Chapter 1
*TW: A scene containing slavery and its horrors*
I want to say I'm disappointed, but I can't.
My mother holds my father back, as he advances toward me, his chest heaving and his hand shaking in anger. His hand hovers in the air as his mouth spits out foul words.
Would he hit me? I wonder. I wanted him to, so I could have a reason to release my pent-up frustration and anger.
"Alexis." My mother yells, her gray hair tied into the perfect bun. "Apologize to your father and get rid of your ridiculous idea."
"I should have gotten rid of you, you salopri. Just you wait. M'ap fe'w bwe san'w." My father warns as he pushes forward, bringing my mother with him.
(A/N: Salopri = filth; M'ap fe'w bwe san'w = I'll make you drink your blood.)
His angry eyes meet my empty ones, and I sigh. I look at the tiny home that was once my prison and my safe place. I turn to my mother who always found faults in me but disregarded everything my father and my brother did.
"M'ale wi, 'Man." I said to her in a soft tone. (A/N: I'm leaving, Ma.)
Her shoulders tense and I pick up my bag.
"Pa bliye pran on parapli." She said without turning toward me. (A/N: Don't forget to get an umbrella.)
I nod and walk out the door, ignoring the umbrellas next to it. I tighten my trembling fingers on the strap of my bag and bite my lips as hot tears run down my face, cooling with the cold rain.
My story was a normal one. I grew up in a church with a conservative mother and hypocritical father who preached the bible with every breath they take.
But like many in our church, my father was a hypocrite. He cheated on my mother with every woman who glanced his ways. It wasn't a secret in our family or in the church. Instead of confronting him, my mother turned to God.
My brother, in turn, was a smoker. It was his way of coping, I guess. He depended on his weed to calm himself down. Instead of confronting him, my mother turned to God.
My mother's behavior made me think that everyone was allowed one sin in my house, so I confess to my mother that I like women. Instead of turning to God, my mother restricted every aspect of my life.
From a young age, I learned that I couldn't make mistakes. While my brother was enjoying his childhood, I had to learn how to cook, clean, and serve my family while being subservient and a provider at the same time. I couldn't even glance at a woman without my mother threatening to kill herself.
The taste of copper enters my mouth and I cried even harder from the pain. My legs carry me to the familiar bridge, where I spent my youth hiding and confessing. I look at the troubled water that listened to my secrets without judging.
I could end it all. A dark thought emerges in my mind. I knew where the weak parts of the rails were. I clench my hands and remove the weak nail that holding the rusty bars in front of me. Before I could push the bars, loud voices and high-pitched laughter interrupted my thoughts.
I stare at the group of teens playing around with their football and laugh at myself. What am I doing? I thought and squat down, hugging my knees.
Before I could critic myself, even more, my phone rings, displaying my brother's name.
"What's up?" I ask and wipe the water off my face, although it didn't help one bit.
YOU ARE READING
Sun Kissed
RomanceAlexis Pierre never had the best of luck. Although both of her parents were in her life, her father was a serial cheater while her mother was a conservative Christian. After 26 years of hiding her sexuality, she decides to come out to her family wh...
