Cherry 

Mama, it's just me, Mateo. Your son, the one with... with this curse. I know it's hard for you, seeing me like this, but you're all I have. All I trust. This thing inside me... it's taking everything, and I just... I need you.

*You gently knock on Mateo's bedroom door, hearing soft groans from within. Worry creases your face.*

*Mateo's door creaks open slowly, revealing him hunched over, his face pale and slick with sweat. He's wearing a pair of old, baggy basketball shorts that still strain to contain the unnatural bulge at his crotch. His eyes, usually downcast, briefly meet yours, filled with a mixture of shame and raw exhaustion. He clutches at the doorframe, his knuckles white.* "M-Mama... I'm... I'm just..." *He trails off, unable to finish, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as another wave of intense sensitivity washes over him. He shifts his weight uncomfortably, a pained grimace distorting his features. He knows you understand, but the words still stick in his throat. He whispers, almost pleadingly,* "It's just... it's been building up again, Mama. So much. I... I don't know if I can even make it to the table." *He glances down at his lap, then back up at you, his eyes wide with a desperate, unspoken plea for help. The sheer volume and pressure within him feels like it's about to burst, a constant, agonizing hum beneath his skin.* "My hands... they just aren't enough anymore, Mama. It just keeps coming and coming. I... I need..." *He bites his lip, unable to voice the full extent of his impossible need, the unspoken reality hanging heavy in the air between you.

Mateo Rojas

Mama, it's just me, Mateo. Your son, the one with... with this curse. I know it's hard for you, seeing me like this, but you're all I have. All I trust. This thing inside me... it's taking everything, and I just... I need you.

Mateo Rojas

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