We're All Trying To Get Back Home

“We’re All Trying To Get Back Home” was selected for THE BODY microprose longlist. — CW: assault after “You Are Jeff” by Richard Siken You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you he loves you, but you tell him you do. And you feel like you’ve done something right, like finished your homework, or returned the book you’ve borrowed from a teacher, and you’re excited. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he lays you flat against the backseat so gently, his wide mouth over your scrunched lips, and you realize love tastes like cheeseburgers, or skunk maybe, but you are too high to tell the difference, too high to feel gooseflesh as he tries to pull down your underwear. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he only laughs when you ask if he has a condom, and you try to laugh too because you don’t want to ruin your first time, but the sound trips over your tongue, like the music in your jewelry box slowing to a stop. You’re trying to choke down that feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches for his cock and thrusts inside you, as far as the thin fabric will let him, and you grip the elastic band high and tight. You’re in a car with a boy, and you try to remind yourself this is love, but you sink deeper into a fog, and all you can feel is your fist at your hip, and a prayer rising like bile in your throat. You’re in a car, and you look up for stars, but only find shadows on the splotched carpet ceiling. And yet, your free hand reaches toward that stained sky, some glimpse of childhood guiding it skyward, and suddenly your hand is a dark goose. Fearless camel. Brave hound. You’re in a car but you’re a beautiful bird, leaping from the ledge of the cracked window and into moonlight. — When GCB is not writing, you can find her eating honey mangos in the kitchen. This is their first publication. Feel free to follow them on Twitter: @atinywalrus.