Before I Break (3 page)

He sighed a little too dramatically. “I got a call this morning from a family. They apparently need a lawyer, and I’m glad they chose me. I haven’t had a case in almost two months.”

“What is it?” I asked.

Mom looked a little stressed. “Michael, don’t talk about this right now. You know how I feel about this case.”

My Dad glared right back at her. “Honey, get over yourself. We need the money. And besides, as far as I’m concerned, I highly doubt this kid did anything wrong.”

I was too intrigued to try and ignore it. “What happened?”

“There was a murder,” my dad said, placing his newspaper down. Whenever he talked about his cases, he liked to be engaged. “It was some sort of hate crime. It was a young gay kid, seventeen years old. He was killed, and they left him in the in the ditch, and they caught it on camera.”

Oh my God, I thought. “Wait, so why do you think this kid didn’t do it?”

“There was no actual face shown on the camera,” my father went on. “He was wearing a black hoodie and a ski mask, but the family who lost their kid claims they know it was this guy. So his mom called me and requested me to be their lawyer.”

“You’re helping someone get away with murder!” my mom shouted. “Do you not realize how wrong that is?”

My dad shrugged. “In my personal opinion, if this kid really did commit this murder, I don’t know if I can blame him. I mean, the guy was gay. They aren’t like us.”

Mom slammed the pan down and strode over to us. “Enough, Michael. We do not need to have Cyril hearing this.”

“But it’s true. You and I both know it. We have raised Cyril in a very godly life, and the gay community is spreading. No wonder the kid would have committed this murder. We have our children to protect from these abominations.”

“Stop it. Now.” I had never seen my mom as angry as she was right that second. Sure enough, dad quieted and I sat there in silence, wondering what to believe.

My parents did, in fact, raise me as a Christian, and the topic of gays was touched very lightly. My mother was one of those people who believed if you didn’t talk about it, it wouldn’t be there. My dad, on the other hand, loved condemning them like he was Jesus, but this was the first time he had ever gotten involved in a case regarding anyone homosexual.

What did I believe? Well, that was a tough topic for me as well. I thought gays were some of the most disgusting things alive, and I agreed with my father on the fact that they were not like us. But there was another part of me that believed lesbians were perfectly normal, although some people claimed that to be ignorant. But who couldn’t love the perfect body of a woman? Apparently gay men.

A ding came from my laptop at my desk and I stood up to find that I had a message from Avery Branson.

That was not the response I was expecting, and I noticed that he didn’t accept my friend request. Unsure of what to say, I replied with:

It was a few minutes before I got a reply. When my computer dinged again, my heart raced with frustration when I saw his message.

What the hell was his problem? Deciding to just ignore the message, I went back to my bed to lie down and rest my head. I had a lot more problems than just Avery, so I knocked him off my list of things to worry about.

My main problem was with weed. Although I promised to give it up, I could easily admit missing it and missing the high that I felt. I also missed that time with my best friend, and I knew he missed it, too. But if I ever went back to it and Melissa found out, she would dump me for sure. She meant the world to me, and losing her meant losing a part of me. Besides, I knew that I didn’t really like weed and missing the high was just a side effect of an old habit. At that moment I really needed some inspiration so I texted Melissa asking her to come over. Of course, it was getting late, which meant I would have to sneak her inside, but that was okay, we’d done it before.

Not it
. We had never gotten to that, but I did hope to get there soon. And when we did, I was sure that it was going to be perfect.

Melissa didn’t respond to my text message until about seven o’clock, but she agreed that she wanted to see me soon. So we waited until after my parents went to sleep, then I told her to head on over. I lived on the second floor of my house and I had an emergency ladder that I kept outside my window for her whenever she came over sometimes.

While sitting on my bed, I couldn’t get my father’s case out of my head. A young gay male, dead, murdered, all because of his sexuality. Even though I hated gays, I couldn’t get the visual of him dying out of my head. I thought that maybe it was because death in general was bad, but a lot of times there was a good reason. Was being gay a good enough reason to be killed? I thought maybe so, because the Bible said it was an abomination, and who could disagree with that? It wasn’t natural. They couldn’t reproduce. They couldn’t have sex except in ways I would rather not think about. They walked around like fairy princesses, waving their gayness around like a penis. With those things in mind, I realized them being killed was probably a good idea.

Our pastor in our church once said that the United States was getting a gay explosion—that there were more gay people in the world now than there ever was before. He told us he believed that Satan, the Great Deceiver, was getting into everyone’s heads, creating this overgrowth like a fungus that wouldn’t go away.

You saw it on the news all the time—these gay parades, the legalization of their marriage and adoptions—and Pastor Morrison said that it all had to do with sin. So much sin was being spread across the world that we were reaching the End Times and God would unleash his wrath when the right time came. He said the homosexuals were the cause of it all, and who couldn't agree with that? We had seen more floods, hurricanes, and tsunamis since the explosion occurred.

So maybe my father had a good reason. Maybe it was true to believe that maybe things were meant to be this way.

But wasn’t murder punishable by God?

When Melissa arrived, I opened the window for her to climb on through. She gave me a quick kiss and plopped down on my bed, smiling at me greatly. “How was your first day?” she asked me.

“Fantastic,” I replied, smiling back as I lay next to her. “All the parts when you were around me.” And that was not a lie in the least.

“So what was up with Jake?” she asked. “He was very unlike himself today.”

Was she seriously trying to have this discussion? “Can we talk about something else? I don’t really feel like talking about the downfalls of my best friend.”

Melissa got a text but ignored it. “Okay, let’s talk.”

“Are you going to get that?” I asked.

Melissa shook her head. “I know who it is already.”

“What is it, babe?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it; it’s not a big deal.”

“No,” I said, “tell me. What’s wrong?”

Melissa sighed and looked as if she were about to cry. “You know my best friend, Christian? He’s moving this week. Going to Nevada to be in school there.”

And that was the bomb that I was expecting. For weeks, Christian had been telling Melissa that his family was thinking about moving because he got made fun of a lot here for being gay—even I didn’t put up with him. Whenever he was around, I just ignored him because I always saw him staring at my butt, which made me want to punch him in the face. The weird thing about Christian, though, was the girl clothes he so thoroughly enjoyed wearing, and it personally made me want to vomit. Trying to hide my excitement about the news, I didn’t say a word. As if Melissa already knew, she glared.

“What?”

She hit me, half playfully, half seriously. “You’re happy he’s leaving.”

I shrugged. “He wasn’t really my friend.”

Melissa jumped off of the bed, looking down at me angrily. The bitch switch definitely just went off. “Yeah, and you don’t think I know why? You hate him.”

I really had been trying to avoid this conversation with her, but it was the truth. I did hate Christian, though I was never going to admit to that. “He’s just not really the type of guy I’d hang out with,” I reasoned.

“Mhm,” she mumbled sarcastically. “It’s because he’s gay, right?”

“Of course not,” I lied. Damn it, this was not where I wanted the night to go.

“Then what is it? You won’t even speak to the guy, so how can you hate him this badly?” Melissa was on a roll. She wasn’t just mad, she was pissed.

“Fine,” I admitted. “I don’t like gay people, what do you expect? I can’t even begin to look at a gay person, knowing that God hates—”

“Oh no,” she said, wagging her finger like I was a dog. “Not even close. Do not try to blame God and the Bible for your sick judgment. This is all you, Cyril, and it’s kind of pathetic. I am fully, 100% Christian and do not believe half the shit that comes out of people’s mouths, so enough with that. This is your prejudice, not God’s.” Walking to the window, she said, “Don’t bother to speaking to me for a while. I need to think.”

Before I could say anything, she was gone. I didn’t understand how she could be so blinded by the lies she was being fed, and it actually made me sad. Feeling sick to my stomach, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes, trying to block out the argument with Melissa so I could get some sleep. I would need it for the morning.