Misconceive

The wind picked up outside and I could hear the leaves brushing against one another.
swish, swoosh, swoosh, swish.

The sound of the wind and the leaves were all I could concentrate on without instantly losing the thought and bouncing to something else in my mind. I lifted my right hand and ran it though my short brown hair that was basically messy since I didn’t even bother ever brushing it. It was too short to even worry about, unless I had one of those annoying cow licks, then I did whatever I could possibly do to make it go away.

I looked up and examined the room thoroughly. We were in a loft with exposed brick. There was at least twenty-five people crowded into my living room.

Sitting on the couch was my mom, grandma, grandpa, sister, brother and I. Sitting on the two recliners was my Aunt Renee, and my Uncle Mike with their twins, Melissa and Annabelle, on their laps. Sitting on chairs that were brought in from the kitchen were really close family friends and their kids scattered around the floor.

Everything was silent. I couldn’t even really hear my mom breath, and she was sitting right next to me.

As if he read my mind, my grandpa rose from the couch and stood in the center of attention as everyone, including me, looked up and stared at him intently. He cleared his throat and scanned the room, and then cupped his hands together at his belt line.

“Marcus,” he said and then looked towards me and my siblings.

“Your father,” he said and then looked back at the rest of them with sympathetic, teary eyes, and then he spoke again with a frog in his throat. “Marcus, he was… He was found today.”
Marcus Randy Gray. My father. My abusive, ungrateful, homophobic, alcoholic, junkie, inconsiderate asshole father.

He disappeared two months ago, and let me tell you, it has been absolutely blissful without him around., for me, anyway. My mom, brother, and sister have been actually depressed that his appalling presence wasn’t around to loom over us and boss us around.

But maybe that’s because he was only terrible to me. He was only terrible to me because I was gay. He was only terrible to me, because I liked dick instead of vagina.

My family fucking loved his ass because he was absolutely wonderful to them. I bet they never even noticed the lack of food, bruises, and tears that he brought me.

“H-He.. He was found?” My mother’s sweet, innocent voice broke the long silence. You could hear the sadness in her voice in the way that she stuttered, the way that each three words were shaky, and her voice had a demoralizing tone. It made goose bumps flutter up my arms and spine and I scooted away from her slightly.

“Yes, Marie, he was.” My grandpa spoke again, his rough country accent filled my ears and even he had a sad tone in affect with his voice. Why was everyone so god damn sad?

“Where?” My Aunt Renee, my father’s sister, asked. She seemed more shocked then anything.

“Behind the shed behind my work.” My grandpa coughed out.

“He’s dead?” Lucy, my baby sister, asked. She was only 10 but I knew she wasn’t stupid, she knew exactly what was going on and why.

“Yes…” My grandpa answered. Everyone fell silent again and I had my arms on my legs, holding my hands together I looked down passed my legs and to the concrete floor. I could hear the tears filling each person’s eyes and the whimpering that escaped from their lips as they tried not to cry. Then, out of no where, everyone just let it all out. Tears flew from their eyes and it felt like their sobs grabbed a hold of their lips and ripped them apart so that they could get out and into the room.

I just sat there, looking around at everyone bawling their eyes out. Then, my mom put her hand on mine and I looked at her baby blue eyes that were full of nothing but obtuse pain that was already embedded into her life.

“It’s going to be okay, Adam.” Her soft voice told me and I scoffed. I then started to laugh. The looks on everyone’s face told me that there were confused, pissed, overwhelmed and they wanted to know why the hell I was laughing.

“Yeah, I know mom. Everything is going to be perfectly fine because he’s gone.” I spat at her.

“What? Adam? Adam what do you mean?” My mom was taken back, she didn’t understand me.

“He’s just taking it out in a different way, Marie.” My grandpa tried telling her.

“He’s fucking stupid,” My Uncle Mike said to no one in particular.

“I’m sorry that I’m not as sad and depressed as all of you. I’m actually happy that he’s gone.” I said with a wide smile.

“So fucking negligent,” My brother, Lucas, said. I looked at him then with hateful eyes.

“You would be too if that fucking bastard put you through what he did me.” I clenched my hands and rolled my eyes.

“Whatever, Adam.” He said and looked away and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah.” I said and stood up and stormed outside. I was so happy that he was gone. I didn’t have to put his up with judgmental, mean, hatred ways he had against me.

I’m sorry, father, I’m gay. But you deserved what you got, you fucking inconsiderate asshole.

I took a long walk into town, humming happy songs with my lonesome. I was happy. I was really fucking happy, and apparently to my family, my negligence was inappropriate, but they didn’t know what I was put through and they will never know how grateful I was for him being gone now.

Now, I could live my life without being judged for my sexuality by someone I was supposed to look up to; someone that was supposed to love me unconditionally.