Dégoûtante
They’re going straight to hell.. My mother had said, eyes looking straight at the two girls across the street in front of us. They were standing by the movie theatre entrance, bodies close, eye to eye, lips almost touching. My mother looked disgusted. She steered me away from the theatre and we walked in the direction of home.
I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Sylvie, but don’t you ever let me catch you sneaking about with some girl. Her large dark eyes peered down at me, her hand squeezing my small hand in hers until I felt the tingle of pain and cringed. I nodded quickly, my young brain unsure.
That was years ago, and I had sat with my brother, Jean, looking across the street to where a moving van was being unpacked the next day, watching a small girl and her mother as they looked around. For a period of time they watched the movers pull large furniture inside, and my young mind buzzed. I thought we would be great friends, best of friends really. The girl spotted us and smiled, waving a hand above her head in greeting. I smiled and waved back quickly, Jean rolled his eyes and though I didn’t even know this girl, I felt drawn to her.
It was years and years before my mother decided the girl could not have anything to do with our family. My mother told me she was disgusting because she had seen her with a girl one day. I tried to see the repulsiveness in her copper-gold curls and light olive green-yellow eyes but I could not. Again and again my mother told me of the hell that awaited her and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted everything to do with her.
I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Sylvie, but don’t you ever let me catch you sneaking about with some girl. Her large dark eyes peered down at me, her hand squeezing my small hand in hers until I felt the tingle of pain and cringed. I nodded quickly, my young brain unsure.
That was years ago, and I had sat with my brother, Jean, looking across the street to where a moving van was being unpacked the next day, watching a small girl and her mother as they looked around. For a period of time they watched the movers pull large furniture inside, and my young mind buzzed. I thought we would be great friends, best of friends really. The girl spotted us and smiled, waving a hand above her head in greeting. I smiled and waved back quickly, Jean rolled his eyes and though I didn’t even know this girl, I felt drawn to her.
It was years and years before my mother decided the girl could not have anything to do with our family. My mother told me she was disgusting because she had seen her with a girl one day. I tried to see the repulsiveness in her copper-gold curls and light olive green-yellow eyes but I could not. Again and again my mother told me of the hell that awaited her and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted everything to do with her.