Don't Look For Me

Cayn gets overwhelmed with her life, her boyfriend doesn't seem right for her, and her family falling apart piece by piece. She runs away from home, only to meet up with a girl named Dee.

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9. Of course not

   I gasped, and felt my face stretch into the mask of sheer terror.

  "Don't scream." a surprisingly pleasant and oddly familiar voice growled. My blood ran cold, as a trickle of cold sweat seeped down my back.

  "Dee?" I whispered in a small voice. I felt the hand holding the knife press harder against my neck, drawing a thin line of red.

  "How do you know my name?" Dee whispered menacingly, "And what are you doing in my house?"

  This is it. I thought. Now, I need to tell her about my reason. I need her to understand. She might hate me now, but I really need a place to stay. I took a deep breath, and prepared to say my mentally well-rehearsed speech. Instead, this came out:

  "I'm gay." my mouth said. No. No no. My mind said.

  The hand gripping the knife slowly relaxed. I heard a gasp come from Dee. Then, a small sniff. 

   Huh? Crying?.. "A-are you OK?" I was so relieved that I wasn't dead that my knees started quivering.

  "My mom kicked me out for being gay. She actually left me here, alone, in this house. To fend for myself..." Dee whimpered in a small voice.

  I gasped, and slowly turned to face this girl. The hand holding the knife was down at her side, and her other hand was on her face. I gently worked her hand away, and held it. Her exposed face reminded me of someone... I blinked. Her button nose, dark lips, and blue and brown eyes..

  I released her hand, and threw my arms around her thin frame. Holding this broken girl, I imagined filling her cracks with my tears. "I'm so sorry." I whispered.

  She gasped. "That's the first time anyone has apologized to me. Usually they call me a dyke and run." At the mention of the word "dyke", I pulled back and looked into her eyes, holding her stare.

  "Can I spend the night here? I ran away from home. I can't bring myself back to that place."

  She frowned. "Why did you leave? Did your parents not except you either?"

   Glancing at the floor, I suddenly felt shy. I covered my face with my hands and slid slowly to the floor. My heart couldn't take it. My parents.. they don't know...And I remembered. They often spoke of how much "homosexuality is unnatural" They would never want to see me again. They would hate me for who I am. And suddenly, My hands were not a shield, but a dam. A dam for tears.

    

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