Choni~ a twisted tale

Chapter 5: Deviant

A/N:very long chapter here. hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. favorite and review please!

"You've been acting different, Cheryl. So different. I'm taking somewhere where they can fix you. Make you all better," Mother said looking straight ahead, her eyes trained on the road.

"What's wrong with me mother?" I asked shortly.

"You know what you've been doing, Cheryl. Ever since junior high. Deviant. Deviant. Deviant."

I bit my lip. I heard stories about kids who got sent to conversion therapy. Beat till they died or injected with so much toxins and drugs they overdosed or the lucky ones that made it out left with mental trauma.

"There's nothing wrong with me, Mother. Let's go home," I said in a half-assed attempt at making Mother change her mind.

But it was to late. We were already in front of The Sisters of Quiet Mercy. "You will get better, Cheryl. You have to get better."

I rolled my eyes but terror had gripped my bones, making itself comfortable for a long stay.

Tired. I'm so tired. But I don't just need some sleep, I need food and warmth and...Toni. I'd even settle for Betty or Archie or Veronica, maybe even Kevin. It was so lonely here. They were trying to starve and freeze the gay out of me apparently. I wasn't doing much to fight the evil nuns off. I was too busy trying to disappear into my book or hold on to any hope that someone might find me. That someone would make the Sisters stop. Tired. I'm so so tired of it all.

"Cheryl," Sister Woodhouse barged into my small cell. "We're doing something more physical today so put your shoes on."

I slowly sat up and bent down to grab the small and worn Mary Janes that probably were worn at least five times before me. I unbuckled them and slipped my feet in.

"Faster Cheryl. We don't have time for dilly dallying."

I moved as quickly as I could, fastening the shoes and jumping to my feet. Bad choice. I felt my weak legs sway beneath me.

Sister Woodhouse smiled. "Let's go." We walked down a long hallway and then down a flight of stairs into a steaming hot room with at least fifty sand bags stacked in the center. "Stack all of the bags in the NorthWest corner, Cheryl."

I huffed as she walked away but brabbed on of the bags and slung it into the directed corner. It felt like I was lifting and moving bags for days. Finally, I dropped that last one onto the pile and collapsed on the floor. I was covered in a layer or dust, sand and sweat. What I would give for a shower right now. The door opened and I perked up. Sister Woodhouse entered and I let out a breath, I could finally leave this sandbag hell. Wrong. Apparently I had stacked the bags in wrong corner.

It was sore by the time I was halfway through removing the bags. My muscles ached with every movement I made. I was so thirsty. I couldn't help the tears that were bubbling out of my eyes and clouding my vision. I stumbled and let go of the sandbag I was holding. I fell to the ground sobbing. I just wanted this to end.

I wanted Toni and long chats with Veronica and playing with Juniper and Dagwood with Betty and singing with Josie and food at Pop's with the gang and greuling practices with the Vixens and tea with Nana. I just wanted out of this hellhole. I don't know how long I was on the floor before Sister Woodhouse entered and clucked her tongue in distaste.

"Oh Cheryl. You'll never get better if you don't try," she said, yanking me up to my feet.

I held back a sob.

"It's movie night. Go take your shower and eat the food left in you room. I expect to see you at seven-thirty," the nun barked before releasing me and briskly walking away.