Hidden Within

8 | so wrong

To this day, I'm unsure of exactly when Delaney told my parents about me and Sloane. I guess she'd spoken to them about what she'd seen on her way out of my house that day, because it felt like there was no time between her leaving and my mother bombarding me that night.

I remember reaching for my phone to call Sloane at the same time my mother burst into my bedroom. Her expression was one of rage and shock and hurt, as if I'd personally betrayed her. Her eyes were wide and abnormally bright, shiny with anger or tears, I don't know. Instantly, I knew. Somehow, Mom knew about Sloane. Sloane and me. Us.
           
I'd never been so terrified in my life.

"Give me the phone," Mom said, eyeing it in my hand. I'd already dialed Sloane's number, and it was ringing, waiting for her to answer.

"Mom—" I croaked, voice breaking before I could finish my sentence. My vision blurred with hot tears that fell before I could hold them back, my emotions so all over the place I wasn't sure exactly what to feel. Sad, I think. What I felt most was sad. I'd always known my parents wouldn't accept me if they knew the truth about who I was. But at that moment I was facing the proof of that assumption.

Mom snatched the phone from my hands, glancing down at it, her expression full of rage as she looked at the screen to see I was calling Sloane. She ended the call before waving the phone in my face tauntingly as she exclaimed, "You are never talking to that girl again!"

That girl. Not saying Sloane's name was my mother's way of taking away her title—her humanity. Because, in my mother's eyes, Sloane was no longer quite human. She was a different breed entirely, something disgusting and filthy. Because she was homosexual, or liked a girl, the same as me. Tears fell down my cheeks as I realized that my mother saw me in the same way she viewed Sloane.

"Please—" I started to plead, only to be cut off by my mother.

"I raised you better than this!" she shrieked. "I thought I taught you right from wrong. I can't believe this. I let her into my home! Under my roof! I can't—"

What Mom said next, I still don't know. I just knew I couldn't take it anymore. My heart was beating too fast and my hands were too sweaty and my stomach churned like I was going to be sick. I wasn't thinking as I shoved past my mother and out of my room, heading for the stairs. I just needed to get away. I needed quiet. I needed to get out of there.

My father was in the kitchen, sort of just standing there. He lifted his eyebrows at the sight of me and a look I couldn't quite read passed through his eyes, but he didn't say a word. Maybe because he didn't know what to say. Or maybe because Mom was doing enough talking for him, screaming while she was hot on my heels.

"You're not leaving this house, Hadley Carter!" she called to my back, just the sound of her unbearable yelling making my blood boil. "You're grounded. Do you hear me, young lady? Grounded!"

I was crying steadily at that point, though I was hardly aware of the tears as they fell from my eyes and left jagged paths across my cheeks, dropping onto my clothes, my hands. I wanted to get away. I wanted to run. I wanted quiet.

I was trapped.

"Carol." My dad's voice was hoarse as he spoke to my mother. "Calm down. Let's talk about this instead of—"

"There is nothing to talk about!" my mother snapped, cutting him off. "Our daughter is sick, David! She needs help!"

"Carol—"

"She is not the girl I raised her to be!" Mom screamed, her words each like a slap to the face. I felt weak, leaning against the counter as I sobbed to myself.

"She is standing right here!" I hadn't realized I'd said the words aloud until my parents were looking at me, eyes wide in surprise as if they'd forgotten I was in the room. "I'm not fucking sick!" I snapped, glaring at my mom. I was full of rage and adrenaline and sadness and anger, emotions that fueled me to keep going. "There is nothing wrong with me! I love her, Mom! I love her and—"

"That is what is wrong with you!" Mom yelled back at me so loudly I could have sworn the house shook.

"Why does it have to be wrong?" I fought back, tears stinging my vision and making it hard for me to talk. "What about it has to be so wrong? If I like her and she likes me and I'm happy, then why—"

The sting of my mother's hand across my cheek cut me off short. I remember the brief flash of pain that cut across the side of my face, backing away from my mother and raising a hand to my cheek in disbelief. My parents had never hit me or my sister growing up. I think I was in more shock than pain.

"Go to your room," Mom spat. The look that gleaned in her eyes then still haunts me to this day. I'd been her daughter for years, yet in that moment she looked at me as if she didn't know who I was.

And the truth is that she didn't. She still doesn't. Even I'm still trying to figure out who I am.

"Carol," my father said. His voice was calm, yet there was a rough undertone to the word.

"I'll deal with this in the morning," Mom muttered, turning away from me. "Go to your room, Hadley. Now."

I didn't hesitate to turn on my heel and head up the stairs, locking myself away in my room and trying to find solace in the silence.

Little did I know that would be my last night at home.

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a/n: idk but i have been so sad and tired today. someone pls bring me jordanfennell 🥺