homophobic • gxg [✔]

sixteen

sixteen

2 days before conversion therapy

The rest of the day, I wouldn't leave my room. I didn't have the energy to walk and talk. All I could do was lay there, stare at my phone and then burst into tears.

After I got home, a wave of pain, regret and guilt rushed over me again. I didn't have another panic attack, but it took about every 10 minutes to stop violently crying in my pillow.

I wasn't exactly sure why I was crying and what I was so guilty about. I had made assumptions in my head, but my brain was too exhausted to think any longer.

"Maybe it's because I kept talking without thinking. I wasn't actually planning on going to conversion therapy." I say to myself, wiping my tears on my sleeve for the fourth time, "But I can't let Nick, Eva and Pillar be right."

"Oh yes you can," I hear my sister say, opening the door. "You can let us be right because you know it's true! You wouldn't survive!"

"How much did you hear?" I ask, ignoring her other comments.

"I came to your door about 10 minutes ago, when I heard you crying. I knew better than to ask what's wrong, 'cause I know you're too stubborn to ask for help or tell anyone what's wrong." Eva explains, rolling her eyes.

"I am not stubborn." I cross my arms.

"I don't understand why you do that." She sits down at the corner of my bed.

"Do what?" I ask, wrinkling my nose.

"Point out the most unnecessary part of a statement. You always ignore what other people say, and I bet you felt so guilty for not listening to what other people say, that you made yourself cry of regret."

I sigh deeply, looking at Eva, then back at my bed. She knew me too well, which annoyed me sometimes. I hated my flaws being pointed out, especially if I was losing an argument.

"You don't know what happened-"

"I understand what happened. I've been with you through it all, even if you don't think I am. I know I'm out a lot, looking for colleges, but that doesn't mean I haven't been paying attention to you," Eva scoots closer to me.  "You went through this when dad left, you stayed in your room and didn't ask for comfort or tell anyone you were hurting. You're doing the same thing now. And I hate to see you doing that to yourself.

"I know how you feel about your own sexuality right now, but that's okay. I don't want you to come out awful if you ever completed conversion therapy. Trust me, all of your friends were right. You couldn't survive. I'll keep reminding you of that." Eva puts her hand on my shoulder.

"You won't tell me why I won't survive." I grumble, frustrated.

"Have you ever heard of at least one conversion therapy story?" Eva asks, and I nod reluctantly. "That's why you won't. The way they torture you and hurt you, just to become straight, isn't worth it. It's hell in there, trust me."

"How do you know, Eva?" I cross my arms tighter, not looking at her.

She sighs. "Once, I stayed over by my friend for a sleepover. She told me we had to go pick her sister up from conversion therapy. I entered that room, terrified. The LGBT community in the office looked like they were all hopeless, as if they wanted to die. They all wore a "Vulnerable" sign on their foreheads, and showed the type of face expression that a depressed person would wear. When we got back to her house, her sister told me she never wanted to go back, but she was forced to or else she couldn't live under their roof. Me and that friend are no longer friends." Eva sniffs, and I realize she was crying during that story.

My heart probably dropped 6 inches from it's original location, because I could feel myself on the brink of tears. The heartwarming story made me tell myself not to go, but my hardheaded personality said otherwise.

"I'm so sorry that happened, Eva. It's good you stopped being her friend," I rub her back, "But, I wouldn't let that happen. You said it for yourself, I'm stubborn. I wouldn't let that happen. I just want thing; to be straight."

"You would let that happen, Janelle!" Eva cries out. "You don't get it. You don't understand. I can predict what's gonna happen if you even went with conversion therapy! I won't let you go!"

I didn't know what to do, or what to say. I knew damn well that Eva couldn't decide what I was going to do.

"Those other people," I finally say, "Have their own story of what happened to them in conversion therapy. I'll have my own story. I can manage."

Eva sighs of hopelessness. I could tell she gave up on me. "I tried. I tried to help you and convince you that conversion therapy is absolutely awful, but it's no use." Eva gets up, "But, Janelle, just a reminder; You wouldn't survive a day in that hell hole." and she gets up.

Was she kidding me? Did she really think I'd ever let that happen? Sure, I had my moments of vulnerability, but that sure didn't mean I would let a stranger take away my pride.

"Just you wait, Eva. I can do this."

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a/n: no just you wait, Janelle. You should've listened. You're in for one hecc of a storm in the next few chapters.

Just a filler-ish.

How about about a second book?

Word Count: 950