A Dangerous Affair (Lesbian Story)

Debatable

Television in the background:

"At this stage Wolf, the public is stuck between a rock and a hard place. By that I mean there is a so obvious clear winner for this race but one has to wonder if the American people are ready to have a first family that has an issue such as LGBT rights so close to their backyard."

"So Jimmy you're saying the biggest threat to the Mitchell's campaign is his daughter."

"Oh obviously Wolf. I mean it's the elephant in the room that no one wants to talk about. It's Williams's Achelis heel. Other than that he's a flawless candidate."

"But I would think the fact that he's made it this far should say something about how much of a non issue that may be in this election. In any case lets not forget that the opposition candidate is making this an easy win for the democrats, Christian."

"Oh of course and you're talking about the fact that the opponent, Johnson's been caught in blunder after blunder after political blunder that he keeps having to backtrack on."

"Precisely, I mean the guy doesn't even know what his own policies are. He's rude. He chops and changes positions. I mean the one thing he's been pretty consistent on is his foreign policy and radical views on terrorism. But one has to wonder if he has the temperament to be the president of the United States. I mean a guy who called Putin a dictator on live television - come on..."

"But we're not discussing the Republican candidate today..."

Abigail
11 September 2016 - Sunday am

Whenever people meet me they're surprised that I can speak of shutter speed and Annie Leibowitz whilst raging about the failures of the Bush administration in the same space of time.

What they don't know is that even though I'm an artist (which was clearly some genetic birth defect); growing up in the Mitchell's household meant that politics and economy was dinnertime conversation.

And as much as I've tried to stay away from it, against my better judgement, I have been following most of the news coverage around my father's campaign.

It's riveting TV to watch. Mostly because the republican nominee Dermot Johnson is a fireball of unfiltered controversy to.

Running against him makes my father look good.

So here I sit this Sunday evening watching the latest of my father's campaign sound bites on the Syrian crisis.

I place my cereal bowl in the sink as I plan to continue my two week hideout from the world.

Barefoot and in low rise grey sweatpants, I've hostaged myself in my studio apartment as the only place that I can be grounded in lately.

It's become clear that when we take to the polls in November the democratic candidate, William Mitchells - my father, is the most likely to be the 45th president of the United States of America.

I don't think it's truly sunk in. Perhaps that's why I've taken to following in the news. I think subconsciously I'm trying to convince my brain that this is happening.

It's a surreal existence to be the grown daughter of the front running democratic candidate.

But as surreal as it is, the worst part is the security that I now have to deal with and the press.

Although I must admit, Carlson, my head of security, isn't that bad.

He's the only person I have agreed to interact with. He comes in everyday at 9 'o' clock sharp for my daily briefing so that he knows what my plans are for the day.

All the bigger events scheduled such as appearances, he already knows beforehand as he gets them mailed by Laura my father's secretary.

I know I'm difficult with Carlson. I know its necessary but I still find it hard to give away parts of myself like my whole schedule. At times I think he'd be happy if I scheduled even my bathroom breaks.

But at least me and him have learnt to work around each other. As long as I notify him of my schedules in due time so he can make the necessary preparations - he stays out of my way. He's discreet and makes small concessions here and there.

For instance at personal social events no men in suits and ties. I don't need the "men in black" intimidating everyone who wishes to speak to me about my art.

Little things, that keep me sane.

However, this week with elections around the corner and the opposition at its wits end, the chains on my sanity have been threatening to snap.

As the unknown swaying variable in my fathers campaign, I am the one thing they can go after.

Well not me, my sexuality.

I've become the latest news piece with my past relationships being thrown into the public eye.

Granted there's nothing untoward in my background, but they're using it to remind the conservatives and the rural voters that the Democratic nominee supports the evil that is homosexuality.

They don't even have to condemn homosexuality - no that would alienate the liberal youth vote - they just have to remind people that the daughter of Mitchell practises witchcraft.

So for whatever ten steps my father's policies and goodwill does to sway the republican vote, the reminder of my sexuality takes him those same ten steps back.

At this stage I can barely eat a burger in a restaurant with a friend without it being publicised as a date.

The hate mail and protests follow me to all my public events.

I had an especially zealous group deface Morgan's gallery where I showcased. The words 'homo lover' sprayed in angry black across her clear glass panes.

I haven't been to the park in ages to take pictures of the scenery and I'm losing my tether. It's too much, I just want to be left alone.

Well, not completely alone.

I want Liz.

I want comfort.

We rarely see each or or even speak now.

All phone contact has been cut off - it's too risky Andy said.

And of course whatever Andy says, goes.

God, I miss her with every fibre of my being.