Ohana

When I was merely five years-old I heard Lilo and Stitch say those exact same words. When I was five I was naive, and I believed them. I once believed that family was important and that no matter what choices you make, no matter how many times you've made mistakes; your family would always be there for you,to support you and get you through the hard times. When I was five years-old I was quick to believe everything I heard in Disney movies, I believed in super heroes, I believed everything my older siblings would tell me, and I believed in love. As I grew up and that summer before I entered middle school I realized that everything I once believed in was fictional. My childhood was full of lies and false hope. The truth is that family will turn their backs on you, and do everything they can to bring you down. Family will point out all of your flaws and make you feel like less of a person. Family will put on a show in public, but once you're within confines of your home all hell breaks lose. I've learned to not trust anyone, especially family...

Tears pricked at my eyes as I stared at the quote that used to mean so much to me as a child. A teardrop slid down my face and landed on the paper, blotting out some of the words making them hard to read. Anger boiled in my veins as I reread the words with blurry vision, and I stabbed the paper with the pen I had been writing with causing it to tear. My body shook violently as I allowed tears to flow freely down my face, trying to choke back the sobs, and the pen fell from hands. The paper I had previously been writing on was soaked with tears causing the ink to smear. I wiped furiously at my face willing the tears to go away, but much to my dismay more hot tears slid down my face. Standing from my chair, I went over to my bed and put on my favorite Avion Roe hoodie making sure to cover my disheveled head with the hood. I also grabbed a sketchbook and a pencil before quietly exiting my room, making sure to close the door behind me. As soon as I stepped into the hallway I could hear loud voices from downstairs. A distraught sigh passed my lips as I slowly walked towards the stairs. I just wanted to get out of her unnoticed and not bothered.

As soon as my foot touched the first step eyes were on me. The judgmental stares burned my skin, but I didn't meet their gazes and I didn't let their stares faze me. Eyes followed me the whole time I descended the stairs. I wanted to yell, but I refrained from doing so.

"Cayden?" the woman that I've been forced to call my mother for years called as I made my way to the front door. I didn't acknowledge her. "where are you going?"

"Out," I murmured, still not looking up to meet their eyes.

""Out where exactly?" she asked in a sickeningly, fake concerned voice.

"To get some fresh air," I reluctantly answered.

"Hey, fag, stop being such a smart-ass." That was the guy I had to call my older brother; the guy I looked up to for years, the guy I used to want to be like until things changed.

I could already feel the tears threatening to escape. I tried my best to keep them at bay, because I hated crying front of my "family". It was entertaining for them whether they caused them or not. My so-called sister liked to ask me if I was okay, but by the sound of her voice and the glint in her eyes, I knew she didn't really care. The man I used to be proud to call my father would tell me to stop crying and to "man up". Wiping at my eyes, I ignored them and continued to walk towards the front door. As my hand reached out for the doorknob a hand roughly grabbed my shoulder, turning me around.
My teary eyes looked up to pale green eyes similar to mine. My brother had a firm glare set on me, his hand roughly squeezing my shoulder. A quiet whimper left my mouth as he dug his fingers into my shoulder. His grip was so tight I thought he'd break my shoulder.

"Are you going to see your stupid little boyfriend?" he growled at me.

I shook in his grip as I looked up into those eyes that used to be so warm and sincere, now they're filled with hatred and disgust. I stayed silent as tears continued to slide down my face and I silently cursed at myself for crying in front of him. He roughly let go of my shoulder slamming me against the door. My eyes shut tightly and I winced at the pain that was currently coursing through my back.

"You're disgusting," he spat at me before turning on his heel and heading back into the living room with his family.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the spot he was previously standing in with blurry eyes. I stood there thinking about the times when family actually meant something. I stood there thinking about the times that I felt safe, loved, and wanted around my family. Those days were thrown away;forgotten, a distant memory that feels more like a dream. Those days were gone and were never coming back. Sniffling, I wiped at my face once again before turning around to open the door. I eagerly exited the hellhole I was currently residing in and made sure to slam the door behind me.

It was nine o'clock at night, and I was walking the streets alone. A small, fourteen year-old boy walking the streets alone at night wasn't the best idea, but my family obviously could care less. They didn't really care where I was going. They wouldn't even care if I got kidnapped and raped, or murdered. I felt so pathetic as I walked down the deserted street with tears still freely flowing down my cheeks. Sometimes I wish that I wasn't so sensitive, and that I didn't cry so easily.

Fifteen minutes later I was at the park. There was only one light that lit up the park. No one came to this park anymore, it was abandoned because they built a new playground and skate-park in town. That was why I loved it. It was so peaceful and I could be alone, relax, and run away from my troubles here. This was my home. I made my way over to the swing set and sat down on the only swing that was still hanging on completely. Dropping my sketchbook on the ground next to me, I unhooked one of the safety pins from jeans. I stared at the small pin, turning it over in my hand and examining it. I rolled the left sleeve of my hoodie up as tears steadily fell from my eyes, and then I ran the pointed in of the pin along my arm. I carved the word disgusting along my arm, not pressing down hard enough to bleed but enough to leave scars. I slowly traced the letters with the pin, their voices echoing in my head. I shook my head hoping that it would help rid me of the voices.

After a while of tracing over the letters, I picked my sketchbook up and started sketching a picture. Art was my escape; that and music. Without art and music I don't know where I'd be. I'd possibly be dead, honestly. With the kids in middle school constantly calling me names, staring at me with their judgmental eyes, and shoving me around; and my family judging me and shunning me, I honestly don't see a point in living. My art is dark and sullen effectively emitting my feelings. My arm started to sting from where I had scarred my skin, and I put my pencil down absentmindedly picking at the scars. I never actually cut myself before, because I was too coward and blood made me nauseated.

A sound from the distance caused me to jump slightly, causing me to break skin where the scars were forming. I looked up and my eyes searched the dark. It was pitch black and the only street lamp that lit up the park wasn't bright enough. I heard the sound again, and I vaguely recognized it as the sound of a guitar. I stared into the darkness until a figure stepped out of it. It took me a moment to recognize the figure. He went to the high school I'd be attending in the fall. I've been admiring him from afar since I saw him in the Homecoming parade when I was in the seventh grade. He was the quarterback for the high school's football team, and he was really popular. His name is Gavin. I stared up at him as his eyes landed on me.

"Oh, shit, I didn't realize there was someone else here," he gasped placing a hand to his chest. My mouth stayed shut as he came closer to me. He was even more beautiful up close. He put his guitar strap around his shoulder as he stood in front of me.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" he asked raising an eyebrow. I still didn't reply, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm insane by now.

Suddenly, he gasped and I just sat there confused as he looked down at me with his mouth opened slightly. "You're bleeding!" he explained.

I looked down and sure enough I was bleeding. The abused skin on my left arm was bleeding, though it wasn't gushing out like a waterfall like you'd think it was by his reaction. The blood rolled down my arm and dripped onto my opened sketchbook. I looked up at the boy as he took his guitar off and laid it gently on the ground beside him. He knelt down in front of me removing my sketchbook from my lap and taking my arm in his hand. I tried pulling away from him, but my attempt failed as he examined my arms. I bit my lip as my eyes began to water for the umpteenth time. He looked up at me, but I quickly turned my head so he wouldn't see the tears.

"Why did you do this?" he asked softly. I didn't answer him. He put his hand under my shin and turned my face gently so I was looking at him. I tired blinking away the tears, but it only caused more to fall.

"Hey, don't cry," he said gently wiping at the tears with his thumb.

I tried to stop, but everything suddenly came crashing hard and soon I was sobbing uncontrollably. Gavin pulled me off of the swing and into his lap and he held me as I cried. I've tried so hard to have an "I don't care" attitude, but the truth is I do care. I miss the feeling of having a family; people who cared for me, who loved me unconditionally. I missed the relationship my brother and I had. I just wish my family accepted me for who I am. If family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, why has my family forgotten me? Why has my family shoved me aside? My sobs soon turned into hiccups, and I was just sniffling. Gavin pulled away and held me at arms length. He stared at me and I cringed, looking away, because I know I look horrible. My eyes are all swollen and red from all of the crying that I've done.

We sat in silence until I let out a breath and finally answered him. "My family hates me," I begin. I didn't stop to look at his expression I just kept going. "They-They turned their backs on me when I came out. I always thought that no matter what family would be there for you, but apparently when things don't turn out the way they want it to they turn away. They turn away and leave you to drown in your misery.

"An-And I can't take it anymore." Cue the tears. "I'm tired of being treated like scum just because of the way I am. They're my family they're supposed to be there for me and support me, and-and love me." By this point I was sobbing again, and I knew he thought I was pathetic.

"I know what you mean," he said to my surprise.

I wiped at my eyes and looked at him. "You do?" I asked carefully.

He nodded and looked down briefly before looking back into my eyes. "My parents divorced when I came out. They argued about who'd get custody over me because neither one of them wanted me. I was a freshman in high school and I turned to all sorts of unhealthy things, before I turned to music. I've been living on my own ever since." he explained.

My eyes were wide and my mouth was slightly opened, because I couldn't believe that Gavin, the attractive, popular football player's family shunned him also. In a way that made me feel good, but I felt bad for him at the same time. We sat in silence, and it was so comfortable I wanted to stay here with him forever, but sadly I had to return home. I let out a distraught sigh causing Gavin to look at me confusedly.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I don't want to go back home," I sighed looking down.

"You don't have to," he replied.

I looked up at him curiously and he grinned at me. "I'm gonna kidnap you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You are?"

He nodded. "You don't mind do you?" I let out a quiet giggle, and gave him a small smile as I shook my head. "Good, I was kidnapping you either way though."

He grinned as he gathered our things and helped me up. I looked up at him with a small smile on my lips and wrapped my arms around him. I caught him off guard causing him to stumble lightly, but he quickly regained his balance and wrapped his arms around me also. We stood there for a moment embracing one another.

"Thank you," I murmured in his shirt.

"Anytime," he answered as I pulled away. "I'm Gavin by the way."

I know. I didn't say that out loud, I just smiled. "Cayden."

"That's a beautiful name," he commented causing me to blush. He smiled at me and grabbed my hand causing my cheeks to heat up even more. "Well, Cayden," he started squeezing my hand. "I'll be the family you deserve to have."

I smiled up at him. "I like the sound of that."

"And by the way," he added as he turned to look at me. "You're not disgusting, you're beautiful."