Hey, so here's a short one-shot thing. Please review, fave or follow if you like it and yeah... :)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own a thing, nor will I ever.
Edited: 23/12/15
The Only One
They'd all felt it, all of them, at some point in their lives. But then again, can you really name someone who hasn't? Everyone feels it, everyone wishes that they could do something about it, and everyone wishes - and hopes and prays - that their own loved ones won't experience it. But they do, because everyone does.
For Stef, it was when she was a teenager, when she first realised she wasn't... well, what her rather conservative father would call 'normal'. She was closer to girls than boys, and not just closer on an emotional scale. She liked them more, preferred them. And that scared her father, and so he forced her to talk to that vicar, to have that ill-fated conversation that she'd angrily remember well into her adult years. In fact, she didn't think that she'd ever forget it. That she'd ever forgive her father for doing that to her, for making her feel that way.
And she wasn't the only one.
For Lena, it was something she often felt like she experienced on a regular basis. First because of her heritage and because of what she was, because of what she wasn't. Her mother was constantly doing it, letting her know that she was different - and not just different from her peers, but different from her family too. She wasn't as pale as her father, not by a long shot, but she also wasn't as dark as her mother. She was in-between, one of the minority at school and one of a kind at home. She hated that, hated how separated from her parents it made her feel, but she learnt to except it. And then she realised she liked girls, that she was gay, and she felt it all over again, though now for different reasons. Again, she learnt to except the looks she got, the reactions caused when people realised. She'd rather be honest with herself and see those reactions than pretend otherwise and end up fearing them. So she lived with it, but the feeling never completely left her,
And she wasn't the only one.
For Brandon, it was because of his interests. His interests and his family. He didn't like sports - in fact, he had absolutely no talent for any of them - and he didn't have a stereotypical family. Instead, music was his passion and his family was a mix, a beautiful, blended patchwork of characters. There was nothing he'd change about them, but it didn't stop him from feeling it, from hearing the soft whispers of those thoughts he didn't want to think, didn't want to listen to. So he pushed them to the back of his mind. But still he felt it.
And he wasn't the only one.
For Callie, it was because of her life. First of all it was because of her father's reputation around town - an unemployed drunk who did little to help her mother - and then it was because of her mother's death and father's incarceration. And then it was because of what she therefore became - a lowly foster kid. Someone not worth the dirt she walked on. Someone you couldn't be bothered with. She knew the feeling, she knew it well. But she accepted it. Sure, she hated how worthless it made her feel, but she accepted it nonetheless. And it didn't go away.
And she wasn't the only one.
For Jesus, it was because of his mother, his ADHD and the pills he therefore had to take. All three separated him. All three gave him the feeling. at least he shared the mother with his sister. The other two though... well sometimes it made him so fed up. People treated him differently. A half the time they didn't realise that they were doing it, which actually made it worse. It was like the minute they found out he could no longer be considered normal, like they no longer understood him. And, honestly, that hurt. Which made the feeling even more present.
And he wasn't the only one.
For Mariana, it was because of her mother, those early childhood experiences she'd had, and her heritage. Sure, she was glad to at least share part of those memories - the ones that hurt her the most - with her brother, but they also served as a constant reminder - she'd been below drugs on her mother's list of priorities. But it didn't stop the feeling. And when her friend Lexi talked about the Latina traditions her family did, or during the brief moments in which she exchanged Spanish words with her twin, she couldn't help but be reminded. Reminded of how different she was to the rest of her family. That feeling - as well as others - stuck by her.
And she wasn't the only one.
For Jude, it was because of who he was, because of what he liked. He didn't know any other boys who liked to wear nail polish and dresses. In fact, mostly he just got teased for liking them. His sister, Callie, would try to protect him, to keep him from hearing what people said about him, but he knew, he still heard. And although he didn't always understand - after all, why should it matter to other people what he liked - surely so long as he din't mind, and it didn't affect anyone else, then it should be okay? But apparently it did, and so he also felt it. And it stayed with him as he grew up and came to realise what the world - what the people in it - were really like. Which meant that the feeling stayed with him.
And he wasn't the only one.
They all - Stef, Lena, Brandon, Callie, Jesus, Mariana and Jude - felt it at some point in their lives. They all carried the feeling with them. They all kept quiet about it.
Because what they were feeling was being alone, that feeling of pure isolation, as though in an impenetrable glass bubble, separated from everyone else. And how could any of them speak to anyone about it when they felt that way, when it was as though there was no one around for miles? They couldn't.
And they weren't the only ones.
But together... together they were happy. They knew they were loved and accepted. They knew they were safe. They knew they would never be judged. And they knew that they weren't alone, even when it felt that way.
Together, they knew they weren't the only ones, not by a long shot.