Even Satan used to be an Angel | A Ghost Fanfiction

1. My parents suck

''So, mister Meyer, have you ever made one of your sexual fantasies come true?'' My therapist, Dr Smith asked, while she gave me a stern look through her half-round glasses.

What a weird question to ask a 16 year old, I thought. I nervously pulled the sleeves of my black hoodie down. ''No, and you can call me Roy by the way.''

Dr Smith quickly wrote something down in the little notepad that she was holding. ''And your parents do not know that you're here?'' ''That's correct, I opened up to my pastor and he brought me here.'' I said, while looking at the birds out of the window of her office. Anything so that I didn't have to look through her piercing eyes.

''And do you agree that you have to change?''

That question caused a silence in Dr Smith's office, the only sound being her clock ticking. The time was going way too slow.

''I don't know what, but something has to change. I haven't felt okay my entire life, not well, not.... happy? Other teens all have something that makes them happy, they have friends, hobbies, but I don't.'' Tears started to fill up my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away. I didn't want  to cry in front of a random woman I've never met before. ''Well, actually, there is one thing that I really, really like,'' I continued. ''I love fashion, I know that you can't really see it because I'm only wearing simple black clothes like always, but that is because I don't want my parents to know who I really am. I don't want to disappoint them. I-I think there's something wrong with me.''

Dr Smith smiled a little at me. ''Well isn't that obvious, love? Of course there is something wrong with you. Boys aren't supposed to like boys! I don't know what caused this, maybe a demon of some kind. But don't worry, we are going to fix you!''

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An hour later I stepped out of her office. Never. Again. When I got home, my little sister Abby yelled my name from her room upstairs. My parents, Abby, and I live in a big white house in the outskirts of Greenhoven, a city next to Hillburg. My parents are pretty rich from the money they made being dentists on the business days. On Saturday they rest and on Sunday we visit the Christian church in Greenhoven.

''What is it?'' I asked Abby as soon as I entered her room. There were a lot of pink things in Abby's room, her walls, her guitar, hell, even her bed was pink. I knew that pink wasn't Abby's favorite color, it's not like she hates it, but she would have preferred to have a green room. She says green is her favorite color because it made her think of all the things she likes. That includes the fields on the hills near our house, or the woods near Hillburg. She also told me once that the color green made her think of me, because it was a "positive color", according to her. Pink was alright, but we both knew that mom and dad only picked that color for her room because of their old-fashioned thinking pattern, that was: "boys like blue and girls like pink".

Abby was sitting behind her desk, on which was a sewing machine. ''I wanted to make a bag, but I don't know which needle to use for this fabric!'' I leaned over to take a look at the fabric she was working with. ''You should use this needle for that fabric, because that fabric is quite thick. But very good and sturdy for a bag. I'm proud of you, Abby.'' I said, while I picked up one of the needles on her desk and handed it to her.

''Thank you, Roy. I hope that I will be able to be just as good at sewing one day as you are right now.'' Before I could reply, mom came into Abby's room. ''Since when are you good at sewing, Roy?'' She asked me. I started to laugh nervously while I looked at Abby, hoping she would pick up on the hint. And luckily she did. ''Oh we were just joking mom! Of course Roy can't sew things. Why would he? Sewing isn't a thing boys do!'' Mom smiled, ''but of course they don't! They play football. Speaking of which, how was your training yesterday, honey?''

I had never been good at telling lies, until I started lying about football practice. Mom and dad wanted me to be like the other boys, and I didn't want to disappoint them, so I tried out for the football team at school. I really tried, and I like football, but they didn't want me on the team. I knew it had nothing to do with my atlethic skills, or with the way my body is build. Sure, I might be skinny but I am tall so I can run really fast if I have to. The only reason I got rejected from the team was because I am a social outcast. They know that I am not like them. So from that point on, I lied about going to football training every week. Abby is the only one who knows. And I suspect she also knows that I'm gay, but I'm not sure, we've never talked about it.

''ROY MEYER! WHAT IS THIS?'' My dad's voice echoed through the hall before I could answer mom's question about my non-existent football training. I heard dad's footsteps coming closer every second, and every second I got more and more scared of what he was going to say. What did I do this time?

My dad stood next to mom in Abby's doorway. ''We need to talk.'' He said, with an angry tone in his voice. ''Why? What is it, dad?'' ''Your sexuality.'' He replied. My heart sank when those words came out of his mouth. This must be a nightmare, right? But before I had any more time to think he opened his mouth again to say something.

''I called your school's football coach to ask a schedule of your team's matches so I could support you. He told me that you weren't on the team. So I got concerned because I didn't know where you were hanging out when the team has to train. I read your diary, and now I know everything. I didn't raise someone like you, get out of my house, now.''

''But he can't change who he is!'' Abby protested, but it didn't seem to work. ''Did I stutter?'' Dad asked. ''It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. Now, Roy, I give you 5 minutes to grab your stuff and then you'll have to get out of my house. Do you understand?'' Not wanting to cause any more drama, I nodded. ''Yes dad.''

5 minutes later I stood outside with nothing but my backpack. I had no money, no family or friends that could help me, no safe place to sleep, I had nothing. Deep down I've always known that the truth was going to come out some day. I couldn't keep pretending to be someone else forever. But it was easier to pretend to be someone else because I've never known who I truly am.

What the hell was I going to do?