I Can Imagine {GxG}

Chapter 1

Mom begins putting things away and something clatters to the floor. I instinctively look over and my eyes lock onto a pack of Marlboro reds. I scrunch up my eyes begging not to be taken into a memory. I'm looking down at the pack of cigarettes in my hand, my hands shaking as I slip them into my bag to open the door to our apartment. Mr. Stewart was inside, I didn't need to see or hear him, the stench of alcohol followed him like a conjoined twin. I softly close the door with my left hand holding the bag. My right arm was currently broken and in a brace. Mr. Stewart had gotten angry at me last week while he was intoxicated, and took his anger out. Speaking of, he looks through the kitchen doorway and locks eyes with me.

"Renae, where's my beer?" He asks, narrowing his eyes just the slightest. It looks as if he had something to say... but I didn't do anything wrong...

I look down at the bag in my arms, I pull out a bottle and walk over while handing it to him. He quickly opens it and takes a swing, "And my cigarettes?" I set the bag on the counter while taking out the contents, handing him the cigarettes. I open my mouth to speak, to explain, but a hard smack to my cheek shuts me up. "The fuck is this, it's already opened." I look down, feeling a lump develop in my throat. "You stealing from me girl?"

I gulp and keep my eyes down. "N-no sir. The man I buy the cigarettes from said he was low today and only gave me the pack he had." Mr.Stewart grabs my arm pulling me forward and taking a long sniff.

"You smell like smoke." He states.

"They- uh they- they offered me one, a-and I couldn't figure out how to ex-explain that I didn't-." I'm cut off by being slammed into the wall.

"So you fucking lied to me!" He yells, while digging his nails into my skin.

"N-no." I tried to explain, I did but he wouldn't listen. I knew it was fruitless though, I don't know why I tried.

I'm thrown to the ground and kicked in the ribs. "You fucking brat, I've done my best to raise you without your mother but you just lie and take and take!" I feel another kick in the ribs as I cower below him. "You look just like her too god-dammit."

I try to curl in a ball, but I'm yanked up once again and pressed against the wall. He got closer to me this time though. He was seething, as he got very often, but he tried to slow his breathing and swallowed the spit in his mouth. "Not to mention your teacher called me today, Mr.Williams I think-" I mentally correct him to Wilcons but don't dare say anything. "He said that he was 'proud' of your for coming out to your class, something about how you like girls? He said that I should congratulate you on your 'bravery'" He states while using air quotes briefly and then shoving me into the wall. I tremble, why the hell would my teacher do that?

"I-I I um... " I sputter and shake.

"Now I realize that perhaps it's my fault. After all, your mother left me and I guess you haven't seen how a woman is supposed to be with a man." He states while grabbing my forearm roughly. "So- like any good father, I'm going to make up for my fault." He takes another swing of beer before pulling me roughly behind him into the living room.

I pull on my arm, hoping that he'll let go. I don't understand what he's talking about. In my homeroom we were talking about sexuality, I knew that Marcie was gay because I had seen her memory and I want to help her have the courage to speak up. So I went first and told everyone about how I was pan. I'm brought back to what's going on as Mr.Stewart shoves me into the couch and moves in closely. He places his hand on my bruised cheek. "You look just like her." He whispers, while trailing his hand down my face. I pull away. "As your parent it's my job to make sure you're not a fucking homo living out on the streets. What you want to fuck girls for a living? Where's that gonna get you?! Fucking herpes central. Girls are not to be loved, they're to be used and moved on with. So get this idea of a girl and love out of your head you hear me?" I nod my head aggressively while pushing against the couch. His breath reeked, and his yelling made my skin want to run off. He places his hand on my shoulder while moving forward-

"REN!" A voice yells pulling me out of my memory and back into life. I start breathing hard and move away from them. Mom was holding me in her arms, tears in her eyes. I wheeze while trying to remember what was going on. Mom and I were- unpacking groceries right. I lean over while trying to catch my breath. That was a long one. Mom is rubbing my back. "I wish the doctors could explain your backfashes, why you stop breathing when they happen. I am terrified to let you go to school." Mom tries to hug me, but I push her away. I don't want to be touched. Not right now. Not after remembering that day. I hug my knees and shake my head as tears silently fall down my cheeks. Mom let me head to bed, and I fall asleep crying.

In the morning we didn't talk much, but instead both separately got ready and met in the kitchen/living room. Mom urged me to eat an apple at the least, I still wasn't hungry even though I skipped dinner. She had made me a lunch that I tucked into the front pocket of my bag. I was a vegan, though I hadn't been very strict while living with Mr.Stewart. Mostly because I didn't know when my next meal was, but now that I'm with Mom I'm definitely going to follow it. She was interested in it and promised to try it. So, she made me a pb&j sandwich with broccoli and carrots on the side with a small container of hummus. We drove silently to my new school. I've wearing a simple pair of blue jeans, a baby blue t-shirt with clouds on it, and a black hoodie that's slightly too big for me. Mom was dress professional, she apparently has an interview after she drops me off. Unfortunately when she found out what happened to me she resigned, and applied for discharge which her higher ups granted.

I feel bad that she gave up the job she loved, but she seems to be happy about taking on motherhood again. We pull into the parking lot and make our way into the school. I could already feel people staring at me, and my anxiety rising. I grip my bag harder as we push forward. After a long process of going from the attendance room to the counselor's to the nurse's and then back to the counselor's everything was done. Mom wanted to talk to the nurse about my "flashbacks" as she calls them. It was probably a sight, an empowered fit woman speaking proudly with power and her small anxious daughter who didn't want to meet people's eyes. Finally Mom gave me a hug and grips my shoulders with a smile. "You got this Ren." I give her a smile, which leaves as she leaves the room. The counselor, Mr. Tray, holds out my schedule and map of the school.

"Alright, Miss Stewart are you ready for 3rd period?" He questions while standing.

I nod. "Please don't call me that sir... just Renae is fine."

I seems thrown off but nods. "Renae." He corrects while offering a smile. He was clearly afraid of insulting me or making me mad. Time for school.