Gravity Read Online Free PDF Page A

if Josh’s presence still lurks on the other side. I
don't sense him. Opening the bathroom door, I see Josh sitting on
the floor, in the shadows. He has his arms resting on his knees,
his face an undefinable in the dark.
    My clothes are just outside the
bathroom, so I grab them and dress. I leave the bathroom while
Josh's eyes follow me. I decide that staying here will be wrong, so
I grab my backpack and leave.

Chapter Four
     
    Gabriel
     
    I'm relieved to see my stepfather's truck
in the driveway. Garden cherubs and flowers make the house look
innocent enough for anyone to call home—not me. This place holds
hurtful memories.
    Walking into
the house, more religious angels, crosses and Jesus invade every surface. This isn't my
home. My God fearing mother believes heart and soul that I'm not
her son, but something evil. Often spitting random prayers under
her breathe when I'm in the house. There have been multiple
incidences she'd invited priests over to exorcise me. She claims
I'm possessed with demons. I remember vividly at eight years old,
strapped to a chair as they poured holy water and shoved crosses in
my face assuming it would drive out whatever was inside of
me.
    At this point
in my life, I wish my mother
was right. If only the burden could be removed. I know it’s my
fault. She feels and thinks unnatural things for me. Unnatural
schizoid thoughts about your son will lead you to think he's a
demon. Maybe I am. I don't feel bad for her. I don't feel anything
for her. She’s ignored what has been happening under her roof with
me for years; things that cannot be undone.
    I'm older now, coming and going as I
please. I'm rarely home. If an unfamiliar car is in the driveway
then I have to find another place to sleep for the night. Tonight I
have nowhere to sleep.
    My mother immediately starts her praying
ritual, following me around the house at a safe distance, splashing
holy water, holding her rosary tight enough to leave an impression
in her palm. My foot hits the stairs and she backs away. She never
follows. She knows the devil's room is
upstairs.
    My bedroom is peaceful without her
presence, but it still isn't what I'd call heaven. Terrible things
happened to me there. Things that happened in my bed are the worst;
I’ll never sleep in it again. The nest of dingy pillows and
unwashed blankets on the floor is my new bed, but even the floor is
tainted.
    My stepfather loathes me, wishing I was
more like Daniel, my older brother, but it didn’t stop him from
comparing my beautiful eyes to my
brother's. Daniel left; leaving me alone to fend off my
stepfather.
    I lock the door with a deadbolt. Now-a-days
my stepfather doesn't bother me; he’s never home. When he is, it’s
time to leave.
    I look at
my self in the mirror. My
piercing green eyes are tired; I can't bear to look at them too
long. Beautiful eyes are what my stepfather liked about Daniel, a
characteristic he and I share. My jet black hair is damp and my
skin clean for now from Josh's house.
    I settle on the unwashed pile. The
musty smell of a blanket that hasn’t seen the washer in years is
draped across my clothed body. My legs curl and my sneakers stay on
to keep my feet warm.
    I'm still wearing Josh’s
underwear.
    I stuff my face in a bunched shirt I'm
using as a pillow. The crying tires me to thoughtlessness until my
eye lids are too heavy and my breathing evens out to
sleep.
     
    ***
     
    Gabriel
     
    Without my backpack, and more importantly
without my hoodie, I brace myself. I'm standing on Main Street well
aware that I'm without the one thing that usually protects me from
prying eyes— but
there are no people.
    The sun is a
little past its peak. The street is empty of the usual lunchtime
hustle and bustle.
    I habitually stuff my hands in my
pockets and my shoulders hunch in attempt to hide even though there
seems to be no one to hide from. I glance up at a shop window only
to see my reflection doing just the opposite.
    My mirror image stands tall