Out: A Short Story (Part 1)
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Out: A Short Story (Part 1)

My fists clenched together so tight the skin on my knuckles formed mountain ranges over my rigid bones.

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Out: A Short Story (Part 1)
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“What the heck is going on in here?”

My body shot up from the living room couch at the sound of my mom’s voice. She’s home? When did she get home? I thought she wasn’t here. My mind raced and my heart pounded in my chest. “Mom, it’s not what you think. We weren’t doing anything!”

“I’m not blind. I know what I saw.” My mom glanced at the girl still sitting on the couch, Claire, saying, “I don’t even know who you are. You should leave.”

Claire looked at me. A dark shadow washed over her face. I could see the fear in her eyes. She didn’t say anything as she scurried out of the room. I heard the front door open and close as she left.

My mom moved to stand in front of me. “You were cuddling with that girl. What was that supposed to mean?”

“We’re just friends. Nothing more,” I stammered. The blood rushed to my face, creating a burning sensation in my cheeks. I could feel the heat on the back of my neck spread up toward my face like it was a disease spreading through my body. I really don’t want her to know. She can’t know.

“Oh, really? That’s not what it looked like to me.” I could sense the tenseness radiating from her body like some kind of mystical force. Anger was a spell she couldn’t come undone from once it cast itself upon her. “It seems like you’re more than friends. Don’t lie to me.”

She’s got me now. What am I going to do? “Mom, please don’t hate me. I really hoped it wouldn’t come out like this.”

My mom stood silent for a moment. She stared at me with eyes dead like a dark void. It seemed as if they would suck up my soul if I looked into them for too long.

“Well, do you have something you want to tell me?” my mom said.

No. I clenched my fists at my sides. I struggled to speak. “I’m… bi,” I stuttered between ragged breaths. A chill ran up my spine, my teeth clenched together, my eyes slammed shut. This is it. This is the end.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’re one of them,” my mom said, shaking her head.

I wanted to say something, anything, but my tongue twisted in my mouth and my lips fastened themselves together, trembling at the corners. I opened my eyes, slowly meeting her gaze. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her lips were tensed, and her eyes filled with rage.

“I could have lived the rest of my life in peace without knowing this. I could have died without knowing this. You’re going to hell, you know that right?”

I winced. Her words pierced my skin like knives. I imagined blood dripping down my arms, splattering on the floor until the life bled out of me. What if I just died right now?

“I don’t want you seeing that girl anymore.”

My fists clenched together so tight the skin on my knuckles formed mountain ranges over my rigid bones. I glanced up toward the doorway where my dad was standing, my eyes pleading for help. He wouldn’t care. He could try to talk some sense into my mom. The second my eyes met his, he looked away. He did nothing.

***

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet and you don’t look very good,” Trevor said to me the next day at school. “Also, your drawing seems a little–” He glanced at my notebook and then looked back at me with concern.

We were sitting across from each other at a table in the library during our lunch break. Our notebooks lay strewn open on the table in front of us. My hand was moving in a furious rage as I sketched an image of a girl lying limp on the ground with cuts on her arms.

I stopped moving. I sat there silent for a moment and stared at the veggie sandwich Trevor held in his hands, trying to avoid eye contact. Then I said, “I need to tell you something.”

“Alright. I’m all ears. What is it?”

I swallowed painfully before speaking. “Something really bad happened last night. My mom saw me cuddling with Claire.”

Trevor coughed, nearly choking on his sandwich, and looked at me with wide eyes. “How? What happened? What did she do?”

“We were sitting on the couch and–I don’t know when my parents got home. I didn’t even know they were home. Of course my mom yelled at me, no surprise there.”

Trevor sighed, deep and slow. “What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t think I can face Claire. What am I going to say if I see her? ‘Sorry, my mom’s a freak,’ or something?”

“That’s a bit overboard.”

“My mom doesn’t want me to see her anymore anyways.” I paused. “I need help. I have my next class with her.”

“Are you afraid she’ll reject you or something? Come on, she’s not like that. I think you’re just overthinking this a little too much.”

“You’re not helping. Can’t you see I’m freaking out right now?”

“Just calm down.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Your parents had no problem accepting you.” I grimaced, crossing my arms over my chest. My blood boiled beneath my skin. Anger seeped through my veins. He didn’t understand. He never would. His life was too perfect: loving parents, a gay sister, two sweet German Shepherds, and enough money to pay for college and grad school. All I had was a mentally unstable mom and a dad too afraid to leave her because he confused her crippling attention with love. I tore my sketch out of my notebook, crumpling the page into a paper ball.

Trevor reached over and took the paper from my hand. “Look, I didn’t choose to have my life be this way, and it’s not my fault you got caught.”

I turned away to stare at the floor. I didn’t want to look at him. Part of me knew he was right, but another part of me was still jealous of his life.

I could feel his lingering gaze on me as I glanced at the clock to check the time. “Lunch is almost over. We should head to class,” I said as I jammed my notebook into my backpack.

Trevor sat motionless in his chair, silently watching me.

I sighed. “I know I shouldn’t push you away,” I said.

Trevor gave me a small smile before I slipped my backpack on and began walking out of the library. As I reached the library’s doors, I turned around to look at Trevor. He unfolded the crumpled up paper that had my sketch on it, using his hands to smooth it out. I smiled lightly to myself. I wish my mom was like him.

I walked to my next class, English, the one class I had with Claire. My body filled with dread as I inched closer to the classroom. My palms began to sweat. I really didn’t know what to say to her. When I reached the classroom, Claire wasn’t there. She didn’t show up to class that day at all. I guess she decided she didn’t want to see me. I slumped down in my seat, staring at the empty chair next to me.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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