Why does God hate me?

Part 2

LGBTQ+

I have never hated busses as much as i do now. Sitting in between that fat guy who sweats more than a gym combined and the lady who non stop talks about her life story. 

The bus continues to hum and trundle along, it's around twelve by now and the streets were mostly deserted. Outside, the road is dark, the bus' inside is only dimly lit by small lights at the rear end, above my head. 

In front of me, most passengers are asleep, their heads lolling to the sides with every jerky twist and bump. I find it hard to sleep between the meat sack uncomfortably compressing me into the seat and the lady blabbing in my ear about her dead cat. It's worse than my pastor when he talks about marriage. 

I'm pretty surprised to be honest. My parents still haven't called me and I've been gone way past my curfew. It just shows you how much they love ya.   

*

Okay, so the calls and texting has started. Only took them what... three hours? 

People around me are grumbling about my phone constantly vibrating and the lady next to me has stopped talking to shoot angry glares at me. The fat man is shaking his head at me but i don't give a fuck. 

Yea, yea i know, everybody hates that guy who is constantly getting texts and not turning it on silent but i can't, okay? I might get a text from my brother so i need to keep it on. 

I skimmed through setting and hit the vibrate button, numerous texts from my mom and dad were coming through, they were continuously asking where i was and to come home. I wan't that interested until the texts suddenly stopped. I stared at my phone for a few minutes before i received a text from Esther,

'I had to tell them. Sorry.' It read. 

More texts came rolling in but most were from my father, assorted swear words were thrown at me through the phone. Everything you could imagine. Then there was my mother, her texts showed her disappointment, her disgust, in only slightly kinder words. I looked at their contacts and pressed the block button on both, removing them from my life. Even though i knew it was going to happen... it still hurt : they were still my parents and to hear them call me all of those things was torture. But still, they did live up to my expectations. 

Instead of moping i tucked away my phone and lay my head on the back of the seat. It was still a long drive. 

*

I hopped off the bus an hour later and headed for the train station a couple of blocks away. The woman who had sat in front of me was heading that way (I heard her tell the man next to her) so i just followed her to the station. 

Getting through was quite difficult with a large bag in my arm and the amount of people in the station. I stood waiting on the platform with the other people, it was extremely cold by now and dark too. It was midnight and i couldn't help but yawn, i was never allowed to stay up this late. 

The train pulled in five minutes later and i happily got into the warm cart. I sat in a seat at the very back away from others. I had a four hour ride ahead of me so i pulled out my headphones and passed the time listening to music. 

*

I stood outside of the station in San Francisco in the early hours of the morning waiting, my headphones still rested on my head and my eyes were drooping from boredom and lack of sleep but i couldn't help but be excited : i was going to see my brother for the first time in years. 

When a silver Ford came round the bend a small wave of excitement rolled through me, it was my brother. 

When he stepped out of the Ford the air was knocked out of me, tears welled in my eyes and my breath caught in my throat. His eyes connected to mine and the next thing i knew i was pulled into his arms. I clung to him desperately, trying to make up for the years we lost : my parents took from me. This is what love feels like. 

*

My brothers apartment was actually decent, which surprised me. His apartment was small, it had a main room with a couch, tv, kitchen and table tucked against a wall as well as three doors leading to two small bedrooms and a bathroom. For what it was worth, i was impressed he could afford this much. 

"My roommate was living with me but she moved into her boyfriends house, she let me keep the furniture so that's why it isn't too shitty. By the way, i work at a computer place so i'll be out at nine." Luke told me, i was impressed with my brother. He had actually grown up.

"You can have the bedroom on the right, it's yours now." Luke said tiredly, he closed the door and ruffled my hair before going into his own bedroom to sleep.

I couldn't fucking believe it, after years of waiting i was finally away from my condescending, closed minded parents and back with my brother. I knew they wouldn't come looking for me, and yea, that hurt, that they didn't care enough but at the same time i was happy i was away from them ; to have freedom. 

The bedroom i was given was small, it had a double bed pushed into the corner of a grey room, it had a black desk to the side of the door and a wardrobe at the end of the bed with a small dresser next to it. It had a painting of the tardis from Doctor Who and i couldn't help but smile, my friend Andrew had once  me watch a few episodes and i loved it. Not that i could watch it at home though : it would rot my brain according to my parents. 

The moment my head hit the pillow i couldn't keep my eyes open, yea this sounds cheesy and everything but damn the pillows are soft. I was impressed with my brother, who knew my rebellious, stubborn, asshole of a brother would actually be able to afford all of this. Still, as stupid as my brother is he must be good if he can weasel his way into working at a tech company. Thank God to my brother though.

*

This is the second part to Why does God hate me, i hope you enjoyed it!

Please vote and comment on this story, i would love to hear your opinions  and see you later for another part. Tell me what you think, share with your friends and tell me anything you like, strike up a conversation with me because i'm happy to listen! 

Now, enjoy your day and i will see you later when i upload a new part in this story.

P.S please tell me if i have misspelled or said something in the wrong way as i am from England and have never visited  America so i don't know.

See you later!