Alec Pov
I woke up to someone ringing the doorbell. I sat up and realized I was on Johns couch.

John got up from the chair and opened the door.
George was there.

"Boys? Did you just wake up? It's one pm!" George exclaimed.

I wiped my eyes and muttered,
"Yeah sort of."

"How long did you two stay up?" He asked.

John and I shared a glance.
"About five am." John muttered. "Doing what?!" George exclaimed.

"Stuff." John and I said in unison.

It's not like I'd want to tell George we were up till dawn playing Dungeons and Dragons then played Mini Golf while blaring Revolution by the Beatles on Johns phone.

George sighed and said,
"See you later John."

I got up and followed George outside.
"A-are you mad?" I choked.

"What? No I'm not mad. You're a kid. Kids do that kind of thing." He said, getting in the car.

Normal kid.
If I had pulled that stunt a year ago, I would've already had bruises and cuts on my back.

I sat down in the car trying my best not to think about what would've happened if I hadn't been taken in by George and Martha.

I remember thinking that all the abuse was normal.
That I deserved it.
Sometimes I still do.

I'm still fighting  a battle in my mind but my god, I'm not backing down any time soon.

I haven't even come out as bi to George and Martha yet, but I don't plan on it either.

Not after what happened last time.
I've learned.
I'm not a god damn idiot.

Sure, Martha and George are different right? But that doesn't mean their views on LGBTQ+ are.

I want to tell John about the post traumatic stress, but I know for a fact he'll look at me different.

To be honest, I think he already does after having that depression discussion.
I'm glad we had that.
It helped my self esteem ever so slightly and I'm forever in debt to him for helping me with something I thought was impossible.

I just have to remember to not fall back into the bad habits. I've been clean for a whole year now, and it's going to stay that way.

Actually no, it's going to change as the years go by because I'm not going to do any of that anymore.

It'll go to two years clean,
then three,
then four and
soon the scars will fade.

The mental ones won't.

"Hey Alec? How are you feeling?" George asked.

"I'm fin- Good. I'm good."
I told him, a small smile on my face.

I'm trying my best.
He smiled warmly.

"I'm very glad to here that. You're really turning yourself around and Martha and I are extremely proud of you." He told me.

"T-thanks." I said quietly.

Proud?
Of me?

There was a warm feeling in the bottom in my stomach and I'm not going to lie, I loved it.

Nobody has been proud of me in a long time.

"So, you're birthday is coming up. Do you have any plans?" He asked me.

Bitch what.
You can have plans on your birthday? What the fuck?

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Have you never done anything for your birthday?"

Well Yeah.
But most of it involved getting the shit beaten out of me.

But when I was with my mum and brother we just did...
nothing.

And my mum would just give a smile filled with pity. God, I'd give anything in the world to bring her back.

She was so beautiful and nice and she didn't deserve what happened to her. She was too good for this world.
Too good for me.
Too good for anyone.

I slowly shook my head and said,
"Not exactly.."

George sighed.
"Your other foster parents suck."
He muttered.

"It was for my own go- You're right. They suck." I said.

George pulled into the driveway. "You're doing great son."