Ginny and Noah

Loving Song

"Are you ok?" a woman with a mellow voice murmured into my ear as I slowly began to wake up.
"What happened? My face is burning."
"A man shot you in the face." The woman removed a weathered photo from the pocket of her uniform. "This is the mugshot of the man who shot you last night. Do you recognize him?"
I couldn't see very well so I had to squint to see the person who attempted to murder me. "That's my stepfather. He's the man who shot me."
"Thank God you're in stable condition. He shot directly to your brain but it didn't reach the organ. The bullet was stuck in the frontal bone, so we removed it immediately without any troubles. You are going to have a long scar on your forehead from the surgery and you're only going to 1 1/2 eyebrows, but at least you are alive."
     At that point, I was very confused. How could someone commit such a horrible crime because someone stayed at a birthday party? How could someone try to murder a kid for coming out? How could a man who my mother loved try to kill her only child. This was what happened all because I said I was a skolio. I almost died. And I could smell something in the air that smelled like death. Something that was potent like a skunk's spray, but sweet like orchids.
     I spent four more day in the ER, drawing portraits of my nurses and the views of the New York City from the window in my room. It wasn't until the fifth day that Noah and my mother came to see me. I could see that my mother was utterly shocked and heartbroken that someone she trusted almost killed me, and may have killed Noah and the other boys at the party if the police didn't come at the right time. Noah stood still as if he was a statue, trying to relive the events. And then he remembered that all of this happened on his birthday.
     "Hey," Mom quietly whispered as she rubbed my scalp. "How are you?"
     "I'm doing just great, Mom. I got shot in the face, so I'm not going to two eyebrows, and I'm going to have a long scar on my forehead. And I haven't been able to eat much because I'm having pinching sensations on my jaw."
Noah walked up closer to my bed and handed me a bouquet of beautiful geraniums, arranged into color coordinated groups.
"My mother made it for you," Noah began. "She said she feels really bad for you. To make it up to you, we are all having a party next month at my house. Thomas and Gyalsten are going to come. And so is my mother."
I was extremely confused. How could someone who hated me so greatly feel remorse for me? Did she really feel bad for me or was Noah just making that up to make me feel better?
"Anyway, my mom filled out a card for you. There's a twenty dollar bill in there, too, just for you." Noah handed me the glittery card and I opened it right away to see if the twenty dollar bill was real or counterfeit. Then I opened the card:

Dear Ginny,
I just wanted to tell you that I feel extremely remorseful for you; you experienced many horrendous events last night. Even though I believe in the traditional idea of marriage, I think attempting to murder someone because of their sexual orientation is undemocratic and unfair to the person. I wouldn't care if my son was skoliosexual, like you, because I love him. I also love you and I truly except you. Feel better, Ginny! I'll see you at your party!

From,
Song

I love you, too, Song.