My Home Is With You [LGBT+]

Prologue

IT WAS JANUARY 8, 20XX WHEN our entire life was destroyed by an evil man's single decision.

I was in the backseat of the car when I heard my mom curse as she received a news notification on her phone.

A few muttered curses escaping her immediately, "shit, ahora sé que ese viejo solo está vivo por el infierno. Viejo maldito."

Looking back at it now, I can't help but snicker at her choice words of shit, I know that old man is only alive because of hell's existence. Damned old man.

At the time though, I didn't know what exactly happened. I could only feel the sting of tears blurring my vision as I looked down at my own phone and read the article's title:

'We will lose practically everything': Salvadorans devastated by TPS decision.

I felt my heart sink, a lump forming quickly in my throat. I looked up and in the rearview mirror met my dad's stare, his hope slowly dying too.

I was unsatisfied. I needed more. I needed reassurance that everything would be okay.

"¿Y ahora?" I asked quietly, what now?

I pushed the box of donuts away, no longer feeling hungry as my seatbelt tightened over my tummy.

They must've not heard me, not really because they never answered.

They simply started arguing about what actually happened, my dad wondering if they'll have an extension on the thingy (TPS, I remind myself) and my mom explaining for the fifth time that it's not set in stone. Yet.

It didn't matter then anyway; my dad has been in this country illegally for the nearly 20 years that I've been alive. And my mom... she's hanging onto hope that they'll give her enough time for when I turn 21. But for that point, it was still an entire year away.

Her dark molten eyes look back at me as she says, "ahora me voy aferrar a dios y a mi hijo."

I didn't know how to feel about that, even now I still don't know.

Now I'm going to grasp onto God and my son.

A pressure landing on my shoulders I never quite wanted. A God I still question the existence of.

I looked down at my strawberry milk, not tasting at all like I remember it used to be. It's thick and not nearly as sweet as when I was a kid, chalky. I suppose that's what happens when a child is forced to grow up. Not that I was a child anymore.

I remember clenching my fists in my lap. There's nothing I wouldn't do for my family, but that pressure is also constricting my chest. The thing is, I know there's nothing I can do. Not then, not now. And it makes me feel useless.

My mom had reached her hand out to grasp mine and slowly I relaxed. I saw her grab onto her phone next and she immediately began calling and shooting texts to my aunts and older brother.

I can still remember the inkling feeling of dejection clinging to the kitchen when we finally got home. My dad had left without another word after only being home for five minutes, his thumb pressing against the red rubber power button to shut off the TV, screen turning black and shutting off the news that was looping as if on repeat.

We already knew everything there was to know.

Now all we had left to do, was cling onto hope.

___

It's official!
Book is now available on paperback and full version is on Kindle.
Please help support a small time author if you can.
I hope you enjoy the snippets :)

Update 12/28/2023

In light of recent world events and because I would rather stop support major corporations such as Amz, I have deleted my account with them and thus the printed version (and perhaps even the kindle version) is no longer available. So, I will be uploading everything on here in the meant time. Please be patient as I try to update once a week to keep everyone in suspense.

Enjoy!