Have Faith: Life and Times of a Glorious Asshole

A Trip Down Memory Lane Curtesy of the Resident Gay Guy

"Eric and Vanessa were the ones who started this." Thomas began. "All I know is they grew up in a family of hunters. Their parents, their grandparents, their great grandparents...they all hunted monsters. So, about a year ago, their family was called on a trip. Their father, their mother, and, as usual, they also tagged along. They were a bit different back then."

"How so?" I asked, slightly distracted as I eyed a man's plate of food a few tables away from us.
Some kind of frosting covered pastry.
I totally had to get me some of that shit.

Thomas plowed on with his story, unbeknownst to my sudden distraction. I started trying to pay attention again. "-and Eric was just a lot more...outgoing. You know, he actually was pretty mischievous and outgoing as a kid. At least that's how Vanessa explained it."

'I missed the bit of information about Vanessa. Damnit. Screw you plate of delicious looking food!' I thought to myself, trying to focus more intently on Thomas' recollection.

"So, they joined their parents on this hunting trip. Typical vampire take-down. It was going fine. Until, they stumbled upon the information there was a nest. They commanded that Eric and Vanessa stay in a motel room as they went out to take care of the vampires. But, Eric decided to follow them." His face was full of concern and he looked at the ground.
"He took Vanessa and the two followed their parents to the nest. They could see signs of a struggle and Eric leapt out to help but, that only drew more vampires to the scene. Vanessa was right behind him and their parents soon found themselves trying to defend the two."

'Hm. Seems like even Goody-two-shoes have impulsive sides. Or, had impulsive sides.' I thought, trying to stop my stomach from inappropriately growling.

I was hungry.

Sue me.

At least I attempted to listen to the story.

"Long story short, they had watched their parents get ripped apart from the vampires and narrowly escaped themselves. Neither of them were the same after that. Vanessa was 14 and Eric was 16. Vanessa hasn't spoken a word since she watched her parents die. She went mute. As I said before, she was quite talkative and well, this transformed her and made her silent. She has panic attacks and she can't bring herself to speak. It's almost as if she's in some state of shock. And Eric? He-"

"He sleeps around and does drugs." I interjected.
"How did you-?" Thomas stared at me.
"I'm not an idiot. He has a shit load of pills and smells like smoke yet he doesn't own cigarettes. And there's a bunch of girls that constantly leave the house when we come back." I said.

Yeah, unlike most female main characters in fiction novels, I actually have a brain.

Suck my metaphorical dick, teen writers.

Thomas nodded. "You're right." He said.

Of course I was. As I said before, I have a fucking brain. And eyes. And common sense.

"Now," I began, raising a brow at him. "Now that we're through with their sob story, what's with your letters?" I asked.

Thomas regarded me silently.

He picked at his long nails.

He wrung his wrists.

He ran his hands through his hair.

Then he spoke.

"They're to my grandmother." He stated. "My mother is in a psych ward. My father abandoned us when I was a baby and she went crazy. She had some major abandonment issues and my father leaving was what pushed her over the edge. She was paranoid too. Anxiety, depression, loads of stuff. So, I ended up in the care of my grandmother. A strong, Mormon Christian woman."

I myself am Christian, but I know what assholes quite a few people can be to the gay community. I gestured for him to continue.

"So, I stayed in the closet for years on end. She tried to set me up with girls, dress me in more masculine clothes. When I came to the realization that I was both gay and gender fluid, I freaked." He sighed.
"I didn't know what she would do if I came out to her. So, I ran away." He shook his head.
"I was 13. For three years I worked in a...not so pleasant occupation. And one day, when I had just turned 17, I ran into a monster myself. It was then I met Eric. He saved me." He chuckled nervously and ran his hand up to scratch the back of his neck.
"I tried to...pay him back for saving me but he wouldn't have it. Instead, he offered me a place to live. Without having to take my clothes off for a dime. And, I agreed." The boy looked out the window.
"I still debate whether or not I should contact my grandmother. That's why I wrote those letters. But, I'm too nervous to send them. I don't want her memories of me as her perfect, beautiful, straight, normal boy to be ruined by the truth. I'm afraid that I'll take away whatever I have her to hold on to." He sighed.
"But that's enough about me. Where're your parents?" He asked

I stayed silent before finally answering. "Dead." I said simply.

"How?" He asked. "Was it anything super-"

I scowled slightly. "No. My parents were not murdered by monsters. I didn't know monsters existed until last week. My parents were murdered." I snapped slightly.
"By who?" He asked.
Boy, the kid was curious.

"By people." I answered.

And with that, I stood up, excused myself, and left the café without another word before proceeding to go on a joyride in a black Ford Mustang GT-500.
That I stole.
To clear my head.

Because, that was my version of therapy.