...And The Beast

The Worst

"My mom and dad..." I started, sitting on Zane's bed, as she moved to sit in front of me, on the floor, like a child. She earned a slight smile from me but it didn't last long.

"My parents raised supremely religious kids." I continued. "Themselves, they met at Camp Lord Light or Camp Lords Love or something to that effect. My entire childhood was strictly, rigorously God oriented. Baptisms and Christenings every time a baby was born. While most kids had 5 days of school, we practically had 6 because of Sunday classes. Bible study was factored into our homework hours. I'm telling you all this for a reason. My entire life was built and bent for the Bible. My family was..."

I took a deep breath and swallowed. I felt a hand on my knee and looked down to Zane who was looking right back up, encouragingly.

"Like most Christians," I went on. "Marriage was the most sanctified thing my parents believed they could've done together and divorce was absolutely not a concept to ever be discussed. Which is why my mother's betrayal was completely unexpected.
The day it happened was so...average. It was like August and my dad had taken Brandon and I to the park. But Brandon was complaining about the heat. So much. He just kept going.....we went home about 15 minutes after we left the house. Which is how it happened I guess.... You know that weird revelation after something happens where it dawns on you that the thing was sort of monumental? At 7 years old, I had no idea what I was hearing echo through my house was my mothers moans. I know that now but I didn't then."

I took another deep breath then looked Zane straight in her eyes. "My mother cheated on my father with an dyke named Sky."

Zane's mouth fell into a small 'o' shape as the room filled with silence.

"That day, Sky beat the ever loving hell out of my dad." I kept talking, the words flooding now. "My mom had been having a gay affair for 4 years and Sky hated my father. Sky beat the hell out of my dad and then my dad, as soon as Sky left, beat my mother literally to death. With a candlestick. While Brandon and I stood there. To death. He killed her. Then, after kissing us both on our foreheads and reminding us to live our lives in the name of our Lord and Savior, my dad shot himself in between his eyes."

"Christ." Zane breathed, her eyes closed.

"I was 7. And Brandon was 9. What do two children do with their dead parents in front of them? What were we supposed to do? We were kids." I paused as Zane raised her hand to my face and dragged a finger across it, bringing moisture with her. I had no idea when I started crying but now I was and I didn't intend to stop.

"Sky came back to our house 4 days later to two unbathed, unclean kids living off of canned food and toast while two corpses just decayed on the floor. Our grandparents, my dad's parents, were given custody of us and they were even more bible thumping than Mommy and Daddy. I couldn't wear jeans or pants or anything really except house and nightgowns. And I couldn't really do anything except cook and clean all day. Brandon was completely submerged in 'manly' behavior by my grandfather. The next time I saw Sky, I was 14. And the night I saw her, she was selling Brandon drugs."

"Izzy." Zane interrupted. "You do not have to keep going."

"Let me. I'm fine." I promised. "I tried to stop it for a long time. But I couldn't and in the process of trying, I pissed Sky the hell off. She decided since I wanted to be grown....Sky was my first and last pimp. For 3 years, she kept my brother high and me...open. My grandparents found out when I was 17 and I haven't seen them since. They told me I was a harlot and disowned me and Brandon. After that we....ran. From our hometown, our native state, away from Sky. That's how we ended up here. Then we realized...or I realized, being away from Sky didn't take us away from Sky. Brandon now knew exactly how to make himself feel better if he was stressed and I now knew exactly how to make money if I was broke. We would be what she wanted whether we wanted to or not."

I suddenly ran out of words and felt substantially less heavy. The house settled quietly after I stopped talking. All that could be heard was my quiet, accepted crying and Zane's breathing. Then suddenly, she stood, climbed behind me on the bed and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

"You don't have to." she said, quietly.

Without considering anything at all, I tilt my head back on her shoulder, eyes closed as she held me.

"I'm so sorry, Isabella." she whispered. I nodded and looked straight at the side of her face.

"Don't be." I replied.

We got quiet again. I replayed everything I'd just spilled to this woman. This stranger. Drug dealer. Murderer. This homo.

That I loved.

I sighed, resigning to the fact. I loved Zane and I couldn't argue about it anymore. I didn't know what my sexuality was or what it meant to my faith. But I knew I loved Zane.
I loved Zane.

"Isabella, can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Yes."

She turned to look me dead in my face. "I'm not Sky. I'm not gonna break you and Brandon down anymore than I have and I am so sorry for everything I've already done. You don't have to be like this. I don't want anything that would make you unhappy to be apart of this lifestyle we might live."

I nodded. "Okay. Zane, can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Are we....together?" I blushed, embarrassed by the schoolgirlish format.

She chuckled lightly before responding, the sound vibrating against my back from her chest. "Isabella?"

"Mm?"

"I love you."

"Zane. "

"Mm?"

"I love you too."

We fell back into silence before she broke it one last time, completely disrupting the mood with her words.

"Izzy?"

"Yes Zane?"

"Can I tell you one more thing?"

"Yes Zane."

"I think I know Sky."

My eyes shot open.