Trigger warning: Violence
A/N: Little warning this chapter is intense, and the next one will be even more intense. sorry to put you guys through this much angst. Anyway, thanks to Indianara and Laurenknight13 for the reviews! Also thank you to the people who recently added my story to following stories. And a big thank you to Awesome1, AngieMG and faye1508 for the lovely reviews!
Santana POV
My whole life, my parents have been working so damn hard in order to give me the life they have always wanted for me. Of course, I used to hate the fact that most of the time my abuela needed to look after me because they were so engrossed in their jobs. Moreover when I was about eight years old, they both got promoted and needed to work even harder. Also, they had to go on a ton of business trips, which meant that I didn't see them that often growing up.
Thankfully, when I entered high school, they started letting me stay home by myself. Not that I didn't enjoy staying with my grandma, but sometimes a girl just needs her freedom. Plus I thought that it was pretty badass to make up my own rules as I went, unfortunately I haven't always made the right decisions. Anyway I needed to grow up fast because I had to make my own dinner, wash my own clothes, do the groceries, get the mail, iron my own clothes and keep myself company when they were on yet another business trip.
I know that my parents sometimes regret not always being there for me, but they have nothing to be sorry for. Perhaps that sounds odd, but I understand they were simply trying to be the best parents they could possibly be by striving to make as much money as they could to take care of me. A big part of the money they earn goes into a trust fund that has to pay for college next year, which I'm thankful for since college isn't reserved for everyone.
I'm still kind of amazed that they have actually agreed to let me get a major in dance at Juilliard next year. However they have always realized that dancing is the only thing that can make me truly happy. When I used to feel lonely, I put on a great song and poured my emotions into a new dance routine. Al that practice paid off, because when our after-school dance class enters into a competition, we always end in the top three. We even have won nationals a couple of times. That's probably the reason why my parents believe that I'm actually good enough to make it into that business. Even though the music and dance industry is one of the toughest around if you want to make it and earn your living by dancing, they have always supported my choice to try and become a professional dancer.
Surprisingly, my parents have never missed one of my competitions. They would always make sure that they got home on time from their business trip if I had to dance in a contest. Even though I would never tell anyone, since that would be really lame, I truly love my parents and I'm happy when they're proud of me.
Anyway right now I'm eager to get home from Puck's place. Don't get me wrong because I had a blast hanging out with him today. Plus, you already know that he's like a brother to me. However, today is the day that my parents finally are going to get back from their business trip that lasted for five whole months. This has been the longest business trip they have been on so far, and I hope that the next one is going to be way shorter. Not that I can't survive on my own, because everybody knows that I can take care of myself. However, I do love them and they have always supported me and cared for me. They weren't even that mad when Puck and I got twenty hours of community service because we 'vandalized' school property.
Anyhow, I have finally arrived at my place, and when I enter the door I immediately notice that something's wrong. Their suitcases are still standing at the door, like they are going to leave again, which is odd since they have only just come back. I am extremely confused right now and I start looking around. After a few seconds I spot my parents sitting on the couch. My dad has his arm wrapped around my mother and she's silently sobbing into his chest. A million questions start to pop into my head. What's going on? Why's my mom crying? And why the hell are their bags standing at the door? Are they leaving again? What the fuck happened?
Before I can start freaking out even more, my father catches sight of me and motions me to come over. I do as I was told, but before I can ask either of them a question, they fill me in on the current situation. He snaps, "How could you do this to us Santana? What did your mother and I do to deserve this?! This is not the way we raised you!"
I have no idea what he is talking about, but whatever it is, it must be something bad. My mum starts sobbing louder and louder and I can't help but wonder what I did. Because I haven't been in trouble lately, so I seriously am at a loss here. Things soon become clear when he reaches for his iPad that is lying on the coffee table and hands it over to me. When I unlock the screen, I gasp in surprise and tears spring in my eyes.
Shit, how could this happen?! Right now, I'm staring at a picture of me and Rachel kissing. It was the day she became my girlfriend, when we were cuddling in that tent. Who the fuck did this? Who could have taken this and sent it to my parents? How could someone be so damn cruel and out me to my parents behind my back?! This was not the way they should have found out that I'm gay! Why couldn't I be the one to tell my parents? Shit! Why?! Fuck; this wasn't how I pictured them finding out!
My mother's voice brings me back from my thoughts. She howls, "Santana, what has become of you? We didn't raise you to live like a sinner. I just don't understand Santana, why would you do this?! Is this one of your rebellious actions, some sort of cry for attention because your father and I aren't home that much? Or are you really one of those, a lesbian, a sinner and a disgrace to God?" Her voice is filled with so much pain, that it cut like a knife through my heart. When I don't respond right away, she continues and pleads, "Please Santana, tell us that this picture isn't real, or that this is some kind of nightmare."
When I feel a single tear burn down my cheek, I don't even bother wiping it away because I already know that many more will follow. The silence that follows speaks louder than a thousand words and hurts me more than I could possibly explain. I have never felt this kind of pain before.
After a few minutes I finally find the courage to reply and sniff, "I'm so so sorry, mommy and daddy. So so sorry, I really am and you have got no idea how much I hated myself when I found out that I was gay. I tried to change, I really did. You have to believe me."
My father interrupts me, "Well try harder, because I refuse to have a dyke as a daughter. So either you change, or you need to start consider yourself an orphan."
The pain and heartache I feel as soon as those words have left his lips are indescribable. I can't even express what it's like to have your heart ripped out by your own parents. My own parents! They hate me for who I really am, they're disgusted by me and they refuse to have a gay daughter. Why is this happening to me?! I can't lose them. This is not the way it was supposed to be! They can't just stop loving me, they just can't...
Tears are streaming down my face, and my sight becomes blurred within seconds. The moment my father starts yelling all kinds of horrible things and saying more insults than I could possible count, I stop listening. The only time I look up again, is when his hand collides with my cheek. He hits me a couple more times before he grabs me by the arm and pulls me towards the door. I taste blood on the inside of my lip, and my head is throbbing, but I don't care.
My father has never hit me before, and I believe that deep down he regrets punching me. If he could just let me explain and accept me, I would forgive him in a heartbeat. However that isn't happening any time soon, because my mother weeps, "Oh Santana, I can't even look at you anymore. Your father and I will be waiting for you when you're ready to come back again once you have changed."
I cry, "Are you kicking me out? I have nowhere to go! You can't do this to me, please don't, don't do this. Daddy, mommy, please don't. Just please, please. I love you, don't do this!"
Before I can utter anything else, my father takes the suitcases and throws them out on the street. He says coldly, "You can keep your car, and the stuff that your mother and I had packed. But you're no longer welcome in this family, until you're ready to change. Otherwise, I don't want to hear from you, nor see you anymore. Now leave, Santana!"
After my parents have kicked me out of my home, I can't get myself to leave. I don't even know how long, I have been standing here. Just standing on my front porch, or should I say their front porch since I no longer live here. It's not that I don't want to move, but I just can't. Perhaps it is because I can't control my body anymore and actually walk to my car, or maybe because I can't say goodbye. If I leave, then this would become a reality and I'll be homeless. Not once, did it cross my mind that my parents could be this heartless. They kicked me out, disowned me, verbally abused me and my father physically hurt me.
Honestly, I believe that the pain my parents have caused me will leave a scar on my soul for the rest of my life, even if they would ever find it in their heart to accept me as I am. To say that I'm heartbroken would be the understatement of the year.
Loud cries keep on escaping my lips and I feel like I am going to throw up from all the crying. Never in my whole life, have I felt this lost. Nothing will be able to take this amount of pain away. I just can't believe that this is happening right now. They were supposed to come back and tell me that they love me; not tell me that they hate me for who I am. They're my parents for crying out loud, aren't they supposed to love me? I love them so much, so why can't they just love me back?
Suddenly, it seems if my body is giving up. I fall on the ground, still howling hysterically. Standing up again is no option. My body isn't functioning anymore, and I can't think straight at this point. I sit on my hands and knees, and start throwing up. How could I have fallen this low? If people in school would know, they would probably be laughing so hard. Oh how the mighty have fallen is what they would say. Santana Lopez, head cheerleader, throwing up while she can't stop crying because her parents stopped loving her the second they found out that she's a stupid lesbian.
The moment my father notices that I have ruined a spot on their lawn because of my vomit; he runs outside and starts screaming all kinds of insults. He even kicks me a few times and pushes my face down into my own puke. I feel so defeated, and broken. Who is this man? It's as if I can't even recognize my own father anymore. My father would never ever do this to his own daughter; too bad I was wrong about that.
I have a key to the cheerleading shower cabins, so I guess that I will head there. Hopefully nobody will spot me, since it's forbidden to go there on a Sunday. Although I don't really care; because it's the only place I know where I can go to take a shower to wash all the shame away. Perhaps I could ask Puck, Rachel, Quinn or Brittany to shower at their place, but I don't want them to see me like this. Not while I'm covered in blood and my own vomit. I don't want them to see me this defeated and broken.
In fact I don't want anybody to catch me looking like this. I don't even recognize myself anymore. This isn't who I am or who I want to be, I'm not a scared little girl. I have always been strong like a warrior, and that isn't going to change today. Yes, I went through hell a few minutes ago, but that doesn't change the fact that I can survive this if I just remain strong. No matter how hard I have been bruised, scarred, strained, offended and hurt, I will never give up. This is why I need to show everybody that you can't mess with me and get away with turning my life into a living hell. The person who did this is going to pay for it, and I know exactly where to find him. He'd better watch his back because he can't just drag me through hell and get away with it.