As most of you know, I love to write. I have a tonne of stories. I think it's high time for those stories to get some limelight. I wrote this a couple months back, never showed to anyone, but here you go! For your reading pleasure! Enjoy :)
The day started out as any other. My mom was quietly crying while she cleaned up the broken plates. My dad was reading the news with a stern look on his face. Our family was never like this. It all happened when my younger brother passed away six months ago. We all dealt with the situation differently. My mom became frail and lost the joy in her eyes. My dad became cold and bitter, started relying on alcohol a lot. I, on the other hand, took everything calmly, not for my sake but for the sake of my parents. Just pretended nothing was wrong and kept on going about with life.
It was six months ago, my brother was shot in the streets. When they caught the murderer, he said that he shot him because he thought he was gay. I wanted to tear his head off when he pleaded guilty. My brother was in fact gay; he didn’t openly admit in fear of discrimination but he trusted me enough to share his secret with me. It came to a shock to the whole city. My brother was dubbed the first discriminatory homicide of the city ever although my parents insisted that their son was not gay.
That night, I overheard the cops knocking at our door. I knew it was the cops from the red and blue headlights flashing through my window. I was supposed to be asleep but I was working late typing up an essay I had to submit the next day. Incidentally, I was reading up on news through the internet. The headline read “First Homicide in the History of our City.” My parents were fast asleep when the doorbell went off. My stomach dropped and I feared the worst. My eyes started to tear when my parents got up and disarmed the alarm. I loved my brother with all my heart, regardless of his sexuality. He was looking forward in entering high school. It’s already been six months, and things had gotten worse. I fear that things will not get any better soon.
“Catherine!” Along with my dad’s new attitude, he didn’t express love as much as he used to. He was a new man. “You dropped another plate? God damn it! That’s the fifth one this week! We’re running out of plates!” My mother just sobbed quietly and whispered a sorry through her tears. I ignored both of them and ran towards the door. I hated dealing with my parents. I didn’t want to confront them. They think they’re the one taking things calmly and I’m the one who had problems dealing with the issue.
“Jane!” Damn, my father caught me running out the door. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m going to my friend’s house.” I bit my lip as I told him another lie. I’ve learned to despise him in the six months that passed by. He’s always complaining and yet he’s never shown a single emotion for his lost son, like he never had one.
“What for?” I replied with another lie. I told him that I was heading over to Chris’ house to study for an exam. It wasn’t that much of a lie, it was partially truthful. I was going to a friend’s house, and I did have a university entrance exam coming up. What they didn’t know is that Chris’ full name was Christopher. I see it as my parent’s fault for assuming that he was a she. Chris’ house was only a drive away and it didn’t take long for us to start our usual activity. I needed a way to release stress and Chris had always been my best friend. He wasn’t really the friend that any parents would approve. He was a rebel to the bone. A high school drop-out that became your average thug. He helped me through the hard time that I went through. No one else but him understood me because he went through the exact same thing with his twin brother. We would always finish our meeting with a cigarette. I had become addicted to our routine. We didn’t let our routine affect our friendship. We were still friends, the best even. The way I saw it, we were helping each other. I was helping feed his needs and he was helping me release stress. After our “study” session, I headed back home.
“It’s your fault!” I came home to hear my dad screaming at my mom. “Catherine, you always told him that the world is beautiful and that good people are taken care of by God. Where’s your God now?! He didn’t save him did he!? Did he!?” I opened the door and saw my dad holding my mom’s wrist. My mom’s cheek was red, and when she saw me open the door, she tried covering it. I reacted quickly, pushing my dad off of her. He fell and broke our coffee table.
“What the hell are you doing? That’s your wife! Why did you hit her?” I couldn’t help but scream at him. How does one react after seeing one’s mom struck? My mom tried to defend him but I couldn’t take it anymore. We started swearing at each other and blaming that our beloved family member died because of something the other did. My dad said that I was pampering him too much and my mom was too protective. I yelled something along the lines of how he was never there for him so it was his fault that his never acted boyish. I revealed the secret my brother had brought to his grave and my parents were in shock. At this point, my mom did not hide her tears, and my dad started crying too. In my eighteen years, I have never once seen my father cry.
“The only reason you’re around is because your mother and I couldn’t afford an abortion.” My father retaliated, and I couldn’t move. I didn’t know how to react. I grabbed my keys and headed to Chris’ house with hate and rage in my mind.
I drove to Chris’ but he wasn’t home. He usually worked night shifts at whatever odd jobs his skills would be useful for. I know my parents wouldn’t report me missing. After telling them that their beloved son was gay must’ve hurt their ego. When I arrived at Chris’, I found his hidden key. He left for me if I ever needed to run away. I had told him that one day I would run away from my breaking family. That conversation a month ago proved to be useful. When I woke up in the morning, I showered and changed clothes. I had more than enough clothes at his place from previous study sessions. His place was practically my second home. Right now, it was home. My car was parked at his driveway, so he’ll probably find out that I did spend the night over. I decided to make him breakfast, as he often complained that he always comes home to an empty house.
I heard a car pull into the driveway. I placed the eggs and bacon onto a serving plate and smiled at the door, waiting for him to come through. He opened the door and when he saw me, his smile made me forget everything. Closing the door behind him, he walked up to me and kissed me good morning. He dropped his stuff and placed the morning newspaper on the table.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you here.” He was more than happy to see me as he hugged me and he held me tight. In the months we were using one another, he had never held me like that. I felt like I had a family again. “I love you, I always have. I will always take care of you.” Those words were surprising but it felt good to hear them from someone who meant it. I replied with a similar statement. I heard him holding back tears and I wondered what could’ve made someone like Chris cry. I looked at the paper he brought in. Tears started flowing from my eyes. The headline read, “Mother Joins Gay Son in Death, Daughter missing.”
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