I opened my door slowly, and stepped out to face the fury I knew would be directed at me. “Have you been contacting your sister!?” I gulped as she said it. That was decidedly not what I thought she would be upset about. I had to lie. I didn’t like telling lies- it made me feel sick most of the time- but I had to for Ida’s sake. 

“No.” I steeled myself for whatever came next. 

“Then why did she send a letter to you?” Though the words may look nice on paper, they were the epitome of unpleasant in real life.

“She- she sent me a letter?” I asked, unsure why she would’ve done that. Ida knew it wasn’t a good idea. My mom slid the envelope over to me aggressively, boring holes into me with her stare. The good news was, I genuinely had no idea about this, so it would be easier for her to believe me when I told her I didn’t know why she’d sent it.

I opened the letter, fully expecting it to actually be from dad, but instead it was a neatly typed paper detailing a plan… to get Angel to fall in love with me? What was this? I dropped it in shock, and my mother picked it up. “Oh? Who’s Angel? A childhood crush, I assume, considering you haven’t talked to your sister in years, right? I’d love to meet her.” Her tone was slick with sarcasm. I corrected her, that Angel was a boy, not thinking about what I was doing. Fuck.

She started off calm, but as she went on, it got more aggravated. “I did not raise my son to be a pervert. I did not raise my son to be a faggot,” She spat the word like poison, and I cringed. “I want you out of this house by Wednesday. Never speak to me again.” She turned on her heel, and walked away.

I sank to the floor. I was being thrown out, in January, with snow still on the ground and no one to call. Dad wasn’t an option, he and Ida lived states away, and I knew it wouldn’t work. I didn’t have anyone else. I let hot tears slide down the bridge of my nose, spilling onto the cold tile floor. What was I going to do? Help me, someone. Please.