Young Writers Society

Now this is the second story I've ever written which I'd rate 16. Mostly for slightly mature themes (in my opinion, at least). NOTE: This story deals with homosexuality. If the first four letters of that word bother you, don't read this. But for those who do read this, I need you to rip it to shreds. I like the beginning, but I'm not at all sure about the ending scenes. And I apologize, because this is, well, long.

This is for Skeensy's (a.k.a. Skins, Freak, or Cannibal Duck) contest, She's The Man.

I awake just as a song starts to play on the radio. The sun has crept in, and now its golden radiance shines through the windows, lighting the room in an orange-yellow hue. The sky is blue beyond the panes. The world is beautiful.

I remember when we first saw the Mirror World. We first spotted the silver line in the sky on the 21st of December, and it had been interpreted in a thousand different ways. Those who were of little faith told the rest of us that they were right, that the world was ending. We told you, they said, it’s December 21, 2012, and today we die. Today the world changes forever.

They were wrong, because we would not die that day. But they were right, too, because the world changed that day.

People had feared the silver lining. Even my father, Pastor Adams, even though he’d been saying in all the days leading up to the 21st that the whole fuss was secular nonsense. Even he feared it that day.

But as time passed and nothing happened, the fear began to disappear. Curiosity rose instead, and on the 29th of December, 2012, a plane was seen in the sky for the first time in a week. A team consisting of the best pilots and researchers in the EU were in it, and they flew right into the silver lining over the Atlantic Ocean.

They came back several hours later. And they brought news to us of the Mirror-World and its inhabitants, of the similarities between us and them and the vast differences. But there was one difference in particular, the one which started the controversy.

I was 17 when I travelled to the Mirror-World. Not alone, of course. With my father and the other Pastors in my small community. We were going to preach, to help the Mirror-Worlders repent. Not that I truly believed it could be done. But I was a Christian, and it was my duty. What’s more, I feared the wrath of my father if I didn’t try.

I knew the worlds were similar; I’d read all the newspaper reports I could and I’d heard the testimony of the missionaries who’d gone before us. But no amount of preparation readied me for what I saw, and when we came down from the clouds into the Mirror-city of London, I looked around in shock. Down below, I could see the same hectic bustle in the streets, I could imagine myself down there and I knew that it would be just as loud as back home, I knew that strangers would be just as awkward with each other.

I recall my father thumping me on the back of the head at this point.

“We’re not here to admire their world, boy,” he hissed in my ear. “We’re here to show these sinners God’s light. We’re here to offer them redemption, if they can comprehend it.”

“Yes, father,” I’d replied.

“And outside the sermons, I don’t want to see you interacting with them. Not one. Those gays,” he said, flailing his arms about to demonstrate his anger, “they convert people, I swear they do. Stay away from them.”

“Yes, father.”

The Mirror-Worlders were very diplomatic. They learnt about us, and as we visited their world they visited ours. They didn’t mind--or seem to mind--the purpose of our visit, they set us up in a hotel and booked us a hall where we could deliver our sermons. I wondered at it, and at some point my father said to me,

“Don’t be fooled by the kindness. They’re just doing it to show that they are civilized. But they’re not, really.”

I nodded.

The Mirror-Worlders actually attended our sermons. I wondered at that too. How could they live the way they did, and still want to listen to us? Or as Father had said, were they just feigning civilization? I didn’t understand it all.

Father and the other missionaries did most of the talking, I only helped really. I would give them water, or different Bibles. But I didn’t talk and only watched the crowd. Watched them closely, especially the couples. Two men, sitting side-by-side with their hands held together firmly. Or two women near the back; one of them was sleeping, resting her head on her partner’s shoulder. I didn’t understand it. It was so…so unnatural, wasn’t it? They were going to Hell, and yet they lived like this. Everyone did.

I first spoke in a sermon when we’d been there a week. I wasn’t supposed to, I was merely handing my father some water.

“We do not come to cause tension,” my father was saying, that day I first noticed him. “We are not your enemies, we are your friends. Closer even, we are your brethren. For we are all children of God, and it is in His name that we are here. We come to reconcile you to the word of God, to show you the light of the one true faith!”

I handed him the water, and before unscrewing the bottle he motioned to me to talk. And suddenly I noticed just how large the crowd was, and how many eyes were on me. I opened my mouth several times before I managed to say anything.

“I…What you worship, i-it’s false!” I shouted. Or croaked, rather. “The way you live, it’s false! God does not want you to live this way! M-marriage, it’s supposed to be—“

“A union under God between two persons in love,” he said, interrupting me.

I stared at him then. I’d noticed him sitting at the front before, because he was always that dark-haired boy sitting alone. I’d always wondered if he was a sinner, like the rest.

“Marriage is a union under God between a man and woman,“ I said in reply, “not merely two persons in love. They come together and they are no longer two, but one.”

There was a collective gasp at that point. Father had not yet directly attacked the issue of marriage, he had skipped around it. Now I had plunged straight into it, and what’s more I’d offended the entire crowd.

People immediately began to leave, and one of the two men I’d been watching before shouted,

“That is sick! You claim to be prophets of God, but then you come here and twist His words in defence of those Heteros?! Those gays?!” I saw him shudder. “May God forgive you. I advise you, young man, to pray tonight.”

“Don’t you read the Bible?” one of the women asked me. “’Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his husband, and they become one flesh. In this same way a woman leaves her father and mother and cleaves to her wife, and they become one flesh.’ Are you totally sick? Why would there be a union of something so unnatural, so opposing? A man and a woman cannot come together to have a child! Utter madness!”

In a few more minutes, most had gone. Father just shook his head at me, and he and the other missionaries went backstage. I’d failed him. I was always failing him.

He was still there, though.

“What do you want?” I snapped at him. “Everyone’s gone, thanks to you. You’ve condemned the people of London to

their sin and thus Hell. Are you happy now?”

“There is no sin in love, Pastor,” he said calmly. “Even you don’t believe that. Anyhow, you can’t spread your ideals in a world that has far too many. Don’t you know you’re not the only preachers here?”

“Of course we aren’t. There are more missionaries—“

“I’m not talking of your missionaries. I’m talking of ours. How can you possibly hope us to listen to you when you don’t listen to us?”

“We didn’t come here to listen to your preachers,” I hissed. “We came to spread the Word of God.”

“But not His love then?” and here he raised an eyebrow at me. I turned around. I began to walk away.

“My name’s Joshua, by the way,” he shouted after me. “I’ll be here next sermon, if you decide to listen to us.”

I didn’t turn around.

But he was there next sermon, even though there was barely a crowd present. And the next. And the next. He was persistent, and incredibly annoying. But eventually, he got his way. At the end of the fourth sermon I agreed to meet him in a library in Mirror-North Finchley, London.

I didn’t go alone, of course. I went with Pastor Sam, who, being only 23, was close to my age and friendly enough to me. I told him about Joahua's persistence as we sat in the back of the cab.

Sam laughed when I’d finished. “There’s probably nothing he wants to show us,” he said. “He’s probably trying to get you into bed.”

“I’m not so sure, Sam,” I replied. “He’s there every sermon, and he’s come up to me for the past four offering to show me the real world and everything the Government wouldn’t. He seems to be serious about something.”

“You worry too much. We’ll see what he wants, and we’re going back to the hotel. And hopefully, home soon. We can’t save them, you know. We can’t.”

“But—“

“Daniel, it’s not even the sexuality that’s the problem. They are actually different from us. In our world it takes a man and a woman to make a child, but here…here that’s not how it is. Not at all. And it’s the natural way here.”

I shook my head. “That’s not possible.”

“You haven’t been in their hospitals. That’s how it is.” He sighed. “I don’t know what your father brought us here for. We can’t change this. And they say it’s in their Bible as well…did you hear what that woman said in that sermon?”

“How could I forget?”

Sam was staring out of the window now, at the people in street. At the couples.

“It makes me wonder,” he said. “…Why? How? God tells us one thing and them another…Or did He tell us the same thing

and we…we just both got it wrong?”

Joshua was waiting for us inside, and he didn’t look very surprised to see Sam.

“Let me guess,” he said, “you thought I was going to lead you to some sort-of bar? Maybe flirt with you?”

“I don’t know you, Joshua,” I said. “Who knows what you’re planning?”

He laughed then. He laughed until the librarian hushed him, and even then he still smiled as he led us to the very back of the library, where the books were dusty and old.

“These are the KJV Bibles,” he said, holding one. “You don’t believe it is as we say? See for yourself.” he handed it to me, and then excused himself.

I’d barely opened the Bible when Sam took it from me, flipping through the pages carefully. When he stopped he began to read, and as he did his face got whiter and whiter. Eventually, he handed it to me and walked away. I watched him go outside, and I turned my attention to the Bible. To the Book of Genesis.

"may freely eat of every tree of the garden; 17 but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die." And so the first man, and the men the Lord God created after from his ribs, ate of the garden trees but not of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. 18 Then the LORD God said, "It is not good that the men should be alone; I will make them a helper fit for them…"

"22 and while he slept He created of dust another being which resembled Man, but with some difference, and who He brought to the first man. 23 Then the first man said, "This one has the bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was created in the image of Man. We are two of one, but different in many ways." 24 From the first woman the Lord God took a rib and created more women. Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his husband, and they become one flesh. In this same way a woman leaves her father and mother and cleaves to her wife, and they become one flesh.25 And the men and the women were naked, and they were not ashamed…"

I closed the Bible. I had read enough, I had learnt enough, and I needed to read no more.

I hadn’t noticed Joshua’s return, and started slightly when I did. I remember replacing the Bible on the shelf. I remember the silence between us.

“I hope you’re not disgusted,” he said quietly. “At least, not so much. I don’t know many things about your world, but apparently such things as you may have read aren’t the same for you.”

“No, they’re not. Not at all.”

“Perhaps it was God’s intention to make us different, Daniel,” and he added when I looked at him, “Your father called you by that at a sermon.”

I remember turning to face him. “What do you really want, Joshua? To show me that things are different here? I know that. To make me stop preaching? I…I can’t. My father…”

“I know, Daniel, I do. My father is a preacher too. But against…against people like you. Gay people, that is.”

I looked at him strangely, and with what must have been a little anger.

“Gay? I’m not gay, Joshua. Your kind; you’re gay.”

He laughed. “No, I…That means a different thing here. On your world, it means people like us, doesn’t it? The same gender? But that’s not what it means here, it means people like you, the heterosexuals. We have a word for same-gender attraction—“

“Straight?”

“Yes,” he said, “yes. Straight. How strange, that two different worlds still use the same terms. The same words.”

“I think eerie is a better word, Joshua.”

He laughed yet again. “Yes, eerie.”

“What I wanted to show you,” Joshua said to me as we walked in the busy streets of London, “was how similar we are. And the preachers. I wanted to show you the preachers.”

Sam had taken the cab and left. I’d called him at a payphone, but he hadn’t picked up. What he’d read had been enough for him, I’d guessed. Did he still think as my father did? That the people of this world were wrong in their ways? That they were sinners? Or…did he think as I did?

Was he as confused?

“Show me the preachers first,” I said to Joshua. “You’ve talked about them, but you’ve shown me nothing.”

“I will, I will,” he said, checking his watch. “It’s quarter to three; if we hurry we can still make it in time.”

“Still make it to where?” I asked, hurrying to match his speed, but he didn’t answer. Instead we crossed the road and went down another, and when he finally stopped walking we were before a primary school. Cars were parked all down the street, and the pavement outside the school was swamped with parents—

Parents.

I watched them in curiosity. A male couple were leaning against the school fence, talking to each other while a child who resembled them played with another girl, who turned at the call of ‘Susie!’ by a woman standing not far away. The woman was unlocking the door of her car while simultaneously talking into her phone, quite loudly: “—I told you to buy mayonnaise, Grace! Not salad cream! God! You do this every—“

“Are you here for a child?” a woman asked us, stepping closer. There were wrinkles around her eyes but she wasn’t old, and by the straight-forward way she questioned us, I surmised she was a school teacher.

“We—“ I started, but Joshua cut me off.

“We’re here for Jason Andrews,” he said. “He’ll be out any minute now.”

The teacher smiled, and said, “Jason Andrews? You must be his brother, Joshua. I’m Miss Williams, his PE teacher. You should be proud of your little brother; he’s a clever boy.”

Joshua smiled too, and just like that they began chatting like old friends. I still watched the crowd of parents, and the children. Children who looked just their parents. Children who didn’t seem bothered by, who didn’t even seem to care for, the sexuality of their parents. Did they…did they even notice it? It was how they would be one day, wouldn’t it?

“Oh look,” I heard Williams say. “It’s them.”

The mumbling, the bustle and friendly chatter of the parents disappeared in a second. The majority of them began to lead their children away, down the road, to cars, onto buses. The few who stayed looked away, or smiled plastically at the new couple who had driven up in a car, and now walked to the school gates.

They were a man and a woman.

“I wish,” continued Williams, “that things like this didn’t happen. I mean, yes, I know that gay rights is a major issue and all, but still. Why should such…people, be allowed to adopt children? Just think how traumatized the little boy would be. It’s not right.”

My mouth dry, I turned to her. “Why do you find it so wrong?”

She laughed bitterly. “Because it is. I’m no Christian or religious folk, mind you. But that’s just…unnatural. Can’t you see it? They couldn’t have children themselves, so they take someone else’s.” She sighed and shook her head. Joshua was about to say something; I could see it in the annoyed look on his face. But when he opened his mouth, it wasn’t his voice I heard.

“Joshua!” A little boy was running towards us who had the same dark-hair and olive-skin as Joshua. Jason, I guessed. He flung his arms around my strange companion, and asked at least ten questions in the space of 30 seconds, of which I only heard three: When did you meet Miss Williams? and Did you know that I came top of the class in spelling? and Who is that strange guy, Joshua?

Joshua answered the last. “This is my friend, Daniel,” he said to Jason. I looked at him, but said nothing.

“We’re going home for lunch first, Jase,” Joshua said to his brother, “and then I’ll drop you off at Adam’s. Okay?”

“Okay!” the boy half-shouted, and then after waving goodbye to his teacher, he turned back to the gates.

“See you later, Adam!” he shouted to a red-haired boy at the gates, waving. Adam, as he was called, waved back, and then he followed the man and woman from earlier to their car.

I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw Miss Williams whiten a little. Maybe it was the sun.

Two hours later, we’d dropped Jason off at Adam’s house. As it turned out, Joshua had a car, because we drove to drop the boy off and we drove now, on the M25.

“You’ll see the preachers now,” he said to me, his voice clear and distinct unlike the crackling radio. “At least, when we get to our destination.” He glanced at me in the mirror. “Have you spoken to your father?”

“No. Why?”

“Because Sam would have gone back to your hotel, and probably your father would know you were with me. I don’t imagine he’d be very pleased.”

“No,” I said, “no, he wouldn’t. It doesn’t matter now though, does it? What he brought me here to do, to see…it hasn’t

changed me the way he thought it might. Not at all.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He glanced at me again, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, I questioned him.

“Why do you live alone with your brother? It’s…odd.”

He kept his eyes straight ahead this time. “He’s not my brother. Jason’s my son.” He cut me off when I started to speak and continued. “My parent’s kicked me out when they found out. His mother--or, I suppose in your world, his other father—died in his birth. Complications. We were 15 or so.”

I stared at him; he was gripping the steering wheel tightly. His knuckles were white.

“…I’m sorry. Does Jason know?”

“…He does. Most of his teachers assume I’m his brother, though. Doesn’t bother me.”

I nodded and our conversation faded into silence. I stared out of the window, at the red and white car lights against the darkening sky.

We were in a gay club, in Luton. Or at least, the equivalent in Joshua’s world.

“Are you telling me the preachers are here?” I shouted to Joshua above the deafening music. He said something, but I couldn’t hear it. I looked around, at the neon lights and the crowd of people on the dance floor, twisting, moving, gyrating. This looked like any club back home.

I was snapped out of my awe by Joshua, who grabbed my hand and pulled me over to an empty table. I pulled my hand free of his grasp the moment we sat down, and he gave me a strange look. But he didn’t ask of it.

“Why are we here?” I shouted to him. “I don’t see any preachers!”

“Waiting for friends,” he replied. “They’ll be here soon. Then we’ll go.”

“Finally,” I said. “We’ve been going up and down for a while now.”

“We have, haven’t we?” He was watching the dancers. And then he turned to me.

“D’you want a drink?”

“What?”

“A drink. Do you want a drink?”

We stared at each other across the table. He looked quite serious, with not a trace of a smile or laugh evident on his face.

“…Fine.”

“Alcohol, water or soft drink?”

“A Coke’ll do.”

Joshua stood up, and disappeared in the direction of the bar. When he returned he held a glass of coke which he set before me, and a can of lager which he popped open and began to drink from.

“I didn’t take you for an alcoholic,” I said to him.

He looked at me. “If one can today means I’m an alcoholic, you don’t want to know what I was last Friday.” He threw his head back and drank some more. When he was finished, I asked him:

“What’s this about?”

“The bar? I told you, we’re waiting—“

“Not the bar. Why you’re showing me all these things, telling me all this. Why are you so interested in me?”

His fingers traced a circle on the side of the can. “You look like a good person.”

I snorted in laughter. “Don’t be foolish. That’s no reason for all of this. Why are you really interested in me?”

“…The real reason? There are three. One: You remind me of myself. My father…he’s a pastor as well, preaching all manner of things. I went along with his ways because, well, it was all I’d ever known. How he thought of one thing, how he thought of another. I was his good Christian child, until he found out about Jason.” He sighed. “Your father is doing the same thing. You listen to him now, and he praises you now, and then when you step a toe out of line you’re on your own. The moment you stop being what he wants you to be, you’re on your own. I want to show you everything he never will about what he fights so blindly, everything my father never showed me. They say this is wrong, but they don’t tell you why. They twist the Lord’s words through blindness and mistranslation to prove their point, ignoring what Christianity is truly about—love and understanding.”

He sighed and tapped the side of the can. “Anyway…reason number two. Me, and the friends you’ll meet, we are the founders of Spiral.”

“Of what?”

“Some people think it’s a gay-straight alliance. It’s not. Our members are those who do not focus on gender when it comes to love. Technically, some are gay, and some are straight; some are even bisexual. But we’re attempting to ignore the categories the modern world has given love.”

“And I come into this, how?”

“In short, someone from your world joining our ranks would encourage more people to do so.”

“You’re using me, then?”

“Of course not. If you want you could join us, but it’s not the main reason I’m showing you all of this.”

“Then why—“

“Josh!” We both turned at the sound of the voice. From the looks of it, it belonged to a rather tall girl heading our way, accompanied by a smaller girl who clung to her elbow.

“Hey Josh!” The tall red-head arrived at our table, sitting down with her friend. She looked at me and asked, “This the new guy? He’s cute enough, eh, Ish?” She nudged the girl beside her, who wriggled away from her in annoyance.

“This is Donna,” Joshua said of the red-head, and of the quiet Asian, “this is Ishma. You two, this is Daniel. As I’ve mentioned, Daniel, we lead Spiral. And now, we’d best leave.”

“Oh, come on,” Donna cried, “me and Ish haven’t even had any drinks yet!”

“I already told you I don’t drink,” Ishma said to her, smiling. “Stop joking around.”

“Yes,” Joshua said, “stop joking around. We need to get going, now.” He got up and headed towards the exit.

Donna and Ishma exchanged a look, and then the former turned to me. “What’s gotten into him?”

“He’s been like this since we got on the M25,” I replied with a shrug. “I don’t know, really.”

“We’re going to meet with the pastors,” Ishma said. “That’s why.”

We drove to a Spiral meeting, which was held in a rented hall. Donna and Ish had their own car, and Joshua and I helped them carry the food they’d brought into the hall. We arranged the tables and the chairs, we hung up decorations and placed the snacks and drinks on the tables. And we...we had fun. Donna was constantly making jokes, or otherwise flirting with me and Ishma. And Ishma was, for a better word, a bit of a klutz. I didn’t understand at first why Joshua told her to relax instead of helping, not until I asked her if she could help with the decorations and all the spiralling ribbons came crashing down on top of us. But we laughed it off, and managed to get them to stay up on our fourth try.

The people started to come not long after we’d finished, and Donna disappeared with a blonde girl. I didn’t see Ishma go,

but I did realize at some point that I and Joshua were alone.

“I guess the preachers are coming?” I said to him. “Because you’ll have to pick up Jason after this.”

Joshua nodded. “They’re here, in fact. You’ll see them in a minute.” We were sitting down now, after he’d introduced me to a few members. Everyone else was talking, eating on another table, or in the case of a few dancing to the slow music.

“So what’s the third reason?”

“…What?”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten. The third reason you’re doing this. Apart from helping me decide my own life and apart from trying to have me join Spiral. Out with it, then.”

He stared at me. Then he said, “It’s a trade. You tell me what your father wanted to change in you, and I’ll tell you the third reason. Deal?”

“Deal. But you first.”

“No way. You brought up the thing about your father first. So you go first.”

“Is that really fair?”

Joshua smiled. “Yes, Daniel. Yes, it’s fair enough to me.”

I grunted in annoyance and crossed my arms. It was dark outside the windows, and the light inside painted our reflections against it. I could see Joshua watching me from behind.

“Once, I told my father I was…like you. He wasn’t happy about it. No-one in my family was, actually, except my sister. They told me how wrong it was, how I was going to hell…In the end, I refuted my claims. My parents were happy again. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps now though; he was on my back for every littlest thing. My sis didn’t talk to me after that. She thinks I betrayed myself, suppressed who I was to fit in. But…I didn’t. I’m not gay, Joshua. Not…not a homosexual. I’m here to prove that to my father. And to myself.”

During my talk, I’d unconsciously unfolded my arms. My right hand was on the table, and when his covered it I didn’t pull away. Not immediately.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said. “It may be a strange reason, but that’s why I first went to the sermons two weeks ago. And then eventually I talked with you, and you eventually agreed to this, and that’s why we’re here. A childish

reason, but a reason all the same.”

I’d turned away from the window, and we were looking at each other. I hadn’t realized that his eyes were green. A very pale green.

“—it! Stop it, Donna!” We turned at the shouting, and my hand moved away from his.

There was some sort-of commotion going on outside. Joshua went there fast, and I followed him. There was a crowd, and in the middle of it, Donna was being restrained by two men, Ishma was crying and being comforted at the edge of the crowd, and there were three men in white pastor robes, talking to the crowd. One, older than the others, was holding a Bible and doing most of the talking:

“—And the it was said in the Holy Bible: ‘Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor heterosexual offenders—“

“Father, please,” Joshua said, walking towards the speaker. “You show up at every meeting. Go away. Leave us in peace!”

The pastor, Joshua’s father, continued his sermon. “ It was also said: "Do not lie with a woman as one lies with a man; that is detestable."”

“Father!” Joshua looked angry now. “You’re not welcome here. You’ve reduced a teenage girl to tears,” here he gestured towards Ishma, “and you’re disturbing everybody. Do I have to call the police again?”

His father looked at him, and his eyes were dark in anger. “We will go, but we will pray for you,” he said.

“Heterosexuality is a sin! The Lord our God said it himself, and those who consort with heterosexuals will also receive the penalty coming to them.” As he turned away, he added, “You too, son.”

The meeting ended early. Donna took Ishma home, and the other members went one by one. Me and Joshua tidied up and cleared the hall in silence, and when we were finished he started to drive me back to the hotel.

Our journey was also in silence for the most part. It was only when we got into London that I turned to him and said:

“Thanks.”

“…For what?”

“Today.”

I saw him look at me in the mirror, strangely. “…It’s alright,” he said. “I imagine my father and the other preachers ruined it for you, though.”

“Not really. To be honest, it’s similar to listening to my dad for five minutes.”

He grunted, and the silence continued.

We arrived in front of the hotel, and he parked the car on the double line, keeping the engine running.

“Wait for a minute, will you?” I said to him. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

He looked at me and he nodded.

I went through the car park and inside the building. I’d only just gotten in when a voice said, “Daniel.”

I turned my head to see my father advancing towards me. I didn’t stop, however. I went into the elevator and he followed me. He was talking, but I was only half-listening.

“—Sam told me. A gay? What were you doing with one of them? I thought I told you—“

I hit the button for floor three, and we went up. He was still talking.

“—ruin your life, son. You will go to Hell, don’t you understand that? God doesn’t want this for you. He wants you to repent—“

“You don’t know what God wants, Father,” I said. “No-one has met Him face-to-face! We base the theories we have about Him on an old, mistranslated book! Who are you to say what He wants, what He doesn’t want, what He hates and loves?! You are not God, and only He shall judge us! I prayed to Him the night I talked to you and mother, and you know what?! He didn’t hate me. He didn’t condemn me. That night I felt the love of God flow through me, and it was so much more than what you, or mother ever showed me! God loves me, father! Once, I thought He did not, but He does. He always has.”

My father stared at me in shock. We reached the third floor, and I got out, going to my room. I took the door key from my pocket, and turning it in the lock I entered the room.

Sam was sleeping on his bed, but he woke when my father said, “Daniel, what are you saying? And what are you doing?”

I put my clothes in the rucksack I’d come with; they were all I had here. And with my father and Saml and the other missionaries watching, I returned to the elevator. I got to the ground floor, left the building and reached Joshua who was still waiting in the car. He didn’t say anything when I got in and threw my bag to the back seat, and we sped off into the night.

I stayed in the spare room of Joshua’s small apartment. I didn’t eat dinner; I wasn’t very hungry. I’d changed into my nightwear, and was at the small window when Joshua came in. He shut the door behind him and joined me at the window.

“Is Jason asleep?”

“I just put him to bed.”

I nodded, and he said: “You didn’t have to do that, you know. I showed you all those things, but I didn’t want you to change your whole life. I wasn’t asking you to do that at all.”

“That wasn’t my life, Josh. It was my father’s.”

“…You can stay here as long as you like. Immigration shouldn’t be a problem—“

“I’ve got a visa.”

“That’s good. It won’t be a problem then.” He paused, and then quickly ran his hand through my hair. Lightly.

“It—I, I’m glad you’re here, at least.” He said it quietly, in a whisper. I looked at him, at his pale eyes, and I kissed him.

For what seemed to be the barest moment, his mouth was pressing against mine. And then he pulled away.

“Goodnight, Daniel.”

“…Goodnight, Joshua.”

The memory of everything that had happened was still so strong in my mind. And I knew that moving on would be…difficult. But at the very least, I had Joshua. And Jason. And Donna and Ishma. And the sun was still shining.