The Gift of Acceptance

It’s December. It’s December, and my parents want me to come home for Christmas, preferably with my ‘boyfriend’. Except, I have a girlfriend, not a boyfriend, and my parents are Catholic. Yeah, this isn’t anything to worry about at all.

“Grace, if you stress any more, you’ll give yourself gray hairs,” Laura says as she spins around in her chair.

I chuckle. “I thought you liked the idea of watching me go gray.”

“Yeah, when we’re little old ladies knitting sweaters for the grandkids,” Laura counters with a soft smile.

I stand, walking over to her and pulling her to her feet. “What would I do without you?” I ask.

Laura rests a hand on my cheek. “Probably die from exhaustion once all of your homework is due the next day, and you procrastinated all week.”

I sigh. “Of course, that’s what you assume would happen. I do have some sort of self-preservation you know.”

“Hmm, I haven’t seen it yet,” Laura teases.

“Because I have you.” I kiss her softly.

We pull apart, staying forehead to forehead. “We should probably pack,” Laura says.

“Details, details.” Even as I say it, I’m turning away and walking towards my dresser. Opening one of the drawers, I glance up and look at myself in the mirror. “It’s going to be fine,” I mutter. I grab some clothes and turn to put them in my bag. “It’s going to be fine.”

~*~

It’s not going to be fine. My mother is already glaring suspiciously at the two of us, and I can see my sister duck towards her room before Mom can begin her tirade. Luckily, Dad wasn’t home yet, so I didn’t have to deal with his “my way or the highway” attitude at the moment as well as Mom’s. “I thought you were bringing home your boyfriend,” Mom says with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I said, I was bringing home my significant other, and here she is. Mom, this is Laura, Laura, Mom,” I say.

“Hmpf.” Mom didn’t seem impressed. “Well, you’re here, so make yourself at home.” She turns away and marches back into the kitchen while I lead Laura to the guest room.

“I'm sorry,” I say after closing the door behind us, taking the very temporary opportunity to have a private moment with Laura. “I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have brought it up.”

Laura places a finger against my lips, and I quiet. “This isn't your fault,” she says. “It was going to happen eventually and to be honest, it could have been a lot worse.”

I nod. “You're right.”

“I always am.”

I laugh, wrapping my arms around her and rubbing my cheek against her shoulder.

A soft knock at the door alerts us before the door cracks open. My sister poked her head in. “Mom says to keep the door open,” she says.

“Got it. How are you doing, Hope?”

“Eh, not bad,” Hope answers. “Glad to be on break though.”

“Me too, kid. Anyway, this is my girlfriend Laura.”

“Hello.” Hope waves. “What are you studying?” She asks.

“Astrophysics,” Laura answers, beginning to unpack her things.

“Really? That's so cool!” Hope bounces over and helps Laura unpack, asking questions the entire time.

~*~

Dinner is officially one of the most awkward meals of all time. Laura is sitting across from me beside Hope who is silently picking at her food. I could tell that dinner didn't meet Hope’s approval, but I am thankful that she isn't making a fuss over it.

Dad is sitting at the other end of the table, looking between Laura and I as if unsure how to address it. He appears to have settled on ignoring it for the time being, but that is hardly comforting.

And so the meal passes, in absolute silence. It is only after we are finished eating that Dad decides to begin his interrogation.

“So you're leasbians?” He begins.

“I am,” Laura says carefully, looking at me as she spoke. “Grace is bisexual.”

“I'm attracted to both men and women,” I add.

“So you lied to your mother about having a boyfriend…”

“I believe I used the words significant other which is distinctly gender neutral.”

“And you fail to inform us when we assume incorrectly? That is the same thing as a lie, Grace. I raised you better.” Dad stands up from the table and walks into his room, slamming the door behind him.

I nod my head, face tight, before standing and walking outside. The night air is crisp against my skin as I stand underneath the stars, looking up at them as if they held the answers to my problems.

Laura comes outside and stands beside me.

She wraps an arm around my shoulders. I turn so that I am pressed up against her chest, her chin resting on my head as she rubs my back. “Why can't they just accept us?” I ask quietly. A tear runs down my face and into the fabric of her jacket.

Laura doesn't answer.

~*~

Christmas morning dawns bright and early. Laura and I greet each other as we pass in the hallway before retreating to our respective rooms to await my parents as per family tradition. It is only just eight o’clock when my parents come down the hallway.

“Ready, girls?” Dad asks.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Hope bounces around in a circle. Laura and I laugh, exchanging fond smiles which do not go unnoticed by my dad as he raises an eyebrow in my direction.

Dad leads us down the hallway and into the living room where presents are stacked underneath the tree, and Hope has a stack of unwrapped gifts from Santa waiting for her. Hope begins rifling through her stack, gasping over new toys and books.

Dad begins to pass out presents once Hope has ceased her preliminary exploration of her initial gifts. He picks up a box wrapped carefully in Star Wars wrapping paper and passes it to me.

Dad doesn't say a word, and I set the gift in my lap, reading the tag aloud, “To Grace and Laura, from Mom and Dad.” Laura and I look at each other, and Laura squeezes my hand. I unwrap it and then open the box. Inside is single piece of paper. The words “We accept you, and we’re sorry”  were written on the paper.

My hand covers my mouth as I sniff slightly. “Thank you,” I whisper, looking at my parents. “Thank you.”

AN: This was written for the Sims Short Story Challenge. This month's theme was Gift and my word count is 1082 words with 7 screenshots

Let's Procrastinate!

100 more words. Just 100 more words.

It’s a chant, a mantra. It’s something that I am constantly repeating during the month of November. Because November is NaNoWriMo, and I am one of the many fools who believe that they are writers and then decide to prove that claim by writing an insane amount of words in just 30 days. What am I thinking?
100 more words. Just 100 more words

The first year, it was fairly easy. 15,000 words in 30 days was a daunting task to the thirteen year-old who took three years to write 15,000 words before than. So, in I plunged, and 25 days later, I achieved my goal. The tale I spun was still incomplete (It still is), but it was full of possibilities. The world was created by my own hands, and I found I could build even further after that month. My characters took over by 7,000 words, but later I found them shallow and two-dimensional. And so I rewrote them, expanded upon them, until I could tell you who they are.

100 more words. Just 100 more words.

The second year was a little rougher. 20,000 words was my goal this time. I decided to rewrite that book that took me three years to write 15,000 words of. My characters and plot were already there, this should have been a breeze. Instead, I found myself starting it at least five separate times, and my plot got thrown out the window when my main character informed me that she was a lesbian. Day 30, I wrote 5,000 words worth of initiation and membership rituals which repeated the same format throughout, so I kind of cheated. But the important thing was that I had succeeded in my goal.

100 more words. Just 100 more words.

Third year. I pledged to write 30,000 words. My story created an entirely new world separate from our own. Fairies of all kinds flittered through it, and I was excited to write this story. It ended up, not only being told from my main character’s point of view, but her foster father’s and sister’s as well. Then of school, life and procrastination got in the way, leaving me with 10,000 words to write on the last day. I succeeded. 11:38 PM on November 30, I won. 10,000 completely unique words were written that day, and I swore never to let that happen again.

100 more words. Just 100 more words.

Then, there’s this year. I have taken my story into the afterlife and investigated my image of Heaven as well as my feelings towards it. What resulted was a lonely, sarcastic main character who just wanted to do something other than sit there for eternity in a never-changing place. As I write this, I have seven days left. My goal is 40,000 words. I have written a grand total of 8,856 words. Hehe, oops. To be honest I blame school, and the fact that I am not motivated outside of school.

100 more words. Just 100 more words.

More like…

1,000 more words. Just 1,000 more words.

This was written for the Sims Short Story Challenge. The prompt was 100. Hopefully y'all enjoyed.
Word Count: 532
Screenshot Count: 12

End of an Era

We are gathered here today to remember Jamie Simons, a proud father, grandfather, and husband. Jamie was a drag queen with a unique genetic mutation to conceive and carry his own children. He moved to Newcrest with the goal of having a hundred of those children be born in his family, whether by him or by his heirs. He is succeeded by his seventeen children, fourteen grandchildren, thirteen great-grandchildren, and his husband.

The Simons' Family Tree

I Promise

This, this couldn’t be happening. It’s impossible. We were so careful. It’s just late, that’s all. It’s been six weeks. That’s not late…. It could still show up.

I took a deep breath, staring at myself in the mirror. Do you really believe that?

“Ida! You’re going to be late!”

I jerk slightly, glancing at the clock and finding to my horror that my mother was quite correct in her assessment. I bolted for the door, barely remembering my book-bag in my haste to catch the bus.

I spent the bus ride reading the assigned reading for my English class. When the bus finally pulled up to the school, a broad grin spread across my face when I saw the familiar leather jacket standing in the middle of a group of girls who had yet to get the message that Dean Winchester was mine and mine alone.

You do realize he moves a lot right? How many other girls thought that despite being short flings along his path? Shut up. He’s mine at the moment.

“Hey, Dean,” I said, giving him  a short kiss.

“Hello, Ida.” Dean smirked at me, cupping my face with his hand. He took my books from me, and together we walked to our first class, leaving the group of girls sighing in disappointment. All thoughts of being late vanished from my mind as I simply enjoyed being with Dean.

****

I put my head in my heads, still holding the test stick of doom. How am I going to explain this to my parents? How am I going to tell Dean? Told you so, but no, you had to pretend everything was sunshine and rainbows.

I took a deep breath, straightening up and looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It’s okay. You’ve got this. You just need to walk out there, open your mouth, and tell them. Who knows, maybe they’ll be really excited to be grandparents. Sunshine and rainbows again.

I stepped out of the bathroom, lurking in the doorway that led to the kitchen and observing my parents calmly drink their morning coffee and read the morning paper. Stepping fully into the kitchen, I licked my lips nervously. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence. “You’re what?” my mother asked, eyebrows raised as she look at me questioningly over her coffee mug.

“I’m pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, I know you did not just say what I thought you said.” My father stood, a dark look on his face.

“I did though.” My voice seemed quiet, timid, even to my ears.

“I thought you were better than this, Ida!” I flinched away from my father’s roar. Told you so. Again. “You’ve ruined your life! Do you really believe that you’ll do well in school with a child on the way? What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I whimpered.

“Sorry’s not good enough!”

I turned and bolted for my room.

“And don’t think you’re going to keep it. Once it’s born, it’s gone!”

****

Dean was gone. He wasn’t at school today, or yesterday, or the day before that. He hadn’t been there for a few weeks now.

I stared at my phone for a long time before I finally, slowly, dialed the number that would set my baby’s fate in stone.

“Hello?”

“Dean? This is Ida.”

“Oh, hey, Ida.” Dean’s voice was awkward, proving what I had suspected. He had already moved on with his life.

“Look, I know you’ve probably moved on already, but there’s something you need to know.”

“What is it?”

“I’m pregnant with your baby.” I closed my eyes, waiting for the blow up.

“Shit.” Well, that was a pretty accurate representation of my mood. “Are you going to keep it?”

“I’m going to give birth, yes, but my parents won’t let me raise it. If you don’t take it, it’ll be placed for adoption or going into foster care.”

“Hang on a second.”

I waited. Five, ten minutes, listening to the muffled voices on the other end of the phone until Dean’s voice came back. “When are you due? We’ll pick the baby up when it’s born.”

I smiled despite the soft sob of relief and grief that escaped me. “About six months. Around the beginning of June, end of May.”

“I’ll be there.”

****

This was it. The first and last time I would ever see my daughter. My father was the one who took me to the hospital on the 3rd of June. He stood there, watching me say hello and goodbye to my daughter before he let Dean into the delivery room.

“That’s your daughter now. We don’t want to have anything to do with her after this moment. We’ve already filled out the paperwork. My father pointed at the bed where my daughter was sleeping in. “Take her and never come back.” He gave the two of us one last glare before he left us alone.

“Her name’s Autumn,” I whispered. “Take care of her. Please.” I looked up from my clasped hands and stared into Dean’s green hazel eyes.

“I will. I promise.”

Lots Used

• High School by c0rreen
• Tudor Bungalow by Maxis
• Motel Room by Raven_Cat2000 (Me)

This was written for September's Short Story Challenge Theme of Late. This was inspired by a Supernatural fanfiction idea of Dean having a pre-teen/teenage daughter during the series. Timeline wise this is set in about 1996 for the show. Anything recognizable as Supernatural belongs to the creators of Supernatural.

A Broken Curse

She always said that there was someone special out there for me and me alone. She never told me who though. “You’ll know when you find them,” she said with a sly smile. “No matter how many lifetimes it may take you to find them.”

Lifetimes? I always wondered about that. How could it take lifetimes when I only had one life? Her answer was always a small, knowing smile as she shook her head at me fondly.

My job took me away from Willow Creek where I was born to the old town of Widenburg. The countryside was vastly different than from that of Willow Creek, more earth-toned rather than spring-like. It was lovely there with the faint chill in the air, and I quickly settled in.

It was several weeks before I noticed her. She, the one who was always in the corner of my eye now that I thought about it, seemed to be following me around the town. I’d see her when I left for work in the morning, when I grabbed lunch at the coffee shop, when I returned my books at the library. Somehow, she was always there, watching silently.

She was an exotic darkness to my fire, and I found myself being drawn to the mysterious woman. “May I sit here?” I asked.

The woman tilted her head, steepling her fingers. “You may,” she responded in a cultured and guarded voice as if afraid of being burned.

I sipped at my coffee in the silence. “What’s your name?”

The woman seemed to smile a bit, reminiscent-like. “Nitya,” she said. “May I inquire as to yours?”

“Seraphine.”

Nitya’s eyes widened for a split second. It happened so fast that I was sure that I had been seeing things.

That was the start of a beautiful friendship. Nitya was calm, collected, soothing to my fire, a yin to my yang. She belonged by my side, and I by hers.

Our friendship was what led to a walk along the beach on the island. It was originally a celebration of my promotion, but it turned into something more. Something neither of us could find the will to regret.

We fell into place, two puzzle pieces woven together in a tapestry that no one could see. My guardian would follow us, a grin on her face and a glimmer in her eyes.

In the weeks we were together, I had never set foot in Nitya’s house, but one day, she requested that I did. “I have to tell you something,” she said. “I have to show you something.”

I followed her up the path to a cottage. It was small but cozy. Warm colors were scattered throughout it, but Nitya didn’t stop in any of the rooms. She led me to a passageway and down the stairs hidden there into a basement, or rather, it was a memorial. A memorial to me, but as I stepped closer, I realized, I couldn’t be this woman grinning in these photographs. Some where taken centuries ago. I turned to Nitya, expecting her to laugh, to claim it was a joke.

Nitya looked right through me, staring at the photographs on the wall with the urns beneath them. “I’m immortal,” she said.

I wanted to laugh. I didn’t. The pain in her eyes told me that this was very real. Nitya stood beside me and pointed at each picture. “Alice, Freya, Victoria, Kim, Jacklyn, Fiona, Louise, Georgia, Margaret, Daisy, Shade.” Names of lost loves. My eyes filled with tears involuntarily. Than Nitya pointed to the first picture, this one a painting. “And Seraphine.”

“They all look like me,” I whispered.

Nitya nodded. “They are you. I have been waiting for so long, loving each reincarnation of my original love,” she said, turning to me with a fierce look in her eyes. “And now, I have her again. My Seraphine.” She reached out and cupped my cheek with her hand.

Wonder filled her eyes as she looked at me as if I was the most precious thing in the world to her. She knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring. My mind flashed to a similar scene that wasn’t a memory but was at the same time. “Will you marry me at long last, my Summer love?”

“Of course,” I said, taking the ring and putting it on my finger. Tears streamed down Nitya’s face as we kissed.

“My love for the Summer, my love forever,” Nitya whispered with a smile through her tears.

“The curse is broken at long last,” my guardian breathed as a mysterious wind ruffled my hair. “May you finally live beyond the Summer, Seraphine.”

AN: This was written for the Short Story Challenge. The theme was Summer Love, and this story was inspired by a Tumblr post about dating an immortal and finding out their previous loves were previous reincarnations of you. It has 779 words and 9 screenshots