Seventeen

Sunday mass. It's something I've had to attend my entire life. It's never something I've decided to attend, but have done so anyway for my parents.

I wasn't always apathetic when it came to religion. When I was little, I actually had a strong connection with God. I liked singing at church, and I thought the cathedral was gorgeous. But as I aged, I became more and more disenchanted. I wondered why all these things were taught to me, and if it was truly real. Was there really a divine power watching over me?

By the time I reached middle school, I had a weak connection to the Catholic church. I saw the way my parents would treat certain groups of people and felt guilt. The way my life was going, I felt like I was alone, and no one was watching over me. It didn't feel right.

Today, I still continue my tradition of going to church every Sunday. Stepping into that same white and gold cathedral, my parents leading me inside. We find our usual spot and sit at the pew. Once more people arrive, the mass gets started, and we partake in the opening hymn.

We talk of pardoning our sins, and jump right into the gospel reading. Another hymn, more pardoning of sins. The name of Christ is holy, blah blah blah. It all sounds like amplified white noise to me.

Since I've started dating Austin, my relationship with the church has reached an all-time low. Although my parents have never explicitly stated that they hate gay people, I know their backgrounds, who they were raised by, and what messages have been given to them by the church. I feel like an outsider, even just standing in the pew. All the people around me, though they've seen me grow up and have known me my whole life, would never speak to me again if they knew who I really was.

This time of year, our church prepares itself for lent, Easter, and the rest of the coinciding holy holidays. I can tell that, as usual, my parents are super invested and excited to be here. I find it great that some people can find solace in the Catholic church, but I'm not one of them.

As if I fell asleep and woke up suddenly, the mass is nearly over. I lost myself in my own thoughts, which happens pretty often these days. I must have just gone through the motions until now.

We go up, take communion, and head back to the pew for the remainder of the mass.

"The Lord be with you."

"And with your spirit," I mumble.

"May almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirt."

"Amen," everyone responds.

We all get dismissed and file ourselves out of the cathedral. My parents exit with giddy strides and smiles on their faces. I exit with the weight of the world on my shoulders.

"I thought today's mass was excellent. Did you enjoy it, Dylan?" my mom asks me. I nod, not saying anything in response.

The three of us make our way down the street to the parking lot. Across the street, two women with dyed hair sit next to each other. As we pass, they kiss. My parents keep walking, but I could see the stink on their faces from a mile away.

As soon as we get in the car, my dad says, "Right across from a Catholic church? Really? The nerve they have."

My mom shakes her head. "I don't understand how people can choose to live that way. It's downright sinful."

I sit quietly. My dad asks, "Is there anyone at your school who is in a relationship like that?" My heart starts to race.

"Nope, not that I know of."

"Good. I don't want you being exposed to that kind of behavior. It's sickening," he spits.

Thank goodness I'm not exposing myself to that kind of behavior. That'd be a tragedy.

The whole ride home, I have a pit in my stomach and a sense of dread falling over me. Being super old school Catholics, I should've known they wouldn't be LGBT-friendly. I was an idiot for thinking otherwise. I wish I got the cool, hip, modern Christian parents that Sammy has.

"Make sure you wash the dishes today, honey," my mom reminds me before I can escape to my room.

Not wanting to fight, I simply say, "Alright."

I wash off the muck from our bowls and plates and try to put them in the dishwasher as quickly as possible. Midway through, I feel a buzz in my pocket. I wipe off my hands and take my phone out to check.

"I love you," Austin writes. I smile wide and my heart flutters.

"What are you smiling at?" my dad asks, walking in the kitchen. I quickly click my phone off and put it back in my pocket.

"Just a funny post I saw," I tell him, getting back to the dishes.

"Mhm," he says, suspiciously. He continues walking into the living room, but his presence was enough to put me on edge. So, I simply finish doing the dishes in silence.

*

"I'm going to tell them."

"What? Are you sure?" Austin asks me, a little concerned.

I nod. Although every bone in my body disagrees with my decision, I nod.

He sighs. "Okay. Please be careful."

I nod. "I will. Thank you," I say, kissing him one last time.

Suddenly, I'm back with my parents. The two of them sit on the couch, looking at me expectantly. A surge of pain courses through me, but I walk closer to them nonetheless.

"Mom. Dad. I need to tell you something," I speak softly.

"Spit it out," my dad says, getting up and towering over me.

I take a deep breath. "I'm gay."

The floor opens up into a dark pit, and I stumble in. I hold on to the edge, which was growing by the second, with my fingertips.

"No, you're not," both of my parents say simultaneously. Both of them step on my fingers, one taking responsibility of one hand, forcing me to let go and plummet down.

I scream until I can't anymore. Eventually, it feels as though there's no air left to breathe.

Suddenly, I wake up. I find myself in a dark place, not able to see anything around me.

A familiar voice in my ear whispers, "He's mine."

Flashing to another scene, I see six figures in the distance. Two stand out to me: a slim, chocolate haired boy next to a girl with short red hair. They hold hands and the whole group laughs together. They turn around, and I see my friends.

"I told you he's mine. Why are you back?" Sammy asks, glaring. My heart races and I double back a few steps.

"W-what's happening?" I say, wanting to cry.

"We don't need you," all of them say in unison.

Frozen in place, the man who should be my boyfriend approaches me and repeats, as if some type of twisted mantra, "We don't need you."

Blinded by tears, the scenery changes once again. All I can hear is laughter, but it didn't seem like they were laughing at anything funny. I wipe my eyes and look around to see faceless teens in a school hallway, laughing and pointing at me.

This can't be real... no...

*

I jolt up in bed, feeling hot and sweaty. I strip my blanket off from on top of me and turn so my legs are hanging off the bed. I quickly grasp around for my phone on my nightstand, and click it. It's 2:43.

My heart continues to race from whatever hell I just experienced. I've had dreams like that before, but never that painful. And never with Austin.

I try to regain comfort in the fact that none of it was real, and I'm safe again. But the pit in my stomach remains.

Although I'm unsure if Austin is awake, I call him anyway. It rings only once or twice before he picks up.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" Austin asks, clearly panicked. I calm myself a little just from the sound of his voice.

"I'm okay now," I sigh a breath of relief.

"What's wrong?" he asks, still concerned.

"If I said I had a nightmare, would you laugh at me?" I ask, scratching my head.

"Of course not. I'm guessing it was worse than usual?" he asks, knowing I've had plenty before.

"Yeah. It was rough."

"Do you want to talk through it?" he asks kindly.

"No. I just wanted to hear your voice," I tell him.

"Oh yeah?"

I blush. "Yeah. Hearing you makes me feel better," I admit.

He lets out a brief sigh of happiness. "Everything's going to be alright, Dyl. I'll always be here with my voice."

I smile wide and lay down, leaving the phone next to my ear.

"Is it okay if I just leave you on for a little longer? You don't even have to talk if you don't want to," I ask.

"I'll stay on as long as you need. I'm here," he says sweetly. I close my eyes and just listen to the sound of his gentle breath, pretending like he was right there next to me. I quickly find myself falling asleep, Austin still virtually by my side.

The next morning, I'd come to find out that he never hung up.