The Religious & The Damaged

30

Joseph

  I press my back against the door, and a shaky breath slips from my lips and it's followed by another, then another.

  Did I seriously kiss him? I can't believe this—it must be a dream, right?

  I feel sick.

  I place a hand over my chest and I take deep breaths.

  It's not the end of the world—he won't find out.

  It's okay.

  I take more deep breaths, and my heart settles into a normal rhythm. I wipe a hand down my face as I let out a shaky breath.

  I take out my phone and call Kelsey, and I walk to the stairs. She answers.

  "Hey, what's up?"

  "Kel, I'm freaking out. I kissed Elias."

  "What?"

  "I just had an impulse and went for it-"

  "And?"

  "And now we're dating.. I'm pretty sure."

  "Pretty sure?"

  I throw my head in my hand and say, "We didn't really say it."

  She audibly laughs. "You're not very good at this."

  "Shut up. I know."

  "I'm happy for you, Seph."

  I smile. "Thanks, Kel."

  After I get off the phone with Kelsey, I hear the jiggle of my doorknob, and my heart drops as I quickly shove my phone under my pillow. The door opens.

  My father comes in and looks at me.

  I gulp nervously as the thought lingers in my mind that he somehow knew of my sinful act.

  He walks over to me, and my fear grows, but it disintegrates when he reaches out to my hair and says, "Your roots are coming in." I don't speak. He hums. "Come on."

  I stand almost instinctively and follow my father out of the room and into the bathroom.

  He snaps his finger at the tub, and I sit down on the edge of it.

  As he does my hair, his touch is harsh and impatient—it burns my scalp, but I don't dare set my father off and tell him.

  In fact, I indulge in the pain.

  And he washes the bleach out.

  He leaves the bathroom after that, and I look up at myself in the mirror as my hair sorta falls flat.

  I press my hand against my head and wince at the stinging sensation—my eyes shut tight briefly, and I can't help but enjoy it, but it's always been that way.

  I've always indulged in pain, but when my father hits me, it's a different kind of pain—it's sickening. It's overwhelming.

  I turn away and leave to my bedroom. I sit on my bed and look over at the sound of my phone buzzing beneath my pillow.

  I take it out and see a few messages from Elias.

  hey! 8:55pm.

  how do you feel after what happened? 8:55pm.

  are you okay? 9:48pm.