RESPIRE (LGBTQIA+)

Empty Prayers

RESPIRE

Synonyms;

Breathe, Inhale

Recover hope, courage, or strength after a time of difficulty

I. EMPTY PRAYERS

ALL I HAVE TO DO is breathe, and it is wrong. Walk a certain way, and it is wrong. Be alive, and it is wrong. I cannot do anything because it is wrong. Tonight, all I did was smile at the stranger they had invited inside the house, and I know that I should not have, that I should not have been in the same room without an invitation. I was to stay hidden and not be seen nor heard, and in their eyes, that is a punishable offence, that I should never have looked up from the floor at him. As a result, he justified the slap he gave me before he threw me into my solitary confinement, to be locked away again for the night to repent for what I had done wrong. If praying got me nowhere, what is the point of repenting for sins I never committed? In this black room, I have prayed silently with my hands flat on the ground with my head hung. I held my hands laced together, palm to palm, underneath my chin and spoke the words quietly. I have pleaded and bargained. There was nothing that I could offer.

Every prayer was unanswered. Every deal with the devil never met.

All I got back was silence.

How can I believe in something greater than this that does not show people mercy, and when they do not, you are then religiously told that things happen for a reason, that I have to keep my faith and belief when the only response I got back is radio silence. I felt more alone in this room than I ever have as I allowed the darkness to envelop me in a blanket when the need to scream tore through my chest when all I produced was a whimper.

Before the door shut to lock me in for the night, the last words I would hear would be the ones that she would utter my way, which my mother would always make sure she reminded me how I needed to learn and understand why she had to do this. I could plead with her not to shut me in. I could beg her not to do this. She gave me a final look as the door shut, the sound of the lock latching, the final nail put into the coffin.

All I could do was fall forward on my knees and onto my hands, feeling a tear run down my cheek when I silently let out a strangled sorry, hoping that she heard. I never meant to walk into the room. I never even knew they had a guest coming over, and if I had known, I would have stayed hidden. 

I listen to his orders.

I listen to his warnings.

On some days, he is angrier than others, and without a word spoken my way, he would lash out. I often wondered if he was this way towards my mother, even though I had never seen a single bruise on her skin. She would never cower in fear when he was near her. If I am being honest, she would never show any emotion. She would not even utter a word my way. She would watch with an empty glare. The only time I hear her speak is when Kal visits, and like a snap of your fingers, she would then become all smiles as if everything is okay. I knew he had never liked Kal and would try to stop her from showing up uninvited, but she always turned her back to him and ignored him, and most of the time, if Scott knew that Kal was coming around, he would push me into the room and tell me to keep my mouth shut. Sometimes, he would stay inside the room with me, and there was barely enough room to lie down, let alone fit two people inside. It was a small room where you would discard unnecessary objects.

Me.

It did not take long until the thin strip of light from under the door disappeared, knowing that I was staying in there until the morning. All I could do was shift into the corner and hug my knees to my chest to keep warm, and even with the room being so small, it would still get cold.