Pocrescophobia

Each step brings pain. Pain to my weary legs, pain to my weary stomach, pain to my weary heart. I can barely see the road through my tears. How could he do that? I know how. Because he's fucking heartless. How dare he show everyone how fat I really am? How even though I've been working at this for so long, I can still feel my legs and stomach jiEach step brings pain. Pain to my weary legs, pain to my weary stomach, pain to my weary heart. I can barely see the road through my tears. How could he do that? I know how. Because he's fucking heartless. How dare he show everyone how fat I really am? How even though I've been working at this for so long, I can still feel my legs and stomach jiggle when I run? How much of a failure I really am? Well, it's too late now. Everyone knows and now they'll never stop.

Although my house is a good five miles away, I try to run for as long as I can, figuring I could use the exercise. But after a few minutes, I'm huffing and puffing like I've been smoking for 10 years. I'm so out of shape. By the time I'm almost halfway home, I finally stop and bend over on the side of the road on a nice, grassy part, trying to regulate my breathingand crying. Soon enough, I end up laying down and curling up into a fetal position on the warm ground, crying silently to myself. I'll never live this down. If not with everyone at school, then with myself. I'll never forget the look on their faces when he ripped off the one last piece of dignity I managed to retain. The one thing keeping me from being completely vulnerable. The thing that makes me so... ugly. I guess that that's what hurts the most. Knowing that I'll never be beautiful.

Knowing that no one will ever love me. Knowing that no one will ever care. Knowing that no one will ever want to me theirs. And as I wipe away the last of my tears and sit up, I realise what I have to do, and start to march with avid determination towards my house.

The moment that I finally walk into the house, I notice my mom sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a nice cup of coffee and a piece of piece. Lucky bitch can eat and not get fat.Unlike me. Once she notices me, her eyebrows furrow at the mess that is her son.

"Arden? What are you doing home so early?" she questions, ready to punish me for skipping. I just shake my head sadly, looking at her directly. She finally notices that my entire face is blotchy and my eyes are red and puffy. Along with the fact that for once, I'm not wearing a ton of clothes.

"Oh no, baby, what happened?" she coos, looking obviously distressed. As she takes me into her arms, I start to break down again, completely losing my confidence to ask something of her. But she just rocks me gently back and forth and gently runs a hand through my hair repeatedly, a gesture that only a mother can do.

"Oh my poor baby. Shh, it'll be okay. What happened?" she says quietly. I just shake my head into her chest, not wanting to talk about it. "It-It doesn't matter," I rasp out. "But can you... can you do something for me?" I ask.

"Of course I can, Arden. What is it?" she asks, pulling back slightly to look me in the face. With a red face, I look down slightly, a little embarrassed to ask. I've never been really good at talking to people, not even my parents. The only person I'm somewhat good at interacting with is Cheyenne.

"Um, do you think that maybe I could... visit Uncle Charles and Aunt Dana, just for a few months? I just... I don't think that I can handle being here for much longer," I ask, finally looking shyly up into my mother's eyes. With a sad look in her eyes, she just nods a bit and hugs me back to her.

"When your dad gets home, we'll talk and see what we can do about it. I know we haven't been very... good parents lately, but believe me when I say that I would do anything to make sure that you're happy and healthy, all you need to do is come and ask, okay?" she tells me.

Without another word, I just fall limp in her arms and nod, finally completely falling victim to the maternal comforting. Within minutes, I'm sound asleep in my mother's arms, completely drained from the events of the consequential day.
ggle when I run? How much of a failure I really am? Well, it's too late now. Everyone knows and now they'll never stop.

Although my house is a good five miles away, I try to run for as long as I can, figuring I could use the exercise. But after a few minutes, I'm huffing and puffing like I've been smoking for 10 years. I'm so out of shape. By the time I'm almost halfway home, I finally stop and bend over on the side of the road on a nice, grassy part, trying to regulate my breathingand crying. Soon enough, I end up laying down and curling up into a fetal position on the warm ground, crying silently to myself. I'll never live this down. If not with everyone at school, then with myself. I'll never forget the look on their faces when he ripped off the one last piece of dignity I managed to retain. The one thing keeping me from being completely vulnerable. The thing that makes me so... ugly. I guess that that's what hurts the most. Knowing that I'll never be beautiful.

Knowing that no one will ever love me. Knowing that no one will ever care. Knowing that no one will ever want to me theirs. And as I wipe away the last of my tears and sit up, I realise what I have to do, and start to march with avid determination towards my house.

The moment that I finally walk into the house, I notice my mom sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a nice cup of coffee and a piece of piece. Lucky bitch can eat and not get fat.Unlike me. Once she notices me, her eyebrows furrow at the mess that is her son.

"Arden? What are you doing home so early?" she questions, ready to punish me for skipping. I just shake my head sadly, looking at her directly. She finally notices that my entire face is blotchy and my eyes are red and puffy. Along with the fact that for once, I'm not wearing a ton of clothes.

"Oh no, baby, what happened?" she coos, looking obviously distressed. As she takes me into her arms, I start to break down again, completely losing my confidence to ask something of her. But she just rocks me gently back and forth and gently runs a hand through my hair repeatedly, a gesture that only a mother can do.

"Oh my poor baby. Shh, it'll be okay. What happened?" she says quietly. I just shake my head into her chest, not wanting to talk about it. "It-It doesn't matter," I rasp out. "But can you... can you do something for me?" I ask.

"Of course I can, Arden. What is it?" she asks, pulling back slightly to look me in the face. With a red face, I look down slightly, a little embarrassed to ask. I've never been really good at talking to people, not even my parents. The only person I'm somewhat good at interacting with is Cheyenne.

"Um, do you think that maybe I could... visit Uncle Charles and Aunt Dana, just for a few months? I just... I don't think that I can handle being here for much longer," I ask, finally looking shyly up into my mother's eyes. With a sad look in her eyes, she just nods a bit and hugs me back to her.

"When your dad gets home, we'll talk and see what we can do about it. I know we haven't been very... good parents lately, but believe me when I say that I would do anything to make sure that you're happy and healthy, all you need to do is come and ask, okay?" she tells me.

Without another word, I just fall limp in her arms and nod, finally completely falling victim to the maternal comforting. Within minutes, I'm sound asleep in my mother's arms, completely drained from the events of the consequential day.