept walking away. He was
desperate to get as far away from the bookstore as possible. I-It’s because
of that infuriating man! He is the worst! He cried within his head as he
continued storming his way down the brick lain streets of the town’s center.



However, his mother quickly made her way to his side and reached out to grasp
him, forcefully pulling him to an abrupt halt.



“Brendon, what has gotten into you?” She asked him, her voice slightly perturbed
as she stared down at him, her brows drawn together and her mouth set in a firm
line. “Do not act this way. I have not raised you to be so disrespectful.”



Brendon turned to his mother, then, to stare up into her stern and disapproving
features. Her words shamed him and he could immediately feel himself being
effected and upset by them. At first, he felt angry… He felt angry and hurt. But,
those emotions quickly deflated until he was just upset and ashamed of himself.



He could feel his eyes burning and he immediately looked away from her, closing
his eyes tightly. He breathed out a little harshly as he attempted to catch his
breath. All the smells of outside were engulfing him… The scents of nature, trees,
air, and wind. He could smell his mother, food from the street vendors, and even
the lingering odors of others.



Mr. Ardel’s scent still remained, on him and his clothes, but it was faint. And, with
his eyes closed and stinging, he could see him within the darkness of his mind. He
could hear his stupid voice… as he spoke to him and his mother. He was the most
infuriating man… He was a bad man…



His mother began to speak to him again, continuing to chastise him. Although, she
sounded more resigned and she was pulling him forward by the arm to walk with
her once more. They still had places to go, she told him. He wouldn’t act out
again, she said. Brendon remained silent and absently rubbed at his eyes. He
wouldn’t… He wouldn’t act out again because he had embarrassed his mother.
He knew that she was right and that he had been in the wrong with what he had
done.



He shouldn’t have done any of that… He didn’t know why he had gotten the way
he had. Brendon frowned and stared down at the walkway before him as his
mother continued leading him forward.



Mr. Ardel was a bad man… He couldn’t seem… to get him off of his mind. He kept
seeing him, seeing his emerald eyes. He kept hearing his voice…

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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I'M STRUGGLING TO FIGURE OUT WHO I AM, CHAINED BY THIS FEAR INSIDE
and i'm being drawn to you.
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@Brendon's Home

Brendon sat within a sofa seat in the living room, his legs pulled up and tucked
slightly underneath him. The coolness of outside pressed, lightly, against his back
from the window beside him. But, the heater was running and a vent was nearby,
keeping the rest of him nice and toasty warm.



Within his lap he cradled an open and large hardcover book. Its pages were laid
out to him, walls of writing, as he silently read. It was a pleasure of his… a
pastime he really enjoyed. He loved… fantasy books. He liked the moments he
could have, in the safety and comfort of home, where he could do something…
that he liked. It was the one thing…



One thing that his mom allowed him, and it always made him so giddy to read his
novels.



He liked to imagine fantasy heroes. He especially liked wolves. The thought made
him blush as he stared down at his book. He liked to picture them running through
the wild… but not as vicious creatures. He imagined their soft fur, their ears and
tail.



Brendon frowned, softly, however… and momentarily glanced up from his book.
He realized he had been doing a poor job of immersing himself into the story or
his reading. His mind kept going, kept distracting him. He thought about wolves
and their fur… but then he would think about something else…



Or, rather; someone else. He couldn’t smell his scent anymore… and hadn’t been
able to for a little bit now. He had recently bathed and had put on his sleepwear
since he and his mother had no further plans of going out for the day.



But, with the change of clothes and the bath…



Brendon frowned more and glanced toward the hallway. W-What was so special
about that stupid scent, anyway? I didn’t need it, he
told himself stubbornly, and tried once again to focus on his book. He should be
able to focus! The main hero was a wolf, after all! He could shape shift and… and
he was really cool…!



Brendon sighed and picked the book up, frustratingly smooshing its pages against
his face. He knew there was no way he could read it this way—he was just
throwing a temper tantrum in his own way. He really wanted to stomp his feet
and storm around the house.



But, he had never been allowed to do such things. They were rude and ridiculous.
They were disrespectful and childish. He wasn’t to stomp his foot and he most
certainly wasn’t to storm about…



He had already done it earlier this morning… and he had promised his mother that
he would not act out again. The thought of his promise instantly made him self-
conscious, and he quickly pulled the book from his face and placed it back down
into his lap once more.



To try and force himself to read and pay attention to his fantasy novel, he
propped it up onto his legs and began to read it aloud.

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