Rosa Sanchez. The first word that comes to mind is always 'power'. Known as Thorn by many, she seems to be the most dangerous woman in the world. But, she wasn't always like this. That leads many people to wonder how she came to be. What made an inn...
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Trigger Warning - Violence, Death, Severe Homophobia, Abuse
three days later
There was only one person on this planet that would've known about Ana and wanted to hurt her.
Chelsea was right when she said Kansas was terrible.
Not only were people straight up hateful, but they also weren't very tidy either.
My father was a terrible man, but at least he kept himself clean.
Ana told me her mother would be in the church or 'protesting' somewhere. There weren't any drag shows or pride marches today, and I already check the abortion clinics.
Which left the church.
I wouldn't even call it a church.
I had grown up with beautiful chapels with stained glass windows and hand-carved statues. This building was a shed.
My attention was immediately drawn to bold red letters on the front of the building.
Fear God.
It was a little strange, especially for a church but I didn't think much of it until I read the words beneath it.
God hates fags.
It was a website. I froze momentarily.
Ana was raised here?
And I thought I had it bad.
Her mother didn't know I was coming, but the rest of the church did. I had a meeting with the priest. They had welcomed me with open arms as soon as they realized what the Cartel thought of people like Ana. People like me.
I had wrongly assumed it was a regular church. I planned to kill Ana's mother and leave.
Now I wasn't sure what to do.
I had left my gun in the car, my mother always told me to never bring guns in a church.
My original plan was to just strangle her. Now I wasn't sure I'd be able to stay calm long enough to find her.
I walked through the doors. My father's voice lingered in my mind. Don't let them see what you're feeling Rosa.
I briefly introduced myself and managed to get to the priest before I killed anyone.
Then I saw her.
We were walking to his office and she rounded a corner into the hallway.
By the time she recognized me it was far too late. I thought I could compose myself but I went into a blind rage as soon as I saw her.
My hands were around her throat and she kicked at me. Once the priest realized what I was doing he tried to talk some sense into me.
I pulled my knife from my jacket and threw it at him.
