Love Song (LGBTQ+) (COMPLETED)

63. Goner

Stepping through walls of the entrance and into the parking lot of the hotel, I began to stumble my way towards the four or so horizontally-parked squad cars in front our room as the mounted lights flashed their patriotic colors. Approaching the closest car on the far left, one of the officers stepped in front of me and blocked my path towards or into the hotel room. Along with the still-heavy beating of my heart, I was now able to hear the talking of the spectators and the running engines of the police cars that blocked more than a few cars from getting out and leaving.

"Are you the girls that were staying with the woman in this room?" the officer asked, turning his left shoulder back to the door as he looked in that very direction.

"We are." Grace answered for me. "Did something happen to Jessica?"

"It appears she was stabbed by a homeless male about fifteen minutes ago. The person next door heard the yelling and thudding and then decided to call the police. She was taken to the hospital not too long ago." the officer answered. "He's already been arre. . ."

The police being around and the door being open already had me spinning in vicious circles mentally, but hearing that she was stabbed only made it worse as nauseating dizziness fell over my eyesight and equilibrium. As the officer quietly spoke the equivalent of incoherent nothings to me, it was taking all of me mentally and physically, to stay standing upright at that moment. Right in that millisecond, I wanted to do nothing more than fall over and throw up, in hopes that it would make me feel just a little bit better. I just wanted to fall over, get sick, and wake up the next morning to find out this was all some kind of messed up nightmare.

That was when I saw him. A gray-bearded, tanned man was forced up with a pair of handcuffs restraining his hands behind his back as he was guided to one of the cars by a younger officer. That man wasn't just any man, this man was the person I had severed all my ties to what felt like so long ago. The bearded man who was being being ushered to the back of a police car was the person I used to call my dad. It was seeing that face that allowed my head to clear up just long enough to think coherently, and that was when I did the math - math that ended up being simple arithmetic.

My dad was the "homeless male" that stabbed my mom.

All I could think about in those minimal clear-headed seconds was how I almost lost Grace. Now, I was about to lose my mom after just getting Grace back? After spending so long feeling empty, I was finally starting to feel the acceptance and love that I always yearned to feel in my life, but I was going to lose a vital piece of that now. All because that piece of shit who got himself kicked out had some vendetta against me. My mom had to be the victim for something that didn't have anything to do with her because I wasn't there.

I was clearly his aim. It was obvious to even me that, at some point, I became the source of every single one of his problems. I was in love with a girl, so he left me alone. He drunkenly said that he would rather be dead than have a gay daughter, more specifically, me. Him saying that about me was what got him kicked out. He used her because she was the only one around and the next best option if it wasn't me. Even if it landed him in prison for the rest of his miserable existence, he wanted to dole out his revenge to the girl who began his downward spiral towards rock bottom.

As my eyes drifted downwards to the holster belt belonging to the cop standing inches front of me, my eyes spotted his gun just sitting inside of the holster, completely unguarded. In that moment of incongruity, an entity other than myself came over me as I reached forward, ripped the gun free of his holster, and ran forward with sights of the gun locked onto a lone target only a few feet away from me. Held inside both of my small, fragile hands, I was pointing a loaded gun right at one of the two people who gave me my life.