Turning Heaven into Hell

"Yeah. He's always scared me, he acts so stiff and righteous. Sometimes when I think he's looking at me, it's as if he's looking right through me," she said nervously.

"That's kind of how the preacher had me feeling," I ventured. Maybe this was the time for some real personal talk between us. "Is he always that way? I mean, does he always come on like that; so as if ready to condemn, or to warn of hell?"

"Uh-huh! As far as I can remember."

"Shannon, if I'm stepping out of line, let me know, but the congregation seemed all for it, kind of completely in-step with him. Am I right, or does it seem that way to you?"

"It does; uh, they do, are believers in what he says and preaches."

"Oh. Didn't mean to sound critical, just wondering. As I said, I've never heard preaching like that."

"That's okay, and thanks. How they are, how he preaches, well, that's how it is in our church. I guess you won't want to be going to our services again."

"Not especially, no, but if it works out for us to do so, and you ask me too, I'll go. I don't have to be a believer as everyone there is, do I?"

"No, no. I was just saying..." she left off.

"Shannon, you're my friend. The best friend ever, and as long as I can believe as I might, I don't mind how you believe; you'll always be my friend—always and forever!" I gushed.

Her hand reached out and gave mine a strong squeeze sending her warmth all through me again.

"Yes, always and forever," she said with vigor. "Thank you, and good night, Brooke."

"Good night, Shannon," I said, expecting that she wouldn't let go of my hand; I was right.

Chapter 3

Inevitably I was thinking more about Shannon, particularly how I was having deeper feelings for her. I realized that the idea of ever being parted from her was something I didn't want to happen no matter what. Was it that I was reading something into her that I'd conjured up due to how I sensed her fear of not only the lead singer, but of the preacher and his strident message?

Whatever was happening with her, I felt my joy on seeing her work on me more and more. When I'd see her for the first time each day, I would feel my heart leap for joy within my breast. She was affecting me like nothing I'd ever imagined. I'd not really thought of marrying and having children; that was just something that I supposed would eventually happen even though I couldn't remember ever thinking of it. In fact, I realized that I wasn't even interested in boys.

Still, I kept my growing feelings from her, saying nothing, and making sure that I didn't give off any overt signs of my newly realized feelings for her. I honestly couldn't say that they were feelings of love though. I'd never been in love, so I had no idea what it was. I must have been doing a good job of hiding the new thoughts and feelings for she gave no hint that anything might be different from our usual times together. Instead I noticed that at times she was increasingly tense, even nervous, though when she spoke to me, all seemed fine with her. At last, the Christmas vacation was upon us, and Shannon came over on Friday, and she was pretty jittery.

* * * *

I pushed some small talk; her participation was just about nil. I knew that there was something very wrong, but what it might be escaped me. At last she spoke, but not what I thought it would be.

"Good night, Brooke," she said, not reaching for my hand. "I guess I won't be coming over after tonight."

I thought I heard a small sob being stifled.

"Why? Are you moving away, or something like that?" I asked worriedly.

In a moment, she said, "No. I just have to be honest with you, and I can't hold it in any longer."

"What is it, Shannon? What's wrong?" I became nervous.

"You'll probably hate me, but I have to tell you something. I can't hold it in any longer."

Wondering what it could be, I had to ask. "Wha—what can't you hold in? Tell me, Shannon."

I was about to freak out.

"I lo—love you, Brooke," she strained to whisper.

"I love you too. You're my best friend...forever! Remember?"

"Yes, I remember, but it's not like that. I really love you. I'm in love with you, Brooke, and it's killing me. I just know you'll hate me now," she began to cry in earnest, though trying to hold it back.

She turned away from while stifling her sobs. "I'm so—sorry. So sorry," she said softly, her body shaking with her crying.

My person was taking in this miraculous happening from the moment she said that she was in love with me. My heart felt as if it would burst with joy, and suddenly I knew that all of the growing feelings—even from the time I first saw her—were all trying to tell me that this was the person I would love, the person I did love. As she cried soft as she could, without thought I crept to be as close to her back as I could get. At last, pressing tenderly against her, my head went to the side of her head. With one hand, I dared to touch her beautiful hair that I'd so often longed to touch.

Moving it aside, and bending to her ear, I whispered to her.

"Hush, Shannon. Hush! I love you," I whispered as softly as I could, and felt my lips gently kissing her neck.

As I said that, and kissed her, I felt her body react with a slight, sudden attempt to move and turn around.

"You...?"

"God yes, I love you, and I've been trying to let myself know it for some time, but I was afraid to say anything that might ruin things between us. I've wondered lately, consciously, whether I was falling in love with you, but I couldn't let myself think that way," I ended, and kissed her neck again, but my lips stayed where I kissed her.

"Y—you really love me?" she asked in a voice that was as a quiet squeak.

She tried to turn to face me, but I held her fast.

"Let me hold you like this, you feel so sweet to me," I said, noting the awareness of my love finally coming out, letting me realize that this was all truly happening, that my love was a thing of wonder, of beauty almost as beautiful as Shannon as I was allowing myself to know in an ever growing moment of this marvelous happening.

"I knew something was bothering you lately, but I had no idea what it was. The only thing I could think of was your fear of the church for some unknown reason."

"Oh, God," she interrupted me. "Oh, God, no, Brooke. We can't be in love. I can't let you go to hell for loving me. I can't," her panic reared it's ugly head. "God will send you to hell! I deserve it, but not you.No," she nearly screamed, such was the tenseness in her voice.

"No!" I told her, a near panic rapidly building in me. "God couldn't send us to hell for loving each other, our love feels so sweet. He couldn't do that, but if that's how it must be, then it's too late. I love you. It's out, and I know it and can't stop it, and I won't stop loving you. I won't."

"But...but..." she tried to say something.

I turned her to face me, not liking to give her up as we'd been, but needing to for the moment. The moment turned into a kiss. It was soft, our lips finally coming to know each other's, but our love, and the intenseness of the possible impediment to our love made us desperate, and our kiss intensified. We both wanted it, needed it, and we refused to leave off of our lips.

For ever so long, we kissed and it became passionate, some part of us knowing that there was more to occur than just the kiss, but we were both new at love, especially love as we were feeling, though our bodies tried to tell us with their pressing together.

Breathing heavily, huffing as it were, my mind still a muddle as I sensed hers was too, we looked at each other in the darkness of the room, but our hands, like our bodies, were doing what they knew to do. They explored each other's body, especially paying heed to our heaving breasts.

"I'll hate myself, Brooke, but I know I can't let you go. Tell me, do you really think God won't punish us for loving each other?" she said, a quiet sniffling beginning again.

"I don't think so, but I don't know for sure. What I do know is that I do love you, and now that I know that you love me, there's no way I'll let you go. I can't, Shannon."

"What are we going to do?" she asked plaintively.

I had no knowledge of what we should do. My ignorance of the bible was fast being revealed to me.

"I'm not sure. Does the bible truly say that we're to be condemned? Have you read that?"

She must have thought for a long moment while I fought with my despair over maybe not being allowed by God to love Shannon.

"I've never read it, personally," she admitted, "but our preacher said it over and over, and very positively as you heard," she said, but in a questioning tone of voice.

"Maybe we should find out for ourselves. In the meantime, I refuse to deny my love of you."

"Me too," she screwed up the courage to say as I had. "I'll worry about it, but like you, I won't give up my love for you."

Amidst a lot of small, and some not so small, kisses as we held each other closely, we talked about other things that we should do, and many that we shouldn't do. We set ourselves some rules of behavior in public, especially at home and school, as well as in public. We also decided to take care not to hold hands, or otherwise touch in any way. We didn't want to give anyone a hint that we were in love.

I hated it as did Shannon, but we knew that we wanted to be together forever. That's what we had been leading to, and we both sensed that to be true. Even more, though we were of legal age, we told ourselves that we had to graduate, then find a way to go to the same college, which was something we were going to do anyway. But with knowing of our love, it took on the utmost importance to us. We refused to be parted.

However, for the time being, this night would have to do us, but we knew that our love would see us through whatever we had to endure. We kissed again and held hands under the covers, but otherwise stayed apart.

* * * *

Christmas was very tough on us. We did meet quite a few times through the holidays, and we were as circumspect as we could be though we didn't like it. Alone, she confessed to me that when her love of me was becoming too strong to be silent, she worried about dragging me down to hell if by some miracle I happened to love her in return. Of course, she didn't know that I already loved her, but she hated taking the chance. They had her terrified of being a lesbian, and she knew that in time, she would worry herself into an ulcer, and more, for she had no wish to be with any man.

She also knew that when her parents did know about her sexual preference, that they would disavow her. Saving grace was that she knew that I wouldn't mind waiting for her until we were able to be on our own. I had no idea how my parents would deal with how I felt, but I sensed that they wouldn't be quite as Shannon's parents.

She still worried about us going to hell, and maybe more for being the cause of my own destruction at God's hand, but I told her that eventually, I would come out as a lesbian for I, too, had no interest in men. That mollified her, but not enough to stop her worrying. What I told her was that we should go to a library and give the bible a real reading. We were afraid that if we did it too often at home, the questions might become too dicey. She agreed.

Since I was in my senior year, I had the free run of our second car, so when we could during the holidays, we made for a library that was distant from where we lived. We didn't think we could even go to the main library as others who knew us might see us and start talking. We were committed to being as secretive as we could be for we didn't want any foolish error to ruin our love. We were adamant about it.

We did get out a few times, and the library we found seemed quite safe for us. However, as we read, starting with Genesis, we found that it was all too difficult for us to be truly objective. Frankly, it confused us. In talking about it, we decided that our objectivity was too compromised by what we were taught. It was too difficult for us to criticize the bible. It had been too drilled into us, especially Shannon, that it was God's very own word.

The first real criticism that we tried to make was the two different versions of the creation of people. We saw the vast difference of the telling of the two, but we just couldn't get ourselves to allow our minds to grasp it as an error. How could God make a mistake? We felt that we were too new at this, that our understanding was lacking.

"It's an error, Brooke, and it's not supposed to be an error, but the thought keeps coming back that I just don't have the understanding that I should have," she said glumly, her face crestfallen at what she saw as her failed effort.

"Me too, but I know that it is an error, though I keep wanting to find reason to defend it. This is horrible, and we just started. Maybe it'll get better for us if we keep on pushing," I opined.

* * * *

We did try again and again, but we were our own worst enemies. When we'd find something, our minds kept rebelling; our minds kept derailing us. But our being together as we were did make for strengthening the bond of our love, and our resolve didn't falter. Side-by-side, we sensed we had a purpose, and that it was our love that drove us. It was that growing togetherness that had our love strengthening. We were doing it together.

We made it through the holidays a little dispirited, but we had to be together, and like the kids we were in our first love; we persisted in our love that we knew was forever.

Every time I thought of Shannon, when I thought of her, or saw her, or talked to her, which we didn't do enough to satisfy us, she made my heart jump. At school, when I'd first see her nearing me, that sweeter than sweet smile shyly on her face, my heart in my breast was as if wanting to hop out of my breast with my growing desire to love her. God, she was so pretty. I loved her red hair, its rich color and its perfect length, not to mention her bright green eyes and all those freckles sprinkled somewhat liberally on her face and downward, too.

I knew that I had to keep my feelings to myself, and hated that I couldn't do as good a job at hiding it as she did. What we both wanted to do, if not hug and kiss, was to at least hold hands. We couldn't. Still, lucky me, for I knew she loved me.

"Hey, Brooke," she greeted me.

"Hey to you too, Shannon. Ready for our next class?"

"Yeah. Let's go," and with that, off we went with joy in our hearts to be with each other even in this limited way.

Chapter 4

It was an unexpected surprise when my mother, in early March, literally tossed our love a marvelous gift.

"Brooke, honey, your brother invited us to go see him play. He's doing great, at least your father says so. His team isn't doing so good, but he's supposed to be hitting like gang busters. The problem is that we know you can't go, and he's wanting us to see a four game series. Your father is anxious to go, but I can't see leaving you alone. Do you think that Shannon's parents might allow her to say with you for four or five days? If they'll permit it, then I'll go with your father; if not, I'll have him go alone."

Talk about wanting to jump for joy, it was the hardest thing to keep from doing that, and even harder to keep a straight face as if I was considering if it were possible. Of course Shannon's parents did have to agree, but I thought maybe, just maybe, they might.

"Gee, Mom, her parent's are pretty straight-laced, but maybe Shannon can think of some way to push it. I know Shannon will want to do it for you."

"Oh, I hope so. I would like to see Brian play. Well, see what can be done, and if it's to be, it'll be, huh?" she said and kissed my cheek.

Shannon was about to burst when I told her, but quickly got herself under control. Still, during lunch, I could see her excitement wanting to jump out, but again, that marvelous control she had came to the rescue, and none noticed, especially Julia who was in her swoon mood when I told her my parents were going to see Brian play.

"Do you think they'd let me tag along?" she asked, but already knowing the answer.

"Nope, not a chance," I said with a small grin.

Her antics kept Shannon's antsy self from being noticed for sure, but I thought it wouldn't have been noticed anyway. Still, some insurance was good.

* * * *

I was anxious as could be until I saw Shannon, who was trying to hide her even greater excitement.

"She said it was good and proper both that your mother go with your father to see their son, and for you not to be alone. The only qualifier she put on us was that we, or I, that is, go to church on Sunday."

Truth be told, it was more than hard for me to hold in my own excitement. They were going to leave early on Thursday, and Shannon was to spend the night, and we'd go to school together.

I told my mother. "Oh, thank goodness. That was very sweet of her. I'll have to write a thank you note when we return."

The return date was to be Monday as they wanted to spend a little time with Brian,

* * * *

They left on Wednesday. I told myself not to show my own joy at finally getting to be alone with Shannon, which would start when we were home after school. My mother had left a couple of hundred dollars for eating out a few times, or for any emergency that might pop up; of course, I had their cell phone number.

At school, though it wasn't noticeable to anyone else, having watched her so much over the last two years, it was easy for me to see how nervous, and, or, excited she was. Truth be told, I had to admit that I was just as bad, and only hoped that I was half as good at hiding it as Shannon was.

I do admit that I was very anxiety ridden as I'm sure that Shannon was, so was I—virginal, that is. It wasn't that I was a goody-two-shoes, or saving myself until whatever. It's that I was always content with my life, at least until I saw Shannon. Even then, I only sensed that first, I was sort of enchanted by her, then wanted her for a friend. And that was it—I mean, she sort of cast a spell on me, as I guess I did on her—we didn't want to do anything, or say anything, that might endanger our friendship.

When she did confess her love of me, I was shocked, but more than that, I was also instantly happy—ecstatic, even—for I had been harboring thoughts of love that I had kept bottled up inside of me for fear of losing her friendship. Yes, her friendship had grown into everything for me, as I guess my friendship had for her, but she had a problem with her church that I didn't, so, I have to say, her confession of love of me had to be a thing of desperation for her, of great fear, but she had to get it out.

Until then, I hadn't thought of sex with her. In fact, as a virgin, I really knew nothing about sex, or maybe I should say, sex with another woman. All I knew was that suddenly my vagina felt free to let me know in no uncertain terms that sex would be one of the final steps of giving expression to our love; joyfully giving our love to each other in every way was the final expression of our love. As it was in our friendship, giving fully to each other—or as fully as we knew how—along with an unstinting honesty that we never seemed to have to think about, was how I knew our love was to be.

Of a truth, sometime either before I met Shannon, or very early into getting to know her, I had heard about how lesbians were normally thought to have sex. My knee-jerk reaction at the time was pretty much Ugh! That had to be, I had thought, repulsive, then I promptly forgot about it.

I have to say that somewhere within me, the knowledge of loving her was suddenly a given, one that I didn't dwell on as to how, or how I would feel about it. The fact that it was soon to be often had my heart aflutter. Worse, or better, I should say, my mind increasingly had me trying to conjure up whether or not her pubic hair was as beautiful and sweet looking as the hair on her head. Before that went too far in my mind, I would stop at wondering about her vagina. Whatever, that was there, and it did stir me something fierce no matter that I never allowed it to be completed. Still, my breath was somewhat stifled each time.