Gone

Chapter One

Chapter 1

Moving to a new town is supposed to be good for you. Making new friends, getting away from old drama, all good, right? Wrong.

When my mom made us move to a new town, I was glad to get away from te abusive, controlling man I call my father. Even though I was leaving my best friend, I wasn't feeling too bad about jt. We'd had an argument and neither of us wanted or attempted to apologize, ao I had decided to leave it alone.

My mom and dad had just recently gone through a nasty divorce and mom wanted to get away from dad.

There was one problem with moving; mom didn't tell me it was a full on, homophobic, Christian small town until she'd already bought the house. My worst fear was that if they found out about my sexual orientation

It was going to be difficult.

Mom told me that she was sending me to the private Christian school they had for 1st to 12th graders. Which means uniforms; which means I would die; absolutely die. It wasn't like I'm not attractive, it's just, I don't like people controlling me or taking away my freedom of speech.

Christian schools weren't the ones that hit you with a ruler right? No? Oh yeah, that's Catholic.

Anyway, that wasn't what was getting to me the most; it was the fact that Christian's thought gay marriage and relationships were wrong; bad thing is I had been openly bisexual since 8th grade. How that would work? I wasn't too sure. I'd just have to hide it.

My mom accepted me for who I was; who I still am. My brother did too, even though he didn't quite understand it until he turned thirteen. My sister and my dad hated it, my sister grabbed any chance to call me a dyke she could. We got into a physical fight over it once.

The four of us (mom, Chris, Kirsten and I) were moving because my parents had just gone through a nasty divorce. They'd been married since before I was born, but I'd never been too sure why they had stayed together after Chris was born; four years into their marriage.

I have had issues with trusting people ever since I was little. I'd witnessed my dad hitting my mom countless times before, but I never realized it was wrong until I was eleven and I told my best friend. Who, in turn, told me I needed to call the police.

So, that night, when my dad was out doing who-knew-what, in who-knew-where, I got into an argument with my mom about calling the police. I told her if she didn't get a divorce with him, then I would call the police and Chris, Kirsten and I would be taken away. She told me I didn't know what I was talking about and grounded me, swearing that if I ever told anyone else again I would be sent away.

So, I didn't, until, finally, I called the police a year ago. My siblings and I were taken away and put in a foster home for two months until things began to sort themselves out.

The only reason I had called the cops was because of my . . . Best friend. I'd gotten up the guts to tell her about the abuse only when she'd asked about the bruises on my arms from my father grabbing too hard.

My mom had become a heavy drinker in the past few years, but she'd won custody of us.

It was either an abusive man who didn't know what he was doing in life. Or an alcoholic mother who has a somewhat steady job and a better head on her shoulders.

Not great choices, but I would pick my mother over my father any day.

I'm not sure if my mom ever forgave me for calling the police; we don't talk as much as we used to. I guess I was more withdrawn, snappy and mean; a cold exterior to keep from getting hurt anymore.

Soon after mom announced we were moving from Georgia to Florida, I was happy.

At school I'd never had many friends and tended to stay by myself and go to parties outside of school. I only ever dated two people and the first one was just a guy I'd known who'd had a crush on me in the seventh grade, we'd only kissed once and had broken up a month later. It was barely worth considering dating.

The other was just too painful to talk about.

I was happy to leave, until I learned about the town. Mom and I argued about it a lot, yelling insults and screaming cusses. That was sort of the final breaking point in our relationship, we never really had any close bond after that; keeping out of each other's way.

I wasn't sure how she even got me into that private school. My grades were mediocre but my attitude wasn't good, I liked to act out and didn't care.

Anyway, everything changed when I moved to Oen, Florida.

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Very short.

Ash is to the side ----->