Fault Line

I walked into my home, breathing in the fresh lavender smell flowing from a candle. I smiled as I set my white backpack down in front of the door and kicked off my shoes, hearing my mothers talking. I followed their voices and found them in the living room, sitting in their chairs as they caught up on their favorite TV show. The wooden floor creaked beneath my feet as I took a seat on our beige couch, sinking into the soft fabric. I turned to the TV, and recognized Say Yes to the Dress, watching two lesbians try to pick between beautiful wedding dresses.

"Hi, baby girl! How was school?" Mom asked. To differentiate each one, I call one mother Mom, and the other is Mommy. Jane, with her soft strawberry blonde hair and light green eyes, was Mom. Kelly, with her striking blue eyes and flowing brown hair, was Mommy. I inherited the green eyes from Mom and the brown hair from Mommy. 'A perfect combination' they always described me.

"Boring," I sighed, stretching my arms out. They both shared a glance, smirking. I remembered my thoughts from today in class and immediately began shaking. I tried to control my breathing, for I get anxiety easily. My mothers both knew when I was getting anxiety, they just always had an inclination when I did. I tried to pull it off, taking out my phone, and sending a quick text to my friend. Before I knew it, my hands were shaking too much and thoughts were overcrowding my mind. My phone slipped from my sweaty palms and I could hear the glass smash onto the floor. Fat tears ears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't breathe, I smashed my phone, made a huge scene, and I could be straight.

Their heads snapped toward me and immediately ran over. I let out sobs and began to hyperventilate. Why couldn't I just be normal? Mommy helped me up while Mom picked up my phone, gasping at the new found cracks. Mommy grasped my hand and lead me into the kitchen. She still acted as if I was still young sometimes even though I'm 17. I hate being treated like a toddler, but there's no point in fighting it. She set me onto a wooden chair by the table and wiped away my salty tears.

"I can't breathe," I gasped. I took in huge gulps of air, only two sentences running through my mind: I can't get enough air. I need more air.

She hurried to the sink, pouring a glass of water before running back to me. She held the glass to my lips. "Sip," she ordered, and I obeyed. "Now, slow your breathing hunny. It's okay, I promise."

Even though my brain was telling me I needed more air, I slowed my breathing until I reached a normal pace. Mom walked in, kneeling down beside me. She ran a hand through my hair and kissed me on the cheek. Tears were still coming from my eyes, but they had slowed greatly. My whole body felt like jello, and I just wanted to sleep. After a few minutes of just sitting there, Mom wiped my tears away and asked me gently what was wrong.

"Can I tell you two something? And will you promise not to be mad?" At this point, I needed to get what happened in class out. I felt like I was hiding a huge secret and the guilt weighed on my shoulders like a boulder. Besides, they weren't going to stop bothering me until they found out the root of my recent episode.

"We promise." They said in unison. I took a deep breath, swallowed, and sat up straight.

"In class today... we were looking at male body parts. Everyone was saying how disgusting it was, and hardly even looked. But I... I didn't think it was all the bad, you know? I thought that maybe..." I couldn't finish, but they already knew anyway. They shared a glance, speaking with their eyes as they always did.

"Honey, it's just a phase. Don't you worry, it will all be over soon. Every girl goes through it. I know it's hard, but you have to trust me."

And for once in my life, I couldn't.