[Warning: Cringey Content, Homophobic Slur and Ableism to prove bad guy is bad-do not agree with, Mentions of blood, Abusive parent. Here come the feels again...]

(Previously: I stop refusing to move until she texts him to do so. She sighs impatiently and then after rapid typing says, “There, I set him it.” A return message noise puts me at ease especially as she says, “He sat down.”)

“Okay, let’s go,” I tap the ground with my cane and feel the slightly anxious hand of my stepmom on my forearm. After a while the silence starts getting to me, “You really love my dad don’t you?” 

“Wow, what a strange thing to ask.” She replies in monotone and dare I say disgust. 

“I was actually just trying to open up the conversation.” I explain starting to feel anxious.

“It’s not the first time you’ve asked me either,” she says. “But you’re not the person I have to prove it to anyway.” 

“Oh,” I say and then take a deep breath for courage, “Actually it’s always been completely obvious to me, I just thought you’d appreciate that I could see it.” 

“Well not see it.” She mutters. 

“Even better, sense it.” I force humorlessly, “But, I love my dad a lot, so… I said something really important today.” 

“About you being gay?” My stepmother snorts. 

I stop short, “how did you..? Right, text messages.” I sigh. ‘It’s actually bi,’ but I don’t bother to correct her. Then anxiously ask, “What did he say?” Agonizing silence follows.

“How do you think he took it, considering we’re having to find him?” She says finally, with a hand on my elbow, pulling me. My gut wrenches with guilt and uncertainty, my cane sweeping the ground in front of me disappears and I reach it out finding the ground again so I could step over the hole. 

“How do you feel about it?” I ask mostly just wanting validation from someone. Another long pause, she’s breathing kind of hard, not to mention she’s kind of clammy. 

“I don’t think this is the time for a conversation like this.” She says. Then I guess after checking her phone goes, “He says he walked for quite a while so, if you could possibly move faster?” I grit my teeth but push myself to go as fast as I could, “Atta boy,” She says, easily keeping up with me, but letting go of my arm. “This way, to the right,” Her voice calls from in front of me. 

I try my best to hurry, starting to sweat and pant when she keeps ahead of me, just out of reach. We walk for what literally feels like forever, my feet hurt, I've scraped my shins and tripped multiple times. And my thoughts are far from motivating. 

“Well, it’s not like it’s actually any of your business,” I say suddenly crankily, mostly from the situation, “If I decided I want to move out, what I do with my life is none of your,” I gasp for air, “Concern.” 

“What?” She says from right next to me, she starts guiding me again, letting the pace slow. “You were gonna move out?” 

“Uh, I mean,” I swallow, realizing that yeah eventually, “Did you think I was gonna live with you and dad forever?” 

“Yes, actually,” she says.  I pause, stopping mostly because I need to catch my breath. I’m thinking about our brief life together. She always felt…off.

“Darlene?” I ask. 

She lets a surprising laugh out, “What?”

I clench my fist on my cane, “The furniture moving, forgetting to feed me or bringing me food you know I can’t eat, the open knife, and the ball on the stairs just today…do you hate me?” She starts walking again. “Wait!” I exclaim following her deeper into the cave, “Why? I didn’t do anything to make you feel unwanted, I was never spiteful or anything. I knew you made my dad happy, I don’t get it?” She keeps walking and I struggle to move faster. “Darlene! Did you think I didn’t want a stepmother or something? Did you think I would just automatically hate you?!” 

She grabs my shoulders, making me gasp, “Because that’s not the case,” I whisper, “I probably would have really liked you if you were just nice.” 

Her shoulders are shaking, ‘Was she crying?’ Then a noise sends a chill down my spine. 

Laughter, bone-chilling it gets louder and louder until my heart starts racing in fear, “How could I love a stupid, blind, faggot like you.” Venom drips from her words and it stings. I feel my mouth fall open and then the echo reaches me, ‘Where are we?’ “You took,” She says softly, voice shaking with hatred, then screams, “All! Of his attention,” She shakes me, I choke on fear, “I was like, sure!” Her voice goes mockingly high pitched then she moves away and I hear her pacing back and forth, “I can take care of your disabled kid, but I meet you and you’re NOT!” She yells again, “A kid. You’re an adult,” she laughs in a way that makes me feel unsafe. It’s echoing like crazy. To the point it feels like there’s multiple of her all around me. I feel like I’m surrounded.

She takes a long breath and continues,“Then, I was like okay even better I’ll have more time with my husband.” I back up, my hand out for a comforting sense. My hand touches a wall and I press against it. But she starts walking towards me, ‘shit I’m shaking, I hate that I’m scared right now but she sounds manic. Unhinged, she wouldn’t…actually hurt me right?’ “But.” She whispers right in front of me, my eyes widen and I try not to focus on how numb my lips are, “All he cared about was you, all he talked about was you, no honeymoon, no dates, everything. Revolved. Around. You.”

I don’t know how but I manage to get out, “So I’ll leave.”

She laughs like a maniac again, “Oh, yes, you’ll leave but that’s not enough, he’ll want you to visit, he’ll talk about you while you’re gone, he’ll want us to go see you all the time…can you see the dilemma? I can’t make him forget you but I can…” she whispers right into my ear, “Get rid of You!” She starts dragging me.

I struggle, “Don’t do this!” I manage to grab onto her hair and pull. She lets out an enraged screech and letting go slaps me across the face, being a burlier woman, it knocks me to the ground. Then she grabs my shirt, lifting me a little only to slam me against the ground as hard as she can, when I cry out she grabs my hair with one hand, shirt with the other and starts dragging me.

I reach up fumbling for something, clawing at her arms and face. I must have succeeded cause she cusses and drops me. I try to scramble away, ‘Where’s my cane?!’ But she kicks me in the side. I cough dropping as the pain knocks the air out of me. She kicks me a few more times until, gasping in, I beg, “Please!” I retch, amazed that I hadn’t thrown up, “Please stop!” I cough, “I won’t visit,” I cry, “I won’t even let him know where I live.” She walks around me slowly, maybe considering it as I barely lift myself onto my knees, holding my stomach, “Please.” I look up terrified that I’m going to be beaten to a pulp and left to die.

I hear the tap of my cane, head jerking up higher in an automatic response, ‘Of course she’d have it.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” she says before striking me across the face with it. The sting is bearable, the feeling of blood and spit spraying from my mouth less so. ‘That’s it I just need to run!’ Except my body won’t work, I can barely crawl. “Look how pathetic you are.” She goads, “I planned this for a long time. I pictured something like a dramatic betrayal but honestly,” she smacks me with the cane again, across the back, and I let out a mixture of a scream and sob. “Drawing it out is much more enjoyable.”

I know not to say anything to make her more angry so I try, “If my dad finds out…” Blood trickles into my mouth, “Do you think he’ll still love you?”

She taps me gently with the cane, making me flinch, “I’m not stupid, that’s why I dragged you so deep into these caves, it was actually closed off because it was too dangerous for tourists but when I found it…” She breathes in a hiss through her teeth, “It was perfect. So I made a lame excuse to get you here, I made you have a panic attack, and then sent your dad out to the car to get your inhaler in case it happened again, all the stars aligned perfectly for this one moment!” I imagine her arms spreading like a stereotypical villain, and snort face pressed against the cold stone.

She growls a question, guess I ruined her moment. I hear my cane get placed down and she tries grabbing me again. I struggle but I wasn’t in that good of shape before and the blows were still crippling. It hurts to move. “Can you stand?” She asks coldly. I groan as she forces me to my feet but I’m still doubled over, “Mmm, good enough.” She says and she steps away handing me my cane. “I’m going to let you go now.” She says backing me up a few steps, I feel a twinkle of hope.

Then she pushes me with so much force I straighten and bend backwards. The initial shock of being pushed before a second and much more terrifying shock that I was falling. I flash back to the ball on the stairs waiting to feel the cave floor on my back but after an impossibly long moment that was only seconds, and the time it would have taken to hit the ground…I keep falling. Then it settles in that this was a much, much longer fall.

A scream of terror tears from my throat as I fall down, down, down into the impossibly long darkness. And even then I’m still waiting for the cave floor. Maybe I was wrong. But the echo of my own scream bounces back and around me. I’m going to die. I’m going to get impaled by a stalagmight. The noise of my own scream is going to be the last thing I hear.

I go in and out of the reality of what is happening, I can’t even look down, so I have to guess…the terror is almost enought to stop my heart. It’s strange cause now I don’t feel like I’m falling anymore. I’m standing on a sidewalk. Oh, it’s this memory again.’ My mother smiles at me. “Get in.” I look around frantically for the truck, jumping into the passenger seat, “Go, go, go!” I exclaim frantically, thankfully she listens before questioning me. A few moments later the truck crashes behind us, no fatalities. I grab the seat belt panting, looking behind us. “I…did it?” I look at my mom half expecting her to be a bloody corpse but she is just confused, “How did you know?” She asks.

“Is this a dream?” I say softly, but my body still hurts and blood drips on my hands drawing her attention.

“Oh honey, I'm so sorry that you feel like it’s your fault. I could have parked even one car space up and you’d still be able to see,” she touches my face. “It’s neither of our faults.” She finishes. I’m crying, ‘there are so many things I need to tell her. About me being bi and that I wish I was a better son.’ “I know baby, and I love you more than anything.” she smiles, shining beautifully with her soft and loving smile.

“I love you.” I say simply as my vision starts to fade on the edges. “Dad misses you too and-” I can’t tell her about Darlene.

My mom's eyes darken, “I will deal with her later,” she wipes my bloody nose, “but it’s time for you to wake up, you still have a lot more living to do.”

“Then do you know about-”

“Sarah and Kris, of course.”

“You’re…” ‘Okay with that?’, I gasp struggling to breathe.

“Good, keep breathing.” My mom says, “Breathe.”

I gasp and gasp and the vision starts to fade faster, “No!” I sob and hold my breath, “I’m not ready yet there’s so many things I have to say, that I have to do!”

My mom hugs me, “I’ve seen what true love looks like so, yeah I support it,” she bobs her head playfully, “Just remember that you have to work for it…” She brushes my hair back with her fingers and kisses my temple. “We’re out of time.” She says simply.

“Was this real?” I ask breathing again, “Or just a dream?” She looks at me with that knowing smile. Her eyes are the last thing I see. The last thing I hear is, “It’s whatever you need it to be, besides you know I’d say all those things anyway.” She laughs and then I wake up. 

I cough up a mouthful of blood only remembering the warmth of a dream but not exactly what it was about, I feel better though. That is my heart does, but my body feels very, very broken.  

“See, it's alive. I told you. Let's go.” A very heavily accented and somewhat gravely voice says near me.

Right above me a new softer voice asks, “Are you alive?” I look straight up and feel a smile twitch in the corner of my mouth before passing out.