Work Text:
Ever since Val was a child she knew she was…different.
The rest of her family? They were content to fall in line; do exactly what the Pastor said Jesus would want them to do. But Val?
Val wasn't.
One of the earliest memories Val has is in front of a mirror. She was in a ridiculous white dress, with too many frills and bows. Her mother said she looked beautiful in it.
Val thought she looked like a potato sack.
Val was only ever allowed to wear dresses. It was what the Lord commanded from her as a woman. To wear pants like her brothers would be indecent.
Still the ridiculous dresses that were only good for getting in the way didn't stop Val from climbing further, running faster, and shooting sharper than her brothers.
From being indecent.
It didn't matter though—not really—because every day Val would come back with bruises on her knees and scraps on her elbows, begging her father and mother to let her wear pants, siting the visible evidence on her body as proof those dresses were only getting in the way, and everyday she'd be scolded and rejected.
Young Val thought she hated them then.
Young Val knew nothing.
Until the age of ten Val's parents would get Val and her five older brothers up at dawn every Sunday to take the three mile walk to Church. It was one of those places where a person's closets neighbor could be miles away, so in hindsight Val realizes she was quite lucky.
It makes her blood run cold to consider the kids who had it worse if she can consider herself lucky.
No matter rain or shine the eight of them would make that walk. Val remembers dreading the end of the service while simultaneously praying that it would end.
She'd immediately pray for forgiveness whenever she slipped up and asked God to make the service go quicker.
Sometimes Val thinks that was her first sin.
Sometimes she thinks existing was the first.
After Val turned ten years old a new Pastor joined their Church. She didn't like him. He talked too loudly and for too long and the way he looked at her in those ridiculous dresses made her skin crawl.
Her parents loved him though, her brothers too. So when he started preaching that any good Christian goes to Church at least twice a week, they started making that awful walk twice a week.
And when he increased it to three times a week, they were there.
And when he increased it to four times a week, they were there.
And when he increased it to five times a week, they were there.
And when he increased it to six times a week, they were there.
And when he increased it to seven times a week, they were there.
The blisters on Val's feet were a constant agony, but she was never allowed to wear appropriate walking shoes, unlike her brothers, so the blisters continues to grow. She had to walk slower than the rest of them.
Never stop, though.
Val never stopped walking.
It only took one time to learn her lesson.
She knew she was different from her brothers, the Bible said so, she had a different…place. But it was when she was fifteen that she started to realize she was more different.
She questioned things.
You're not supposed to question things.
She questioned why she and her mother had to do all the chores in the house will her father and brothers got to have fun outside.
She questioned why their Pastor insisted on them coming to Church seven days a week when the Bible only outlines one day as the Lord's day.
She questioned why then were walking six miles on the Lord's day in the first place.
She questioned why she had to wear dresses all the time.
She questioned why her brothers got to learn more than she did.
But the thing she questioned the most was why Jesus could hate someone for loving another person.
It was at one of those horrible Wednesday services that Val first saw her.
Alexis.
Her blonde hair glowed in the early morning light and Val though she looked like an angel.
She was beautiful.
Val's stomach dropped every time she saw her.
She knew what this was. The Pastor had given many sermons about it—
about homosexuality.
She knew it was sin, that she was dirty, that she was going to hell.
But…
When she kissed Alexis in a back room after Sunday Service, Val knew she could never believe in any of that stuff.
She knew there was no way this was a sin.
Alexis didn't feel the same.
They snuck around for awhile, sneaking moments in closets and behind buildings, but Val understood it wouldn't last.
Not when Alexis would cry and cry about how they were both going to hell and need to seek forgiveness. Val would hold her hand or brush her hair while she sobbed and wonder why anyone would drive such a beautiful girl to this state.
Therefore, it shouldn't have surprised Val when she came downstairs one dad to see Alexis, their Pastor, her parents, and Alexis' parents in the living room.
Waiting for her.
Val doesn't remember many specifics of that day. She remembers crying and yelling and things being thrown. She remembers the threat of conversion therapy and that man trying to convince her she was just sick and needed help.
Val wanted to punch him. He's the sick fuck who needs help.
The only thing Val knows for sure is that Alexis sold them out and agreed to get "help" and Val was out the door with a one way train ticket by the end of the day.
Val gets to wear pants now.
She can say the word lesbian now.
She can shoot and climb and run as much as she wants now. There's no one to scold her about getting herself dirty.
Val had cut her hair when she got off that first train. She didn't have any money so she swiped a pair of scissors from one of the stands.
And in that bathroom she cut and cut off that goddamned hair.
And she cried about those people for the last time.
Val never found out what happened to Alexis.
She hopes she found her own TRU.
She hopes she's safe.
Val hopes she learned different doesn't mean evil.