Campfires & Rainbows

Chapter 12

I walked into the Starbucks alone while the rest of the girls sat outside.

It was 2:10, I was ten minutes late. Quinn was on her phone sitting at the corner of the café.

"Hey, sorry, I'm late," I apologized, biting my lip.

"Don't worry about it." She warmly smiled down at me.

Asmaa Almasi's POV

Hi, my name is Asmaa Alanah Almasi.

My family and I are Muslim. My parents have always been strict, no boyfriends, perfect grades, perfect manners, my whole life I have been trained to be this perfect daughter. When in reality, I'm not. I feel trapped.

I wear oddly colored lipstick, heavy eyeliner, I don't smile a lot, mainly because it's my own little way of rebellion. My parents don't like the unnatural look my makeup gives me, but they let it slide.

What they didn't let slide, was me being lesbian.

I came back from school one day in May when school was almost over.

I took two RTD busses to get home. I opened the door and walked inside my house.

"Salam 'un," I nodded towards mother who was sitting on the couch. She slowly looked up at me, her eyes searching my body making me feel conscious of myself. Her eyes finally met mine, her glare made me nervous. I finally looked down at my feet scared of what was gonna happen next.

"Asmaa, you are not lesbian." Fear completely took over my body. I wanted to run but my body would not let me move. Millions of thoughts raced through my head. How did she find out? What's going to happen next? What is Baba going to think? Has mother told him yet? Will father throw me out?

My mother kept lecturing me but I wasn't paying attention, I was too terrified to pay attention.

She finally ordered me to go up to my room and study, "Wait until your father gets home." She looked at me with disgust.

I rushed up the stairs, tears threatening to pour out of my eyes. I felt a lump beginning to build and burn at my throat. I ran past my older brother hiding my face.

I burst into my room, closing the door behind me. Leaning on the door I sank to the floor.

A whimper escaped my mouth.

I looked over on my bed there lay my open journal that I always hid under my mattress, to keep away from prying eyes.

The sight of my note book made me feel a hurricane of emotions. Anger. Pain. Stress. Anguish.

I could feel my depression grow, crawl up my gut and choke me, not letting me breathe. I felt a cloud of darkness rise up and out of me. It surrounded me and pulled down at my heart making it feel heavy, making me feel heavy.

I grabbed the journal and flung it across the room, along with a blood curling cry. Collapsing on the floor, I held onto myself, something I had done many nights because I knew no one else ever would.

I let out another cry which allowed the first tear to fall, triggering a stream of tears to fall from my bloodshot, puffy, red eyes, down my blotchy face onto my pillow.

I proceeded to heave, hiccup, and sob uncontrollably into my pillow. I tried to keep quiet so no one hear but I couldn't. I had lost complete control of all the muscles on my face, all my facial features were bunching up together unattractively. With snot dripping down my nose onto my pillow. But I didn't care. I felt numb but my muscles were still flexed as if to keep me from falling apart.

I cried loudly onto my pillow, making my throat rumble and vibrate. I cried, I just let it all out afraid that if I didn't do that to now, this feeling would stay trapped inside disturbingly lingering in my gut. Chipping away at me day by day.

After what seemed like forever my sobs subsided into slow shaky breathes refusing to settle and threatening another round of ugly crying.

I lay there motionless. My damp puffy eyes drooping and not wanting to come back up. My body began to calm itself, as if telling me to get some rest after having to suffer this way.

I was woken up to the dreadful sound of my bedroom door opening. I slightly opened my eyes to see who the intruder was. It was my father. I closed my eyes again. Wishing my eyes never opened, wishing I was still asleep.

A rough, large hand I recognized as my father's shook me awake. I made an act of innocently opening my drowsy eyes and slowly but gracefully getting up.

"You are a foolish girl." His rough deep voice shook and echoed throughout the room, braking the silence. He rose his hand and struck me across the face, leaving it red and stinging.

He roughly grabbed my hand and dragged me down the stairs, down the hall, and into the kitchen. It was dark outside and the clock read 8 o'clock. My brother was watching TV, unaware of my situation.

My mother was calmly sipping her chamomile tea.

Baba cleared his throat, "You are not lesbian, there is this camp that can fix you. Either you go or I throw you out. If you don't change your ways you will no longer be my daughter. Understood?"

"Yes Baba." I looked down at my feet. My eyes blurry, not allowing me to see clearly.

I am very happy in this camp but I'm anxiously anticipating the day I have to go back home

and face my parents.

Devin's POV:

"Wait so can you cook or not?"

I blushed looking down at my hands, "Sorry I suck at cooking,"

Quinn gently reached over and rested her hand on mine." It's okay I like to eat out either way," She smirked, winking at me.