Would You Hate Me?

[Rootbeerpants]

“Dad! I’m home!”

((Helena Colt continued from The Photonegative Girl))

Helena’s voice echoes out through the house as she steps inside, kicking the door closed behind her and wincing at how loud the noise is. Kicked it too hard again. After a few moments of waiting and not getting a response Helena sighs and walks through the living room into the kitchen, throwing her bag down on the couch on the way past. She pops the fridge open while sending off a quick text to her dad so he knows she got home safe. Hopefully he’ll be back before she goes to bed tonight. Hospitals been busier lately.

After grabbing a bottle of water Helena bumps the fridge closed with her hip. Or tries to anyway. After it swings back open in defiance she just sighs in frustration before closing it normally and heading back to the living room and flipping down onto the leather couch. School was exhausting today. Not just for the usual reasons either. Helena can already feel her heart beat starting to speed up again as she remembers her visit to the library. It took about ten minutes after she’d left the library for her to be sure it wasn’t a dream. Still probably shouldn’t get lost in thoughts of that again. God knows it’s been on her mind long enough today. Helena takes a swig of her water and shuffles her hoodie off of her shoulders. It’s way too hot to be wearing this honestly but t-shirts don’t do a great job of hiding you away from the world when you feel like shit. As Helena leaned back on the couch though her eyes met with the shelf under her tv.

Moms shelf.

It’s been four years since that became her home. Since that black urn with her name written in white was placed there. Dad put mom’s old camera and photo album up on either side of the urn soon afterwards. A couple of old photos are framed and placed on the shelf too, showing all three of them in various stages of life. Mom holding Helena as a baby. Dad and Mom trying to teach Helena to ride a bike. Her thirteenth birthday party. Good times. Better times. Helena squeezes her eyes shut, trying to force the memories out of her head. This wasn’t the thing she wanted to replace the days obsession with. But try as she might those memories still come flooding in. Why does this never get easier? Why can’t she just move on?

Helena blinks her eyes back open, once again staring at the jar of dust that was her mom. Well since she can’t stop the thoughts…might as well talk. Her dad talks to the urn a lot. Usually at night when he thinks Helena’s asleep. Her therapist suggested maybe she should try it too. See if it helps. She’s tried a few times before but it’s…hard. Talking to whatever’s left of someone you love and pretending they’ll hear it. Still…worth another try.

“Hey mom. I um…I miss you. Still. You probably know that. But um…I made some friends finally. Just like you wanted me to. You’d like em. Well…I think anyway. You’d definitely like Abby. She’s supportive and really polite and doesn’t even care if you make her buy a cake cause you’re stupid and walk into a shelf!” Helena laughed a little, though it didn’t come out as happy as she wanted it too. “Uh…Rozlyn though…well you might go all protective mother on her. I still remember you and dad sitting me down to talk about boys the day after I turned thirteen and…” The thought hits Helena in a way she hasn’t expected. She never told her mom. Never told her she’s gay. Would…would she be okay with that? It’s hard to imagine her mother not being supportive but…she’s heard the stories online. Seen the posts. Would her mother hate her? She might have. Helena will never know.

Helena stared silently at the urn for a while. The wave of lost moments and chances washing over her. The what could have beens. The gnawing thought that her mother could have hated her. The person she cared for most in the world. No no she wouldn’t have. She couldn’t have. Right? She would have been supportive. I mean dad…dads never talked about it. Helena hasn’t told him either. Would he hate her? If she brought Rozlyn home would he kick her out? Helena can feel tears starting to well up in her eyes at the thought. Maybe she’s in over her head. Maybe this Rozlyn thing was a mistake. She should have said no. She should have-

Helena’s thoughts are cut off by the sudden explosion of water from her hand. She’d gotten so lost in her thoughts she forgot she was holding it and clenched her hand too hard. With a silent curse Helena hopped up from the couch, running to the kitchen to put her now half empty water bottle on the counter and grab some paper towels. After wiping down her leg and shorts as much as she could Helena rushed back to clean the couch and carpet. That was stupid. Not surprising though. Being stupid seems to just be her favourite pass time. Once Helena was done cleaning up her mess she grabbed what was left of her water from the kitchen along with her backpack and started heading upstairs to her room before stopping on the first step and looking back at the shelf. At the urn.

“…I’m gay mom. I hope that’s okay.”

With that she went back up the stairs, pulling out her phone with her free hand as a text message comes through.

((Helena Colt continued in Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood))