I nervously looked up, sniffing. My mom was looking at my dad, who was glaring at me.
"Gay?!" He pretty much shouted, "I didn't raise a goddamn faggot!"
"Richard!" My mom yelled at him, tears in her eyes. I hoped that she was crying because of what my dad had said to me, not because of what I told them.
"Get out of my house!!" My dad yelled at me, standing up. "Get out and don't come back!!"
"Richard, please," my mom begged, standing up. I was frozen where I was sitting.
"I won't let a faggot live under my roof!" He shouted. "Get out!"
I stood, wiping my eyes and trying to look tough. I wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, I bolted to the door, hurriedly pulling it open and running outside.
I ran down the front sidewalk of the New York City townhouse and onto the sidewalk next to the street. I kept running and running, tears spilling down my cheeks. I could faintly hear my mom yelling behind me. I quickly became winded since I was practically bawling my eyes out, but I kept running until I collapsed.
I looked around, not recognizing where I was. It was late at night, so not many people were roaming the streets like they do during the day.
I stood up, still trying to catch my breath. I was still crying hysterically, so of course it didn't really work.
"Hey!" I heard from across the street. I looked over, seeing the silhouette of a woman. She walked across the street and put her hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright? What're you doing out so late? Shouldn't you be home?"
Home. The word stung.
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Forged [1]
Romance"Seth," I said, "you have to get up." Nothing. "Seth," I persisted. His chest rose and fell steadily, telling me he was still asleep. I tapped his arm. He didn't wake up. "Seth, come on," I said, hitting his arm harder. He opened his eyes, looking...