The Lucky Ones Left - Chapter 4

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#4 of The Lucky Ones Left

I know this chapter (and others in the future) might hit close to home for queer folks who've been hurt by those close to them. I know this is a sensitive subject, and I hope I've handled it well. I've been fortunate enough to not have quite as much personal experience to draw from as many others. If you feel that I've failed to provide a tactful representation at any point during The Lucky Ones Left, then please let me know how I can do better, as it's very important to me that I get this right.

The Lucky Ones Left is a post-apocalyptic horror/adventure story which follows an arctic fox named Eetu as he navigates a world left devastated by forces beyond anyone's understanding, and recalls his life leading up to the collapse.

Thanks for reading! :D


CW: Strong language, Homophobia, Transphobia

Three more missed calls from Mom, and yet another flurry of texts.

5 April 2025 10:02 PM: Honey pick up, we miss you.

Today 1:15 AM: Come back to us, please.

Today 3:45 AM: We love you, Eetu.

I eyed the phone on the bedside table as I rubbed my eyes. 5:38 AM. Of course, she was four hours ahead of me. It didn't matter how many times I tried to explain. That didn't matter for a lot of things. Like why I wanted to be a video game developer. Or why I liked "wasteful" art and writing rather than "useful" STEM subjects. Or who I am.

I looked over to Sara and saw their bleary eyes staring back at me.

"Mom again?" They slurred, still half-asleep.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"I'm sorry, hon."

"Not your fault. Go back to sleep," I whispered.

"Not without youuuu," they replied with an exaggerated whine.

"Fiiiine," I returned with the same pouty lilt.

The gray fox briefly forced a contented smile as I slid under the covers and took them into my arms. As it quickly gave way to a neutral mask, there was an unmistakable hurt betrayed in their sapphire eyes. They revealed why before I could ask, although I already knew the answer. We'd had this conversation so many times before, and we'd have it again. But I couldn't blame them. Shame cuts deep.

"It is my fault." They were cold, almost matter-of-fact, as though they were stating something that should be plainly obvious.

"Sara, it has nothing to do with you. I know what they said, but it isn't your fault." I said, trying to prevent the spiral I knew was coming.

"It has everything to do with me. They wouldn't have cut you off if you weren't with me, they said as much themselves." They continued to speak as though they were simply stating what I already knew, but their voice was cut more and more with squeaking cracks as tears welled up.

"That was their decision, Sara. Besides, I'm gay whether I'd met you or not. They were going to find out eventually and it would have ended up the same regardless. The only difference would be that I didn't have you in my life."

Thankfully, that seemed to stop them from falling any further for now. The fox drew a long, shaky breath, sighed, and pressed their face between my muzzle and the pillow. I gently ran my paw back and forth through the satin fur on their back, while they sniffled quietly into the gap.

"I love you, Sara."

Bzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt.

I flailed a paw around the nightstand behind me and snatched up the phone, hitting the button on the side to decline the call as I did.

Bzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt.

I declined the call again, but swiped the phone open and navigated to my text conversation with my mother to see her typing. I didn't wait to see what it was.

Today 5:41AM: You made your decision. Now you have to live with it. Leave us alone.

Of course, Mom ignored that.

Today 5:41AM: This is ridiculous. We love you. And we love Sara too, even though I know you don't believe us.

Today 5:42AM: I know you believe that, but you don't. What you did to us isn't love, and you don't get to cut me off and then get upset when I don't want you back in my life. Sara is crying right now because of you, so I have more important things to do than argue.

I set the phone back onto the nightstand and made a point of pressing my body back into Sara's.

"Sorry."

Bzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt.

Defeated, I pinned my ears to my head to muffle the sound and left the phone to continue vibrating. Some part of me wanted to love Mom, to talk to her, just to have some positive, healthy contact with her again. But her and Dad cut me off when they found out I was in a relationship with Sara through a social media post one of their friends linked to them. They cut me off to "encourage me to find my faith again," but I saw it for the ultimatum it was: "Be happy with Sara, or be miserable with us." As much as I'd like to say I hesitated or that it was a difficult choice for me to make, I resolved to never speak to them again that day. And I was doing quite well until they started to miss me. And how much could one conversation really hurt? The level of vitriol towards Sara, towards the person who "took me from them" was just...

They couldn't conceive that it was only their own actions that had created that rift. It was like the loving parents I knew growing up had completely changed. Of course, they hadn't changed. And neither had I. The only difference was that they knew who I really was, now. And I found out who they really were when that wasn't enough for them.

Fuck.

I squeezed Sara tight as tears began to well up in my eyes, now. They held me silently, and soothed me with the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of their chest against mine. I didn't have any words left, but my silence spoke for me.