The Art Of Finding Balance [boyxboy]

04

"Mycah honey. Please get up?" Jillian spoke softly, sitting on the edge of her son's bed and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Go away." Mycah huffed through his tears, pulling the duvet over himself completely.

The bed dipped slightly with her weight. "Do you want me to bring you something to eat?"

"I want you to leave."

Why was she being so stubborn? Mycah clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut under the duvet. His head buzzed with a thousand thoughts, every single one sending more tears spilling from his eyes.

"Did you take your tablets Mycah?" She asked softly.

"No Mother. I didn't take them and I don't want to take them."

"Why not?"

"Because I forgot, Jesus Christ. Sorry that we can't all be perfect."

"Will you take them for me now?"

"No."

"You know you have to Mycah."

"Yeah, because I'm a freak."

"Don't use that word honey."

"Why not? It's the truth." He snapped.

"You are not a freak Mycah." Jillian said sternly, heart breaking at her son's words.

"I don't want to take them mom. They make me feel useless. Like I'm so fucked up I depend on pills to be normal. Of course I'm a fucking freak." He spat, choking on tears as he spoke.

"Mycah Julian Rhodes, you are not fucked up, or a freak. You're just a boy that has a lot to deal with."

"I don't care. I'm not leaving this bed. Get out." He spat, turning over and shoving his face into the pillow.

"Are you sure you don't want me to bring up something to eat?" She asked.

Mycah shot up into a sitting position. "Get out!" He shouted, thrusting his pointed finger towards the door.

"I love you honey." Jillian said softly, smiling sadly at her son before getting up and quietly leaving the room.

Mycah watched her go, choking out sobs. He felt a stab of guilt from shouting at his mother. Great, as if he didn't already feel like shit.

He stared at the wall, warm tears still streaming down his face. God he was a fuck up. The doctors and his parents always told him it wasn't his fault, but of course it was. None of his friends relied on medication to stay stable.

Thinking of his group of friends brought Arden back to his mind. Oh god.

Arden was probably having a field day downstairs. 'Ooh Mycah's fucked up.' 'Golly, I didn't realize he was such a fucking mess.'

The thought angered Mycah even more and he let out a shriek of rage, picking up a random book from his bedside and hurling it at the wall.

Mycah was embarrassed. Arden had seen him cry. Jesus Christ, he was never going to live that down.

It had started this morning. Arden was being his usual morning person self. But Mycah was feeling angstier than usual, like there was an itch he just couldn't scratch, a niggle at the back of his mind. He had snapped at Arden to 'shut his fucking mouth.'

Arden had told him to piss off, and instead of Mycah just snapping back he broke down in tears.

He had never seen anyone look so freaked out as Arden had looked in that moment. The memory almost brought a smile to his face. Almost.

Instead he turned back onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and cursing the day he was born. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he was no longer sobbing. He was drained, all his energy depleted.

He cursed his brain. Why did it have to be him? It was so unfair.

Why him that was born with the fucked up mind? Why was it him that had relied on prescription drugs just to feel normal since the age of eleven?

There had been signs before then, of course. But by eleven his parents realised it wasn't just childish sulking.

There had always been two sides to Mycah Rhodes. The half white half black kid. The guy that was into girls, and the guy that was into other dudes. The guy that lived for poking fun at his friends, while at the same time being the understanding friend who was always there.

The guy that spent a vast majority of his time having a laugh with a grin plastered on his face, but on occasion curled up in bed with a cloud of depression hazing his thoughts.

Biracial, bisexual, and bipolar.

Always two sides of the same dice with Mycah Rhodes.

His head swarmed, his whirring thoughts like a beehive of self hatred. Every flaw picked apart. Freak. The word was on loop in his head.

He was a weapon of mass destruction, and his main target was himself. The kind words of his mother didn't matter. Because what good were outside words if the voice in your head is so much louder, so much more negative?

This was a side of Mycah that was strictly off limits to anyone who wasn't himself or his parents. Nobody else saw this side of Mycah Rhodes. He couldn't imagine that they'd want to be his friends if they did.

But even all that was ruined now. Because Arden saw. And Arden was smart. He may not know exactly what was happening with Mycah, but he surely realised enough to know that Mycah was fucked up.

Mycah blamed his parents. If they hadn't decided to go on this stupid vacation with Arden's family, the other boy would never have found out. Arden's parents knew about Mycah's mental health struggles. Stacy had been one of the first people Jillian had turned to when she began to worry about her son's well-being.

But Stacy had always respected Mycah's wish for privacy, and agreed not to share details of his bipolar disorder with her son.

As far as Mycah knew, Arden had never even suspected anything was wrong. Never questioned when Mycah missed a couple of days from school without explanation. When the other boy was occasionally absent from the family dinners.

But now Arden knew something was up. Of course he did. What sort of teenage boy bursts into tears, seemingly out of nowhere? Mycah didn't doubt that if Stacy hadn't told her son yet, it wouldn't be long.

And much as he knew he would eventually hate that Arden had something over his head, for now he couldn't bring himself to care. He was broken, and whether or not Arden knew didn't change that fact.

Nothing could change that fact. Not even the medicine. The pills were nothing more than a quick fix, just a temporary plaster. In the long run, there was no solution for Mycah.

He sat up then, leaning over and stretching his arm out until he reached the curtains. He could see the families playing on the beach, and a bitter sense of jealousy swelled up inside him. They were so carefree, so normal, while he was holed up in his room like a loser, with tears drying on his face and a sick feeling in his stomach.

He wrenched the curtains closed.

He couldn't hear any noise from downstairs and for a moment he wondered if he was home alone. But that was stupid thinking. His parents wouldn't leave him alone in the house whilst he was suffering from an episode. Weapon of mass destruction, remember?

Mycah considered watching a movie on the television in their room, but decided against it. He didn't have the emotional energy to concentrate on anything right now.

He tried to tell himself that this would pass. These episodes never lasted more than a couple of days. A week if it was extreme. But, like always, he couldn't see that. Couldn't see past the here and now. Past the darkness.

—-

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!! The next one won't be for about 2 weeks because I'm going abroad and I won't have access to Wattpad *sobs*

Please vote, comment etc!!

Xoxoxo

-A