our gentle sin

born sick

1.

LISA POV

It wasn't that I was trying to get caught.

It's just that Dad was giving a sermon, and usually, after they were scheduled to finish he would stick around to talk to people and give guidance. Or whatever he did. In all honesty, lately, I hadn't bothered sticking around to find out.

So, when the door to the living room swung open, I was taken by surprise, to say the least, but not more than he was. He stood there shell-shocked for a while as I stared him out, not entirely sure how to react myself.

"Oh, hey Dad." I very poorly attempted to ease the awkwardness that hung thick in the air.

"Lisa, please tell me that this isn't what it looks like," his voice was low. It was rare for Dad to yell, it was when he spoke in quietened tones that I knew he was mad, or at the very least disappointed.

"You know, I wish I could, but chances are, it is exactly what it looks like." I replied simply and shrugged my shoulders.

The fact that he even alluded it to be something other than what it was, was comical in the first place; it literally could not be excused as anything else. Although, I won't fault him for wanting to cling to an alternate reality.

"You need to leave." He wasn't talking to me of course, he was very politely addressing the girl that was on top of me, and that had very much had her tongue in my mouth when he walked in.

She had immediately tried to pull away from me when we were first interrupted, but I held her waist and kept her tight to me, but now she could leave. I just didn't want Dad to pretend he hadn't noticed and brush past it, it would be too easy for him to do that, he wasn't very confrontational.

Like I said, I wasn't trying to get caught, but I wasn't trying not to either.

"I'll call you later." I tell her.

Mina nodded and scrambled to her feet, not bothering to smooth out the creases in her clothes or even put her shoes on, instead she just grabbed them and she couldn't have left faster if she tried.

Dad huffed a deep sigh, one that told me his soul was irked and his spirit was deeply unsettled. He took a seat next to me, head in his hands.

"How did this happen, Lisa?"

"It didn't happen, it just is." I replied simply in a muted voice. I despised when Dad was disappointed, he was naturally a very happy person. I had to keep reminding myself that this was necessary and that I had done nothing wrong.

He raises his head but still refused to look in my direction, as if he may burst into flames should he do so.

"Is this my fault? Did I not guide you enough?"

"You guided me plenty, dad, some things are just inevitable."

"Inevitability is such a definite concept, you're still so young Lisa." I recognised this, instead of expressing muted anger, as was his forte, he was going to attempt to convince me to see reason.

"I can't change my sexuality if that's what you're implying dad." I state categorically, in a way that told him that I could argue to the ends of the Earth for this and that he should just save his breath.

His head finally turned to face me. I didn't detect any notions of anger or even disappointment in his face, just confusion.

"How do you know, have you tried?"

"I don't need to."

"Being a family that's in the ministry means that I don't need this kind of behaviour from you." His voice was getting a little firmer now.

I knew the Church would arise in the conversation, for reasons that were self-evident, and when anything related to the Church was the topic of conversation, dad naturally straightened his posture and puffed out his chest, exuding an energy that not many would want to argue with.

"You chose to live in the ministry, I didn't, I was born into it and had no choice." I point out.

"But you do have the choice to try and help yourself!"

"Dad, I'm sure you've had enough people come to you with this problem to know that praying the gay away, just doesn't work."

"I'm not saying that just--" Another deep sigh. "But lately, you haven't been coming to sermon or getting involved in any church activities, you can't tell me the two don't correlate."

He wasn't wrong. Ever since I began my journey of discovering my sexuality, naturally it conflicted my relationship with religion. And as I learned to accept myself for who I was, the conflict only deepened. It was even more of a struggle because of how closely connected I was with the religion, I had practically grown up in a Church; it was enough to confuse anybody.

"I feel like at this point I know everything that there is to know, that includes what has been preached about homosexuality."

"Listen Lisa, all I'm saying is don't rule anything out just yet. You're still young. As you said, people come to me for guidance, so I'm well aware that a lot of people experiment at this age, that doesn't mean that this is who you are."

"I know exactly who I am." There was a bitter edge to my tone that I couldn't withhold after his last comment. Who I am isn't a phase or an experiment, or something done out of boredom.

"No, you don't, I am your father and know better than you."

"You cannot seriously sit there and tell me you know me better than I know myself." I argue.

"Lisa, you're grounded."

That was something I was not expecting and couldn't help it when I stood up and yelled. "What the fuck?"

"This is exactly what I mean. When did you start cursing? Give me your phone, you won't be calling that girl and from now on you will be following a schedule I set out for you. No more doing whatever you want. I've been too lenient." He mirrored my actions, standing six inches taller than me, with his hand held out, waiting for me to put my phone in it.

"You can't make me do that." I make an effort to declare my words indisputably but cannot help that hint of pleading that is laced in my tone.

"The rules are absolute, if you don't want to follow them, then you can leave." He states, a lot surer and more stable than me.

This made me stop and think. I wasn't exactly in a position where I could afford to be kicked out and become homeless, since I didn't have a job and had deferred from college for a year, the only income of money I had was the amount he granted me each week. He could be bluffing, but I couldn't exactly afford to take that chance.

"You seriously think taking away my freedom is the right way to go? This won't end well for either of us." I warn him without threat.

He takes a breath and when he speaks again his tone is softer. "Look Lisa, let's just see how it goes, just for the time being. What's the harm in trying? I want you to get closer to God again and doing so might just help you in more ways than one."

"I seriously doubt it, but you're hardly giving me a choice." Huffing and slumping back on the sofa, he takes a seat next to me and flings an arm around me.

"That's the spirit."

He smacks my shoulder playfully and jumps up, with a spring in his step as if he had just solved all of his problems. He was going to be met with certain disappointment, but for the time being, I decided to humour him, for both his sake and mine.

Like he said, there was no harm in trying, and if this got him off my back in the long run then I figure it's worth it. The only problem would be sneaking out to see my girlfriend without him knowing.