BLACK SHEEP | DW

000.

ever since her mom left, neither venus nor her father felt safe anymore. it was almost as if they were so distracted in looking for security that they forgot how beautiful life is, how to listen to the hummingbirds sing among all the brambles and weeds.

she missed her mom in a small way. tiny enough that she could fold it up and put it in her pocket, and carry that loneliness anywhere she went. she could forget it was there until her hand accidentally slipped and brushed against the memory.

and just like that, in one small moment, the sky would crack open and the stars would pour out in waves of sobs.

venus was never one for dramatics or unnecessary displays of emotion. she often remembers hating books in english class that made females seem so frail and sensitive to every minor inconvenience.

sure, she didn't know what, or more specifically who, she wanted to be yet, but the one thing the girl did know was that she would never be one of those damsels in distress.

she would never be like her mother.

she could remember that autumn day so clearly: the smell of rain and wet trees on the last days of november. the evening fell slowly, like a fluttering flag, and the night was cold and moonless.

she never remembered small details like that before, but this one day was an exception.

this was the day she saw her father cry for the first time.

venus could hardly decipher if it were a cry or a laugh at first; he was in such hysterics. but when his eyes looked up to her, bloodshot red, and her mother scoffed slamming her knitting down on the couch in disgust, venus could feel the tension almost as if it were tangible.

"gay?" her mother questioned baffled. "how could you be gay? harold we are married! we have a daughter! you are not gay!"

eyes widened like a wild animal caught in headlights, venus almost bit her tongue in disbelief. for a moment she wondered if she should even be hearing this conversation.

"i just am maurine, i always have been," he says between chocked sobs. "no one understands, they think i'm ill... mentally i mean-"

her mother cut him off abruptly, shooting up from the wooden rocking chair. "you are ill! you are seriously ill!" she yelled so loud venus thought the neighbors might hear. "how could you do this to our family! to venus... to me!"

"i-i.." he stutters, shakily standing on his own two feet. "i never meant to hurt no one. i just don't want to hide who i am anymore - who i love."

"who do you love, harold? because it clearly isn't me!" her mother shot evily, arms crossed across her chest.

her father grabs onto her arms, and she almost backs away in disgust. "of course i love you maurine, i always have loved you. just... not in the way i love him."

her mother lost it. she broke down, throwing herself back into the rocking chair, hands to her face muffing sobs. venus could feel her mother's heart shatter into a million pieces in that moment, but weirdly enough, she could feel her fathers shatter too.

he approached venus, slowly, scared she might flip out on him too. holding her shoulders, he brought her close to his chest and venus hugged him tight.

"dad," she says in almost a whisper. "you could have told me."

she could feel his chest rise and lower as he let out a baited breath. "i didn't want you to think any less of me. i didn't want to lose you both," he says, implying her and her mother.

"oh dad," venus says, tears now pricking at her eyes. she shook her head, pulling away to look at her father. she observed him for a second. his face was wet with tears and his lips were cracked open from chewing on them, a nervous tic.

"you're still you. you're still my dad and as far as i'm concerned you'll always be."