Stitching Velvet : A Love Story To The Universe

Chapter 4

        Christian sat on the couch hands tucked in between his legs trying to disappear. He could hear bits of his parents shouting coming in through the kitchen.

"...didn't raise him this way..."

"...that girl with the blue hair...pink now.."

"..What would they think..."

"...what do we do now.."

"... those people...."

        Christian saw his dad walk through the living room towards the kitchen to go to his room. He got up and followed despite his mother, Mary Ann Cross's  "sit down, Christian." He watched as his dad ripped the drawings and the coloring book page from the wall. He watched as he raised the mattress, retrieving Christian's porn. Christian turned to stone and jello at once. 

        He wasn't sure what he was expcting, but his dad took the art and the porn and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him leaving Christian to his own thoughts. He couldn't look his son in the eye. If you've been in the situation Christian's in, I'm sorry. If not, I don't know if you've ever had your parents find your porn when you were a teenager, this is a bit like that except  with your existince at stake. 

        A few hours passed, in which he had nothing to do but read and worry. He tried to sleep. He began to crying into his pillow so he flipped it. HIs mother came in and sat on his bed. He could see her shadow in the door frame before she came in. His old mother. So different than Velvet's. He was meticulously planned and prayed for for years, unlike Velvet and all of her sisters who he's pretty sure just appeared out of nowhere, one after the other,  on Amy's doorstep. Mary Anne was like a Betty Crocker, the Perfect Christian Housewife, she had wanted children so very badly. She was told she could never have kids.  Christian was the miricle baby. How is it that he could hate himself and want to be dead? How is this fair?

        She touched his shoulder. "Christian honey, your father and I have called a friend of ours. You know Pastor Michael." 

He said nothing. 

        "He knows people who've struggled with what you're struggling with. He had a sister that way. We want you to know that you have a choice. Pastor Micael runs House Of God, a special camp, and there still is time to send you there and be home in time for school, or not, however long it takes. We love you sweetie."

        They hadn't sent him to summer camp when he was a kid and like hell they were going to send him to one now. He nodded, he felt himself choking. 

        "Is there anything else you want to say," his mother continued, "I'm sorry? I love you? Anything? Are you even listening to me?" 

He said nothing.

"Well, you'll be leaving tommorow around noon, so you might as well pack your bags now if your going to sleep in until 10:30 again like you do every god damn morning. Say your prayers and go to bed." 

        He said nothing and Mary Ann left while he was still trying to process what was happening. It took him less than a minute to decide he'd rather die than go to that camp, where he's sure he would die anyway.

       It was time to go to Velvet, they were going to leave this town tonight. 

        He got out of bed and got out his red backpack that he'd used all of freshman and sophmore year. It was covered in pins and tearing at the seams. He put in 4 C.D's, black nail polish, a copy each of the books Weetzie Bat and The Wizard of Oz, $128 dollars in cash that he had earned from mowing lawns, and black clothes. He decided now that he would only wear black. He put his backpack on, looked in the mirror, and whispered, "I'm Christian Fucking Cross."        

        He walked by his parent's room and looked at them sleeping. They were on opposite ends of the bed, his father was snoring and they both were frowning. Christian hoped to find a real kind of love one day. He went out the screen door, closing it so he wouldn't make a sound. He thought "I want that to be the last time I'm ever in the house."  He realized he forgot something.

        He he went back in. He forgot to write a note. He went to the kitchen and got out a recipe card and a pen. 

        "sorry. I'm trying not to be, though." was all it said. 

He stepped off into the night to go walk to Velvet's trailor.