Worlds Apart Second Entry

by Mark Mangum

December 15th, 2007

The next morning I woke, not to Monica sitting in the chair next to me, but to my mother Lois, and my father Daniel. This instantly set me into unease, as I knew how my father felt about me, and my mother did not have an opinion other than that of Daniel Belmont. She was more than an avid drinker, and I was sure that she had taken to alcohol to drown out any opinion that she might have had other than her husband’s. It seemed as if she had stifled herself just to maintain some semblance of a marriage between the two, and heaven forbids if anyone challenged Daniel’s authority. I had been all but estranged from my family since I had come out. My father predictably did not approve of the lifestyle that I was to lead as a gay man, and as such, my mother also did not approve. My sister Joy had been the first in the family to know since I was closer to her than anyone else in my family. She had been very accepting and told me that I would always be her brother no matter what. She would be the only contact that I have with the family for more than a year. My sister Rachel is a cookie cutter mold of my father and had alienated me just as my father had.

“Well Lucas, I can’t say that I am surprised to see you lying in that bed,” my father said to me. “I tried to warn that this would be the road you would be headed down if you kept on with this lifestyle.” My mother just shook her head in agreeance. “Did you ever once consider your mother or your sisters or even me in this little stunt? Think about what this has done to our reputation, not only to have a gay son but to have him attempt suicide.” “Father that is all you have ever cared about, your reputation! No, I didn’t ever think of any of you, have you ever thought of me in the last year? The last couple of months? I am sure that you have simply forgotten you had a son because I don’t fit into any of your ideals. What a shock it must have been to get a call that your son had attempted suicide! I bet you had to stop for a brief second and think ‘what son?’ Why don’t you just get out?” My head was beginning to ache, and the cuts in my arms started to throb again.


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