I led Gerard through the park and to the woods. I didn't talk because I thought if I did, I'd say something wrong. I don't know what would've been a wrong thing to say. Maybe I didn't need to say anything at all really. My mind was racing on how I was going to explain everything to Gerard. I don't even think it's hit me yet. The topic just came to mind and soon everything made sense.
Confusing, I know.
Gerard sat down on a rock after I told him to. I looked around for a moment, kids sometimes come in the forest to do shit.
"You're going to hate me." I coughed.
"No I'm not."
Damn was he persistent.
"Okay, light me up." I opened the box and sat next to Gerard. The flicker of fire sparked out and singed the end of the cancer stick. It's a bad habit but if I didn't have it, I would be going crazy. Gerard lit one too and inhaled, making the orange embers glow.
*Flashback...yeah*
I sat on my bed, staring at my phone. I did it. I broke up with her. But I still didn't know why.
Or I didn't understand why.
I felt nothing. I thought I would feel relieved but I honestly didn't. Was I supposed to?
I opened the phone and looked at the wallpaper. The brown-haired blue-eyed girl with her tongue sticking out stared at me. My fingers rushed through the settings. Now a shitty background mocked me. It'll have to do. I heard the door down the hall open and my mom's footsteps.
"Frank, can I come in?" my mom opened the door slowly, forgetting she asked a question. "Why did you break up with her? She was so sweet?" my mom sat down on the corner of my bed.
Too close. "She wasn't sweet." I sighed. "Besides, I didn't really like her anyway."
"Then why did you.." my mom trailed off.
I think she knew what was coming to be honest. She struggled with keeping a perfect family. I was always the fuck-up. I wasn't even supposed to be born. She told me I was an "unexpected gift" but that I was worth it. Thanks for sugar-coating it. I was supposed to be a daughter. I guess this is as close as they're going to get.
"I might be...I don't know..." I ran a hand through my hair.
"Don't you say it."
My head snapped up. My mom was pissed, eyes watering and eyebrows knotted up.
"You're a child of God. Don't you dare say it."
I lost it at that point. Fuck God. If you believe in it, then I respect that. But I don't like to be forced into something. Where the hell was God when I was conceived? Wasn't I a mistake? So tell me why God sent me here.
"Yeah, I am. I'm gay mom." I spat.
"No you're not!" she got up quickly.
"What's it to you mom?!" I stood up too.
"Do you know how people are going to look at us if you told them?! We would be talked about behind people's backs!" she hissed.
"That's all you care about?! You don't care about your own son?!" I looked at her.
"It's because of those kids you hang out with, isn't it. Their forcing you to do this!" She looked up at the ceiling.
"Don't you bring my friends into this." I glared at her.
"You're going to stop hanging out with those faggots!" She pointed at me.
"Shut the fuck up mom!" I screamed.
And that's when I felt a fire blaze on my face. She had slapped me. I felt dirty. Dirty but justified.
"Get out."
I looked down at my feet and heard my mom rush out. I grabbed a back pack and shoved a water bottle, my pocket knife, a jacket. Whatever my mindless body thought was important. I snatched my phone and raced down the stairs.
"You are not my son." my mom said as I passed the dinner table. I stopped and looked at her. Wine glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
"I never thought I was."
