I need my gay Faye

Name: Faye Henderson

Post: Lead chorister in church

Wing: Arts and Humanities

Faye Henderson.

I know her. She wasn't in school yesterday when Aaron had me sign my body to him for revenge.

Now I know why. She was raped, on friday.

I close my eyes in hopes that doing so would wash away the memory of the video I just watched.

Poor girl. She has always been so happy. Always searching for the good in everything.

Her parents died last year in a car accident and she's been living with her uncle, Pastor Samson since.

Her cries will haunt my sleep now.

I shut my phone off and swivel in my chair when I hear footsteps.

"Why aren't you in school? Got knocked up already?"

"Go play with your bundle of herpes, Lolita."

I glance up when I don't hear any sound.

"You've been crying, Tequila. What's wrong? Is it that coward, Aaron? Because if it is, I'll tear him to pieces."

"Don't act like you care. Use the fucking door."

She stills and glares at me, her eyes freezing.

"You know the difference between us? There are times when I choose to be civil and am ready to help but you're a bitch two four seven. Come to me when you need a big sister. I'll probably consider helping your sorry ass."

I flip the empty doorway the bird and turn to my phone.

Just as I turn it on, I hear the front door slam shut and look out to see Lolita storming off.

House minus Lolita equals me plus Kingsley.

I jump to my feet and propel my sad body forward. Successfully locking the door, I sigh in relief.

"Come to me when you need a big sister, my foot! When I needed a big sister, she turned her back on me and stayed with the jerk who tried to rape me."

"That was not the greeting I was expecting to hear, but it's nonetheless as interesting. Hi, Rapunzel."

I'm sure I had a cardiac arrest, died and am being forced to relive the moment of my death.

"What the fuck, Aaron!" I snap palming my chest to still my erratic heart.

"What? You called me, spewed that juicy deet and you're acting all surprised? My, my, my Tequila. Were you talking to yourself?"

I snatch my phone from the desk and glare at it, removing it from speaker.

"No, I was talking to the therapist in my nose."

"I'm not surprised." He deadpans.

"What do you want, Aaron?"

"Hey, don't sound so excited. You called me."

"Well it was a mistake. I'll hang up now cause I've got important things to do."

"Ah yes. Talking to your nasal therapist."

"No, Aaron. Finding Faye and seeing how she's doing."

He hums after a long pause, then.

"Did the therapist in your nose suggest that?"

I don't bother saying bye before hanging up.

"Jerk-o-lantern."

"Yes. I just said something totally weird. Tease me about it Aaron. Tease me!"

Half expecting him to pop out of my phone laughing maniacally, I carefully drop it and dance to my wardrobe.

"You can do it, Tequila! You can get Faye to talk. You can help her. You can get justice."

"Maybe it'll be better if I stop talking to myself."

"Although it feels freeing. I'm crazy and I know it. Hoo-hoo!"

~•●•~

"She's in her room. I don't know what's going on, but she hasn't been herself since Friday."

Samson says, pointing at a blue door down the hall.

"It's alright. I think I know what's wrong but I need to see her first." I take two steps before remembering something.

"Hey, Samson. Please get us two tubs of ice cream and a lot of tissues, will you? We'll need them."

He smiles sadly and nods.

"Sure thing, Tequi. Just, help her please."

I inhale once I get to her door and listen for any sound.

I exhale when I hear her sniffles.

Fuck you, Thomas.

"Hey Faye. Mind if I come in?" I say, already pushing the door open.

"Tequila? What are you doing here? Why aren't you at school?"

"I would ask you the same, but I think I have an idea."

She glances up at me from under her wet lashes.

"What are you talking about?"

"The last time I saw you, you told me the story of the good samaritan. You stressed that the wounded man couldn't choose his helper. You said we should all strive to be like the samaritan."

She nods.

"I'm a proud sinner, okay? I'm not close to God like you are. I'm a samaritan. Dear, you've been wounded. Badly, so badly and I'm sorry if you're disappointed that I'm the only one who is able to help right now, but it's what it is. I see you, and I swear, if you let me, I'll do everything in my power to help you heal."

The waterworks begin.

"Oh Tequila, how do I go on? How do I continue after everything? It hurts, right here." She pounds her chest. "It hurts, Tequila. Try as I might, I just cannot let it go. I've thought about finding him, Tequila. I've harboured evil thoughts. I've thought about killing him."

I almost trip as I rush to hug her.

"I said no, so many times. I probably started my day saying no, yet I found myself there and no one helped. Thomas, he just watched. He just— he stood and he said all those vile things... Tequila, I've known Thomas forever and he brought me and just..."

Her sobs are heart wrenching and painful to hear.

"Shhhhh... It's okay. It's going to be okay. It's okay to feel that way. It's okay to want justice. It's all okay."

She continues crying and tears of frustration pool in my eyes.

Why can't I say the right words?

Why can't I pull her out of this slump?

"I'm still in shock you know? I just can't believe this happened to me. I don't understand why. Why me? I have been a faithful Christian. I have put Christ before me every time. I was keeping myself for my husband. Now I have been defiled. Now I feel something dark taking seed in my soul. I used to love reading the bible, Tequila. I used to love sharing my findings with you guys. Now I can't even stand the sight of the crucifix over there." My eyes follow her pointer finger to the crucifix over her door.

"I need to talk to someone, but I don't know what to say. Oh Tequila, I said no. He called me names. He said I liked it. I didn't, Tequila. He injured me. I had to— had to clean myself up. I took pain relievers but they only helped with the physical pain. I find myself spacing out and when I come to, I'm angry and mad and just, sad."

"Then talk to someone, Faye. Please."

"I'm talking to you, am I not?"

I shake my head and lean back a bit.

"No. Talk to someone who can really help you. Talk to someone who can drive this darkness away. I'll be with you every step of the way but that's the only way I can help. I can lend a listening ear and follow you to the person you decide to talk to. Just, please talk to someone."

She nods and let's me move back more.

Why didn't I google how to talk to a victim of sexual abuse and instead talked to myself until my mouth hurt.

"You've always been so happy, sometimes I wanted to hit you just to see you frown for once. You've had to go through so much, so young yet you always wore a smile. It didn't matter that people called you names for your religious beliefs, you loved everyone unconditionally. You know about my lifestyle and my job, yet you never judged me, not even when I refused to listen to your advice. It doesn't matter what someone says about you, the moment they need help, you're always there."

Her sniffles have all stopped now.

"You taught me what it means to be selfless, and although I don't practice it, I admire you so much for that. I admire the person you are. I love how strong you are. How willing and forgiving. How radiant!

Have I ever told you how much I love to hear you sing? You sing like you could take all the burden off our shoulders with one touch. Don't tell Samson, but I actually go to church just to listen to you sometimes. He's dope and his sermons are all amazing but, damn girl, your voice."

She chuckles and wipes her face.

"All I'm saying darling, is this. I might not show it, we all might not show it, but we fucking love and respect you so much. Why do you think we all confide in you when we need to talk to someone?"

"Because you know the only person I'll tell is God?"

I chuckle. "Yes. And we all know God isn't big on gossip."

"If you all love and respect me so much, why did Thomas hand me over to that man?"

I sigh.

"I have no idea, Faye. I don't know why Thomas did that. I wish I did." She nods and wipes a stray tear. "Will you report him?"

"No. I'll talk to Uncle Samson and any therapist he thinks is good. I'll talk, I'll try to heal. I mean, who will you want to hit every day if your rainbow-vomiting unicorn isn't at her best?"

I hug her tight and hate that my tears are ruining her dress.

"You're the person I want to be like one day. You're more gay than happiness! Seeing you unhappy tells me the world is coming to an end."

She laughs and hugs me back.

"I'll tell José. Don't think I won't."

"I also need you to help me with something else." She grabs my hands and pins me with beseeching eyes.

I wipe my tears away. The moment becoming heavy with seriousness.

"Anything, Faye."

"I don't want to tell Uncle Samson the part Thomas played on Friday, so he'll ask questions if I ask him this. I want to talk to Thomas, every day when I'm done with my therapy. Please drop me off at his place until I wish to stop."

I pull back and look into her kind brown eyes.

"Okay, Faye. Okay."

Now I just need to send a death threat to Thomas fucking Gaye, should he even think about doing anything to hurt her.