Between Faith and Love

A new beginning ahead

The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden,March sat by the window, staring out at the familiar streets of her small town. To anyone watching, she looked like any other girl—seventeen, has soft, chestnut-brown hair that falls just past her shoulders, often left slightly messy in natural waves. Her almond-shaped eyes are a striking forest green, capturing the light with hints of brightness. She has a fair complexion with a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose, giving her a youthful appearance. March has a gentle smile that radiates warmth and approachability, and her style tends to be casual and comfortable, often favoring cozy sweaters and well-worn jeans,
thoughtful, quiet—but beneath her calm exterior, a storm had been brewing for years. She had always known she was different, even before she had the words to explain it. While girls at her age gushed about boys, March felt something else, something unspoken, something she kept locked away.

That morning, she packed her bags in quiet determination, ready to leave for her aunt's house in a town far from everything she knew. As she zipped the last suitcase shut, the weight of her present hung heavy in the air—this wasn’t just a visit, it was an escape, a chance to start over where no one knew her past or the secrets she’d been carrying.

(Knock, knock)

Her mother appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame, eyes weary and voice soft. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, though the weight in her words hinted at something deeper. The past few months had worn her down—the divorce had drained her of the light she used to carry.

March, sitting on the edge of her bed, looked up and shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly twisting the strap of her backpack. “Yeah, I guess,” she said, her tone flat, as if this was just another day, another routine. She could see the sadness in her mother’s eyes but didn’t have the energy to reach for it, to comfort or be comforted. Her world felt distant from the one her mother was trying to hold together, and leaving for her aunt's house felt more like an escape than anything else.

The drive felt endless, the landscape blurring by as March stared out the window, lost in her thoughts. When they finally arrived at her aunt’s house, a modest two-story home with a garden full of bright flowers, a familiar sense of unease settled in her stomach. She had always known her aunt was devoutly Christian, with a house full of religious symbols and a routine that revolved around church activities. This would be a different world, one where she would have to tread carefully, especially with her truth hanging in the balance.

As March stepped inside, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, and her aunt greeted her with a warm hug, oblivious to the storm brewing within her niece. “I’m so glad you’re here, sweetie,” her aunt said with genuine affection. March forced a smile, already anticipating the conversations about faith and love that would inevitably arise.

Later that day, as she prepared to say goodbye to her mother, March felt a tightness in her chest. They stood in the driveway, her mother’s eyes glistening with unshed tears, the weight of their recent struggles hanging between them like a thick fog. “I’ll be okay,” March said, trying to sound reassuring, though she felt anything but.

Her mother nodded slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I love you, March. Remember that, okay?”

March simply replied, “Yeah, I know,” keeping her voice steady, but inside, she wrestled with a mix of emotions she couldn’t articulate. She stepped back, feeling the finality of the moment, knowing this departure would change everything, even if she didn’t fully understand how. As she watched her mother drive away, March turned towards the house, ready to face whatever awaited her inside, even if it meant hiding her true self beneath a facade of indifference.