Light mention of Interphobia
Consider this a light thanks for 40k downloads <3
Avon was fourteen when it started. His mom and sister began coming around less and less often. He noticed it before anyone ever said anything. He missed them.
Sometimes his dad would get his mind off it…in his own way.
He would take Avon out hunting in the woods often. Even though Avon wanted to believe it was because his dad truly cared, it only started after they found out he was intersex a few years back. His father figured that doing something “masculine” would somehow change the way he was born. Either way, Avon slowly got used to hunting, despite his father’s brutal and emotionally distant way of handling it. Sometimes… Avon handled things the same way.
His father’s emotionally distant and blunt view of the world rubbed off on him often. Sometimes it blurred—what started as opinions slowly turned into undeniable truths. And even though Avon believed he was beginning to see the world the same way his dad did, that one afternoon changed everything.
It was just near sunset, orange and yellow bleeding through the sky and into the forest near the creek. Avon’s dad told him to go search for a target. Maybe a deer. A bunny. Anything.
So Avon held his rifle and walked.
He walked until the sound of the creek—usually steady, usually familiar—sounded… off. Like something was blocking its usual rhythm. Something that disrupted the comfort he’d grown used to. He scanned the area until he saw it in the distance.
At first, he jumped and stumbled back.
The figure looked tall. Too tall. His mind immediately jumped to every piece of folklore he’d ever heard. For a moment, he thought maybe it was all real—and he was ready to say screw hunting and run back to his dad, even if he knew his ass would be chewed out for it.
But as he looked just a little longer, he realized the figure wasn’t tall at all.
A long rope hung from a tree, attached to a body.
Despite the shock, he walked closer. Slowly. It was a teenage girl; she couldn’t have been much older than he was.
Her eyes were shut. Her face was blue and unmoving. The body couldn’t have been there more than a day, he knew that much from the videos his father used to watch back when he was in his cult. The thought made his chest tighten.
Did someone do this to her?
He looked around and noticed her belongings scattered nearby. No… if someone had done this, they would’ve taken them.
Maybe he should tell someone. It wouldn’t be right to leave her there. Maybe the police could help. Maybe it would bring her family some comfort. She looked so sweet.
Sure, his dad was a prick—but Avon still held more humanity than he ever did.
So he stood, grabbed his rifle, and jogged back to where his dad was. He told him what he’d found. His dad reluctantly followed, and Avon pointed up at the body.
His dad barely reacted. He just rolled his eyes.
“Dad… can we take her down?” Avon asked. “It’s probably not best to leave her rotting up there…”
“Avon, leave it there. Nature will do its job.” His dad was already walking away.
“But—can’t we at least call the police or something? They could handle her better, maybe—”
Avon flinched, nearly dropping his rifle.
“We aren’t wasting time over some corpse. If they find it, they find it. Get your ass over here and leave it.”
There was no room for discussion.
Avon tightened his grip on the gun and looked back at the hanging girl one last time. She didn’t deserve to hang there alone. She seemed so sweet. He could have at least—
They finished hunting and went home. Avon changed into a sweater and comfortable pants and locked himself in his room. As the night stretched on, he couldn’t get the girl out of his mind.
He’d always been fascinated with death after getting used to it…thanks to his dad—but this was different. His heart ached as he wondered what her life had been like. What led her to hang there alone. He didn’t want her to be alone. He wanted to help. Somehow.
So he got up. Put on his Converse. Went downstairs.
His dad was passed out in the living room, beer bottles scattered everywhere, the TV still on. Knocked out, as usual. He wouldn’t be up for hours. It was almost midnight, but Avon didn’t care. His curiosity mattered more.
He grabbed his skateboard and his bag and headed toward the woods.
He’d been there so many times that moving through them was easy, but finding her again was harder. It took time. Eventually, his phone flashlight caught her hanging legs. He tilted the light upward and froze.
He stood there in silence.
“I… uh… hi,” he said quietly. “I came back.”
He set his backpack down and pulled out a lantern and a notebook. Once the lantern was on, he pocketed his phone and fidgeted with his hands.
“I should probably… take you down. Like I planned.” He laughed awkwardly, then looked up at the rope. “That’s kind of high… you must’ve really wanted to—” He stopped himself and swallowed.
He opened his bag again and took out a switchblade. He climbed the tree just enough to reach the rope and began cutting through the fibers.
When it finally snapped, her body dropped hard.
Avon gasped and rushed towards her. “Sorry—I didn’t think you’d drop so… roughly…”
He gently propped her against the tree and stood there, staring, biting at his nails, tugging at his sleeves.
“Your things… maybe I can learn more about you from your stuff since… well, you can’t talk.”
He went through her belongings—notebooks, gym clothes, pencil cases. In just fifteen minutes, Avon felt like he knew her more and more.
He picked up one of the notebooks again and read her name.
“Carrie…” He smiled softly. “You’re very intriguing.”
He searched her bag again. “Carrie… do you have a note with you?”
“I’m gonna… touch you, okay?”
He adjusted her carefully and reached into her pocket until he felt a messy, folded piece of paper. He pulled it out, scanned it, and smiled sadly.
His attention returned to her. He took her hand in his.
“My dad didn’t want me helping you, Carrie,” he said quietly. “But I’m glad I came back. To help you. To see you.”
His fingers intertwined with hers.
“I should probably go back before sunrise,” he murmured. “But for now… I just want to stay with you.”
He smiled faintly. “You’re not as alone as you thought you were, Carrie. I’m here. Even if it’s after death.”
He stayed with her for hours—talking, writing about her in his journal, taking photos. Something soft settled in his chest. Something gentle.
It hurt when he finally had to leave.
“I have to go, Carrie,” he whispered. “Don’t be too sad, okay? I’ll….”
He told himself he should call the police. Help her family find peace. But he didn’t want to anymore. If they cared enough, they would have found her. Not him.
“I’ll come back tonight,” he promised.
He gathered his things, rubbed his eyes, then rushed back one last time. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, face flushing as he pulled away.
“I-I’ll see you later, Carrie… stay safe, okay?”
Then he went home…acting like he’d been asleep the whole time. Sure, he was tired but.. it was worth it.
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