#deaging

The sound of the tall grass catching against your legs, heart thumping in your chest, your breath ragged and loud; you ran as fast as you could, away from the source of your agony. Your body in the flight mode, fleeing from danger, from humiliation, from the sadistic laughter and mockery that was echoing within your mind like the screeching of a thousand hyenas.

Running away from that laughter, running away from humiliation, running away from those malicious grins, running away from the pain, running away, running away...

You had no idea where you were going, you just had to run, run as fast as you could from this nightmare, escape everything. Through the greenery, between the trees, dodging the branches, jumping over logs, the woods hiding you from the rest of the world. Your body knew where it had to go and you found yourself near the river, your legs carried you all the way there from the camp. You'd been there before, with the counselors. Not on your own though.

You panted, trying to catch your breath and fighting away your tears. You weren't going to cry. No, you weren't going to cry. You—

Ah. No matter what, you couldn't control the emotions that came welling up from inside and the tears started filling your vision anyway. Bitter, bitter, lonely, hurt tears; tears that could not be filled with anything else but pain and despair.

You sat down on the log, sniffling and wiping your face, but only shedding more tears. You were completely at a loss, a broken, sad mess.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. You didn't deserve this. Why were things this way?

You kept crying for a while before the tears ran out and you just stayed there, surrounded by trees that gently swayed in the wind and the rushing river.

You'd wanted to spend this summer making friends and having fun... not get bullied by some assholes. It felt like it was going to take an eternity for the camp to be over, and you just wanted your parents to come and get you already. But you knew you had to stick it out for the entire length to get back home and you hated that.

You had no idea how much time had passed before you heard footsteps approaching. Startled, you jumped onto your feet, swiftly turning around and ready to just... punch someone! You were so scared and now also angry and you weren't going to let these bastards torture you any longer!

"Hey! You assholes!" You yelled out, desperate, hurt, and angry. "Don't you fucking dare approach me!"

To your surprise, the footsteps stopped. Then resumed. Tense, fists clenched, you stayed where you were, ready to face the bullies and just straight up fight them. But to your relief, from amongst the greenery appeared a tall figure that you recognized – one of your counselors. Dylan.

"Now that's not a very nice way to greet your favorite counselor, don't you agree, (Y/N)?" Dylan said in a lighthearted tone. Despite being ready to melt from the shame, you knew you weren't in trouble.

"I'm sorry, I thought it was... I didn't know it was you," you said quietly while your face grew red from embarrassment and shame.

Dylan gave you a good look but shrugged it off, "I thought so," he replied. "Relax already, it's no big deal."

He approached you and sat on the log, a smile on his face. Dylan patted the space next to him, inviting you to join.

You kind of knew what was coming – some kind of serious talk and you were likely going to get reprimanded. You knew you weren't in the wrong and none of this was your fault, so you felt annoyed but resigned to your fate. It just wasn't fair that you had to suffer because some jerks just... argh, whatever.

With a heavy sigh you waddled towards him and hauled yourself onto the log, plopping your butt onto it. Despite your apprehension, Dylan didn't look angry or tense at all. He seemed relaxed, just as usual, and exuded the laid back and playful energy that made him one of the most likable counselors. He was like a big brother to you (and to lots of other kids), he had so much charm and was so vibrant and energetic, as though always ready to party, and he always made you feel welcome. The other counselors were all nice in their own way and it wasn't like they were super strict either but Dylan was something special, and you missed his chill vibes when he wasn't around.

"Okay. So," Dylan clapped his hands authoritatively. "Spill the story. I want to hear exactly what led you to running away from the camp."

You cringed at the thought of revealing the truth. It was both embarrassing and seemed pointless. What could Dylan possibly do anyway? Scolding those kids would likely just backfire.

Argh, you hated dealing with this kind of a situation and being put on the spot. Running off and having Dylan come search for you made you feel weak and incompetent. How you wished you could be strong just for once and handle things differently!

With a sting in your eyes and tears threatening to fall again, you fought to suppress them and appear collected and in control of your emotions.

What a mess.

As though reading your mind, Dylan reassured you:

"Hey, you don't need to worry. I'm not gonna do anything that like... compromises you, you know? I won't insert myself into this... conflict, if you don't want me to. I just want to know what happened, is all."

You still weren't too sure but... despite your lingering doubts, you decided to give it a shot. Try opening up to Dylan. You knew he was trustworthy and a safe enough person to share these kinds of things with… even if, frankly, you just wished you could hide away instead of having this kind of conversation.

With slow and hesitant words, you shared the story. How those kids had banded together since the camp began. They teased and provoked you, along with several others. Today's encounter had been particularly intense, leaving you feeling overwhelmed. You felt like you’d reached your breaking point today.

"What exactly did they do?" Dylan pressed gently.

You didn't want to relive the memories, but you reluctantly shared them. It hurt to recall the incident, but it also filled you with anger.

Those kids had offered a truce, claiming they no longer wanted to be enemies. For a brief moment, you actually believed them and hoped for a peaceful summer. How foolish of you. It was all a cruel trick. You should have known better.

You didn't suspect a thing when suddenly, a bucket full of dirt and god knows what else was hurled at you. Luckily, your reflexes kicked in, and you dodged just in time, avoiding the full brunt of the disgusting mess. They didn't think to pour the bucket somewhere from above, simply one of them had snuck up and tried to throw it at you.

Despite that and their poor aim, the prank still left you feeling hurt and humiliated. Those jerks laughed at your reaction, and you were left frozen in shock and anger. It was a horrible situation, even if they had missed the mark. The memory still stung, reminding you how gullible you had been, falling blindly into their false kindness.

In a fit of anger, you yelled at them, but they were completely unfazed. Frustration surged through you, and you instinctively pushed one of them before running away.

You cursed yourself for being such a coward. The situation made you feel so vulnerable. But more than anything, you just wanted to let the tears flow and release the overwhelming emotions building inside you.

Dylan offered you a gentle gesture, patting your shoulder reassuringly. You turned to see his empathetic expression, which only heightened your emotional turmoil.

Tears welled up in your eyes as a mix of anger and humiliation washed over you once more. With an outburst, you exclaimed, "They pranked me! They said they wanted to be friends, but they were lying! It was all a cruel prank, and I ran away!”

Dylan wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, crying into his shirt. He didn't speak, allowing you to release your emotions while softly rubbing your arm.

"There, there..." he comforted softly. There was a moment of silence before he continued. "It's okay, kiddo. It's awful how they treated you. Well... have been treating you. They're real mean, huh?" He paused, sighing before adding, "Hey, I know what it's like. Being bullied and all."

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your gaze.

Dylan chuckled softly, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Yeah, I know, it's hard to imagine with how cool I am, right?"

You chuckled in response, wiping away your tears. Dylan reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, gently holding it to your face. "Blow," he instructed, and you obeyed. He carefully wiped your nose with the handkerchief.

"There you go," Dylan said softly. "Anyway, yeah, I was bullied too. I was a bit different, you know? That sort of thing makes you a target. You stand out in some way and attract unwanted attention. So I get it.”

You looked up at him expectantly, hoping to hear more but Dylan merely squeezed your shoulder in response, giving his reassurance. It didn’t seem like he really was about to delve deeper into the subject. And you weren’t about to press him about it.

…But your curiosity still got the best of you.

“T-tell me more?” You got through your teary hiccups.

Dylan chuckled and shook his head. “No. Sorry, kiddo. It's not something I feel comfortable sharing right now. But hey, maybe someday we can have that conversation when the time is right?”

As your tears subsided and you kept gradually calming down, Dylan continued to hold you in a comforting embrace, allowing you to regain your composure. You became aware of the wet spot on his shirt, but he reassured you, insisting it wasn't a concern.

"Don't worry about it," Dylan said with a sympathetic smile. "Feeling better now?"

You nodded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief. At least someone was on your side! At least someone understood, truly understood you… It was a comfort to have an adult on your side, especially one who seemed to get your situation and empathize with your feelings. Many adults weren't as understanding, making Dylan's support all the more valuable.

"Alright. I assume you're not all that keen on me intervening directly, then?"

You shrugged tiredly and Dylan offered a warm smile, respecting your reluctance.

As he pondered the situation, he proposed, "Well, you know what? How about we brainstorm a solution together, hm? I don't want to make things worse, and I don't want you to keep suffering from this. How does that sound?"

You nodded in agreement, feeling drained from the emotional outburst and all the crying you’ve done. The fatigue was setting in, and the thought of sleep seemed quite appealing. You yawned, signaling your exhaustion.

Dylan hugged you tight for the last time and patted your shoulder before standing up. "Okay, (Y/N), let's go back to the camp,” he suggested. “You look tired, so maybe you could catch a little nap before dinner. And if you have problems again, don’t hesitate to just tell someone, anyone, okay? And you can always come to me. I got your back, kiddo."