Where They Go

Chapter Thirteen: The Wandering Mind

A few days had passed since that day at the beach as Erin stood in her closet, pulling her easel out of it.

She had many, many thoughts buzzing around her head. Her plan was to turn on some music and paint the thoughts that were in her mind.
Getting them out and visualizing them would help.

She turned on a playlist of instrumental piano songs and stood in front of the blank canvas.

The gentle sound of piano music moved through the her bedroom as she started to sketch out her thoughts.

Moments later, the sketch was finished.
As Erin picked up the paintbrush, her mind began to wander.

Her confusing feelings for Zoey had only gotten stronger, she was sure of that.

Recently, Erin had began to consider the possibility that she liked Zoey as something more than a friend.

That possibility was admittedly terrifying, but why? Why was that possibility so scary?
The answer was Erin's parents, more specifically, her mother.

While her mother wasn't outwardly homophobic, she had done little things throughout Erin's life that sent the message of, "Queer people disgust me".

One example of this was back when Erin was in Kindergarten.
Her class had made a book about families, where every student drew a picture of their family and wrote a little bit about them.

Erin's teacher had drawn a picture of her family, which consisted of her, her wife, and a few pets.

Once the class' book had been completed, every child received a copy to take home.

Erin's mother had flipped through the pages, grimacing at the picture of the two married women.

At the time, Erin didn't understand why her mother was so disgusted by the drawing, but now, she was able to comprehend the meaning behind the ugly facial expression.

Being able to comprehend it made her absolutely terrified of what she was feeling towards Zoey.

If she liked Zoey, her mother would hate her. Her mother would be disgusted with her.

She rinsed off the paint brush and began to paint with a different color.
As she did this, one thought repeated in her mind: "I don't like Zoey, I don't like Zoey, I don't like Zoey."

A little while went by as her painting was finished. She looked at it intently.
A bed of red roses filled the canvas, as vines wrapped around the limbs of a nude figure. Roses covered the figure's private areas.

The figure was a girl with brown eyes, freckles, and long orange hair.

Erin continued to stare at her creation, a simple phrase at the front of her train of thought: "Oh my God."