5.

I arrived home and knocked on the door.

"Hello Xavier." My mother answered the door.

"Hi." I say as I walked in.

"Well, how was school? Did you settle in?" She asked.

I grab a chip packet and sit down at the table.

'Well I was intimidated by this guy named Shawn and then I kind of fell for this really cute boy with the most unique hair and engaging eyes, but I didn't make any friends, that was my day.'

But instead I said.

"It was fine."

"Oh okay, that's good. Your father said he will be coming home a bit late."

Silence filled the house. It was awkward at first, but I tried to zone out to ignore the awkwardness.

"I'm going to do homework now." I say, getting up and putting the chip packet in the bin.

"Okay, bye sweetheart."

I climb the stairs up to my room and close the door behind me. I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding.

"What is the purpose of this?" I say. I look around my room. It's nothing. Just all materialistic things. I fall to the ground. All of these things I collect, for myself but no one else will ever see them. If that is so, then is there even a point? 

"I want someone to love me for who I am."

'Your mother loves you."

"I know, she doesn't like me being gay though, so she doesn't love me for who I am."

"Yeah... sorry."

"It's okay... I just want someone I can be myself around, who will be there for me, who can handle me and my mind. You know?"

"Yeah."

"I feel lost. If I don't find anyone to do that with, what the fuck is all this for? Why am I writing for? Why do I draw if no one will ever fucking see it? What is my life for?" I cry. I cry so badly. It's true. No one cares. No one knows. The tears wet the side of my face and the floor which I am lying on. I try to cry silently, actually let me be honest with you, I cry silently with ease, why? Because I've done it so many times before. I shouldn't be able to cry like this. It should be hard to cry like this, but it isn't, because my life is fucked up. I am fucked up.

"Xavier?" The voice says.

"Yeah."

"The notes."

I rise from the floor. A curious feeling reveals itself in me, along with anger and sadness. I get my bag and pull out the notes.

Stay.

ILTT.

What is it supposed to mean?

"I don't know."

"It's probably an insult, let's be honest with ourselves."

"Xavier, you could be wrong, not everything is an insult."

"Well, in my life it is."

"I wish I could help." The voice says.

"Yeah... wait, you are me. What the fuck is happening? I just spent the last 10 minutes talking to you.. no me. Myself. Argh, kill me please."

"Well you've gotten used to it. Stick to the demon you know, yeah?"

"I guess."

I feel overwhelmed. All these problems are just piling up, I need to write. I get out my book to resume my poem.

"I need just one word... just one."

"Do you have any ideas?" I ask myself.

"Umm...no."

"Hmm..." I look around the room for inspiration. The red ink stands out to me.

Stay? Could that fit?

I want to run far, far away

To a place where I feel I can’t stray

Stay somewhere I feel welcome 

And not like an outcast

Because it seems everywhere I go

I feel like a victim eaten up fast

For once I plead

Someone to ask me 

Will you please... stay?'

And just like that, with the one word the poem completed itself, it became whole , it was finished, it's own living and breathing entity of words and letters and deep meaning. 

"Wow, that's kind of spooky, don't you think?"

"I know. It fits perfectly. I've finished the poem. Because of that word. Thank you yellow sticky note. Oh wow I'm speechless."

"Well, someone obviously put it in there." The voice said.

"Yeah you are right. But who? And how? But no one even knows about my writings. No one knows I exist." I think about this. Something is wrong. How? Just how?

However, this is not only my creation now, this is also something I share with someone else. 

"Xavier dinner time!" I heard my mother call.

I exit the room, the thought still on my mind.

"Hi honey, tonight we have steak." She put the plate on the table. It smelt wonderful. But I haven't been hungry since that night.

We sat in silence. Eating.

"Xavier, what your father said about your sexuality, don't think of it too much. It's not that much of a deal."

"It's not that much of a deal!? It's not even a deal at all mother. We shouldn't even be arguing about it in the first place. I should just be able to be myself in front of you guys but I can't fu- I can't do that! I feel like I'm being judged every step I take in this house. I hate it." I say. I couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Why don't you say that to my face son?" A deep voice from across the room booms, breaking my soul and confidence. I felt myself shrinking so small in my seat, so small I could disappear, and in this very moment, that is exactly what I wanted. 

Oh fuck.