Status: Finished



I went home thinking my life had changed, but I was wrong. I had no idea what change was yet. I learned two hours later, when I was at home with my parents and someone rang the doorbell. My father went to answer it and came back pale.

“Adam? Are you okay?” my mom asked. He sat down heavily on the couch, staring at a piece of paper. “Who was at the door?” “Nobody....nobody. They left this and ran away,” he mumbled. Then he shook himself and looked at me. “Willa, I want you to tell me this is a fake.”

He almost begged me, holding out a photograph. I felt my stomach drop. It was a picture of me on my knees at school, covered in cracked eggs. I looked devastated. Across the bottom was scrawled, ‘To the Dyke’.

I remembered when that had happened. Someone had brought raw eggs to school and thrown them at me as a joke. My mom saw the picture and gasped. “Willa!” “Dad...I...” My father shook the picture in my face and roared, “Why didn’t you tell us about this!?” My mom looked pissed too.

Suddenly I felt angry. “You never noticed? You never fucking noticed?! I come home from school every day and cry! I haven’t had a friend in years! I would get all sorts of stuff thrown at me, and you never noticed! I hate my school and everything about myself!”

I took a deep breath and yelled, “I fucking cut myself and you don’t even see! You’re never here!” My parents stared at me for a long time until my mom collapsed onto the couch. “Will....Willa, baby...” I burst into tears. “I don’t even think you love me sometimes.” Dad came over and hugged me for the first time in a while.

“Willa, of course we love you. We’re just....not all that good at showing it, I guess. If we knew....” “This is going to stop now, Will. I’m going to your school tomorrow so I can find out exactly why this hasn’t been fixed.” My mom swore, getting up to hug me too. “How long has this been going on?” “Since sixth grade.” I whispered.

“But....why?” I pulled away from them, feeling uncomfortable about what I had to say. “Cause, cause I’m a lesbian. They hate me cause I’m a dyke.” I muttered. “I’m sorry, but I can’t deny who I am anymore.” I expected them to hate me right away, but instead Mom laid a hand on my arm and smiled.

“That’s okay, Will. God doesn’t make mistakes. “But....but....I thought you were against gays! When I kissed Pennylee in sixth grade, you told me girls don’t kiss girls.” “We didn’t want you to be teased, or to get confused. I see we failed at the first one,” my dad said.

“Does David know?” I nodded. “About everything. He used to try and defend me, but it didn’t help much.” “Things are going to change around here, Willa. I promise.”