Episode 1

My name is Maxine but I go by Max. My story starts at the

end of August one week before school starts. We had all just sat down for

dinner when I decided to bring up the topic my health class gave us for

homework this summer. It was to take in information from different types of

couples same gender or not. So I had told my mom about it and she continued for

the entire time of dinner about how she loves Paul and how he was the best

thing that ever happened to her. Eventually Grace got tired and was ready for

bed, Paul took her upstairs to her room to read her a bedtime story. I figured

it was a perfect time to bring up same sex/gender couples now that it was just

me and mom. She however was not so please of this topic change. “Why do you care

about that?” she asked almost sounding disgusted by the fact of it. “Well I took

some time thinking about it and for a long time I have liked girls too mom. And

I know that being bisexual is who I am and I don’t need to change.” I told her twiddling

my fingers. She turns towards me her face turning red. She rummages through an old

cupboard under the china cupboard. She turns towards me. “TAKE IT AND GET

OUT!" yells a thundering voice coming from my mom I thought I once knew

her arm raised with an envelope in her hands. "WE DON"T NEED A

DISGRACE LIKE YOU IN MY FAMILY!" she continues. I just stare at her from

across the room surprised. In all of my life I had never seen her act like

that. "God..." she mumbles beneath her breath gazing down at the

hardwood floor lowering the envelope placed in her hand.”Paul was right, you

aren't normal you have "his" blood." she states

looking directly into my eyes for the first time since dinner. "Why, why

couldn't you be more like Grace? She's normal and then there's just you."

she says. 'I'm me and if that isn't good enough for you maybe I should just

leave, Paul never liked me anyway and in no way has he ever helped me as a

father. And don't even get me started on Grace. You only like her because she

has yours and Paul's genes and I'm here with “his" genes. How

when you look at Grace you can smile because she’s not like me, you don’t have

to see the man who walked out on you after he found out you were pregnant even

after you gave up everything for him. But the problem is I’m me and I can’t

change who I am. I am me. I’m not the one who walked out on you but of course

you wouldn’t understand. How could you? Every time you see me you look past who

I am and simply look at the part of me that represents him. I know your done

and so am I, I’ll leave tonight but don’t contact me after Paul does the same

thing to you and life repeats itself. Oh and do me a favor and don’t do this to

Grace, she deserves better and is still too young to understand.” I say walking

closer and snatching the envelope from the woman I once had called my mother.

She falls down and gazes up at me with tears in her eyes. I avoid her gaze looking

away and acting as though she is nothing but a stranger to me. Because from now

onwards that’s what we would be. I walk past her and gaze around the old but

warm house I had grown up in. I take a short gaze in the kitchen staring around

capturing the image and burning it into my mind until it only exists in my memories

now. The old oak wood cupboards, the white gas light stove, the white marble tile

floor cold to the touch, the refrigerator covered in Graces finger paint projects.

All of this burned into my mind as well as the strong smell of apple cinnamon pie

that lurked among the air. Passing the kitchen gazing around the dining room where

we had my first thanksgiving dinner. The two vanilla scented candles lit giving

off a cozy vibe placed atop the birch wood table. Yet a dark brown table top

covers the light birch wood. I dash through the house, past the living room

with old leather smell coming from the couches, past the newly placed red

fluffy rug up the old creaky stairs with a green carpet installed on them. My

bare feet race up the stairs almost fast enough to feel the rug burn my skin,

almost. I dash towards my room, dull and plain. Probably the plainest room in

the entire house. The walls are white and I never cared much for such things as

putting up posters and hanging up medallions. Sure I was smart and admired but didn’t

care for that sort of thing. I was basically a puppet played by my so called

mom who would choose the courses I was to go into. I go to my bed linen striped

and being cleaned made it a lot easier to get in between the mattress and box

spring. This was where I kept the things precious to me, that way they wouldn’t

be found and taken away. I grab the only surviving picture of my father left in

the entire house as well as what looks like a small shoe box but flatter. I

stuff them both into my hiking backpack, which conveniently already has a

sleeping bad and linen wrapped and attached at the bottom of it I grab my

clothes which wasn’t much but just enough for about a week and a half without

needing to be cleaned. And lastly I grab some non-perishable food items and a

couple water bottles. I unzip the pocket to my jacket and stuff the envelope

inside of it, just barley fitting into it. I walk down the stairs slower now. Touching

the rail in hope it could become a lasting memory. I marched to the tall, now

rusting from over the year’s door and I pull up my tall army boots and twist

the door knob. Only stopping for a second to look back at what now is only the

past. I turn around and swing the door open. “I Maxine am starting a new life,

in a new town, a new house and going to go into grade 11 with high spirits.” I

smile, being freed from that fake family. I walk up to the curb and call for a

taxi. As the taxi pulls up and I heave open the door and hop in he asks, “Where

to?”  “Chicago’s airport please.” I tell him with a

half curved smile. And that, was where my story began.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***