Hi guys, some of you know that I write parodies. However, will not allow these parodies. So if you would like to read them, email me and I'll tell you where you can find them. Chapter 8: Who Can Give Comfort?

Marco couldn't take it anymore. He clenched his fists angrily and waited for his father. Marco's papa rushed back into the room holding the baseball bat. Marco grabbed the bat from his father's surprisingly loose grip. Marco's papa's face took on a shocked and victimized expression. For some reason, this expression only made Marco twice as angry as he had been.

Marco's emotions suddenly overflowed. He yelled loudly and hit his papa hard over the head with the bat. It was only one hit, but Marco's papa immediately slumped to the floor as though he were a doll and not a person.

"Papa," said Marco, "wake up." Marco felt somehow outside himself, as though he were watching all this from the other end of the room. Reality was becoming more surreal by the second.

"Marco," he heard his mother's voice whispering to him. "You killed him." She didn't sound accusing or even surprised, just very, very sad.

"No," Marco said in horror, "I didn't mean to. I didn't want to."

Marco looked down at his father's body. This couldn't be real. Marco turned and tried to run, but he couldn't move, he couldn't get away from this..."


Marco jerked awake. He found that he was lying in his bed, fully dressed. He must have fallen asleep after the whole "incident". Marco exhaled loudly and relaxed a bit.

"What were you dreaming?" asked a quiet voice at his side. It was his mama, sitting not two feet away from him.

"Mama," Marco said in surprise. "How long have you been here?"

"A while," said Marco's mama. There was an awkward silence between them. Neither of them seemed to know what to say. Neither of them could look at the other one.

"Mama," Marco said after a long period of silence. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't want to be this way."

"I know," said Marco's mother softly.

"This is just the way I am," said Marco desperately, "please try to understand. I'm just gay."

"I know." said Marco's mother even more softly. She cleared her throat. "I've always known."

Marco looked at his mother in surprise. "You've always known?" he asked, "What do you mean "you've always known"?"

"Since you were little boy," she said beginning to cry. "There are some things that a mother just knows."

"But...if you knew than why did you react the way that you did?" Marco asked the obvious question.

"I-I just didn't want to admit it to myself." she said, "I was afraid. I was afraid that if your papa found out, then he would never be the same with you. I was afraid of my family being torn."

"Tell me about it," said Marco.

"Oh, I'm sorry Marco," said his mother trying to dry her tears and failing utterly. "I should be comforting you. It's just that it's hard for me too." For the first time, she looked Marco directly in the eye.

"So does Papa want to send me away?" asked Marco.

"Well, he was talking about it," said Marco's mother trying to smile,"but he won't. You know how he is, his bark is worse than his bite."

"Yeah," Marco said after thinking about it, "but that doesn't mean that he's okay with it."

"No," Marco's mother replied, "it doesn't."

"A-are you okay with it." Marco ventured to ask. It was the important question. The one that they had both been tip-toeing around.

"Well, I'm a little bit shaken," said Marco's mama, trying to smile, "but, yes, I am okay. Or I'm going to be okay."

"Thank you Mama," whispered Marco, tears welling up in his eyes. Marco hugged his mother and they both cried.