Chapter 1
2597words
Today had been absolute insanity.
Three hours ago, I'd naively believed Aunt Margaret was finally going to apologize. When she texted asking to meet at the Olive Garden downtown, I actually felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, after all these years, she'd finally recognized her mistakes.
God, was I wrong.
"Emily, dear." She stood to hug me, her voice dripping with that sickeningly fake sweetness that turned my stomach. She wore a conservative navy blue dress with an enormous gold crucifix dangling from her neck.
"Aunt." I responded politely, my body rigid with tension.
The moment we sat down, she launched into her "sermon."
"Emily, I know you might think I was too harsh with you in the past, but it was all out of love." Her blue eyes gleamed with religious fervor. "I've been praying for you constantly, praying for your soul."
"Aunt, if you're trying to—"
"Let me finish." She cut me off, her voice growing urgent. "Tomorrow, September 24th, is the day chosen by the Lord. The Rapture is coming, and true believers will be lifted to heaven. And you all…" She shook her head, eyes brimming with pity, "You who haven't truly given your lives to Christ will be left behind in this sinful world."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she plowed on.
"I feel so sorry for you, Emily. You've chosen the path of sin and refused to repent. Your… that lifestyle," she whispered the word 'lifestyle' like it was obscene, "has sealed your fate. You cannot enter the kingdom of heaven."
Anger flared in my chest, but I kept my cool. "Aunt, I'm bisexual. It's not a choice, it's who I am—"
"This is Satan's temptation!" She snapped, loud enough to make nearby diners turn and stare. Then she leaned in, dropping her voice. "But even so, I can't just stand by and watch you suffer."
With that, she pulled the manila envelope from her purse.
"This is my savings," she pushed the envelope toward me. "Forty thousand dollars. I want to give it to the unfortunate, because tomorrow when the Rapture comes and takes me to the Lord's side, I'll no longer need these earthly possessions."
I stared at the envelope, stunned speechless. "Aunt, I can't take this—"
"Take it," she insisted, "consider it my final charitable act. When the Rapture happens tomorrow and you're left behind, at least you'll have money to survive for a while in this apocalyptic world."
She stood abruptly and rushed out of the restaurant before I could even respond.
I sat there, clutching $40,000 in cash, feeling like I'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.
Now lying in bed, I can't help but revisit the painful memories. Aunt Margaret's hostility toward me wasn't new.
Thanksgiving, 2019, I was 16 years old
That was my first Thanksgiving after coming out. I still remember the knot of fear in my stomach as I sat at the dinner table. Aunt Margaret sat across from me, Bible perched on her knees, her sharp blue eyes boring into me like talons.
"Emily, dear," she began, her voice sickly sweet, "I've been praying for you."
"Thank you, Aunt." I was still attempting politeness back then.
"I pray the Lord will heal the sin in your heart. This… homosexual demon must be cast out." Her voice rose, making other family members squirm in their seats.
"Margaret…" Dad warned.
But she pressed on: "Leviticus 18:22 clearly states, 'Do not have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman; that is detestable.' Emily, you're choosing a path of sin."
I was only 16 then, but I'd had enough. "Aunt, I'm bisexual, not lesbian. And Leviticus also says you can't eat shellfish or wear mixed fabrics. Isn't that sweater wool and polyester?"
Her face flushed crimson. "Don't use your smart mouth to blaspheme God's word! Repent, or you'll burn in hell!"
That's when Mom stood up.
"Enough, Margaret." Mom's voice was quiet but carried steel. "This is our home, and Emily is our daughter. If you can't respect her, then you're no longer welcome here."
After that confrontation, my aunt was officially "grounded" for a while. But she never truly changed—she just got sneakier with her hatred. Random Bible verse texts, icy glares at family gatherings, and those passive-aggressive "I'm praying for you" comments.
My phone rang—Mom calling.
"Emily, we need to talk. Margaret just gave Sophia a car."
"What?" I bolted upright.
"Her Ford Mustang. She drove it straight to our house, tossed the keys to Sophia, saying it was 'a gift for a pure child.' Then she mentioned she'd given you money too."
I took a deep breath. "Yeah, forty grand."
Silence hung on the line for several seconds.
"Emily, you need to return that money. She's clearly not well."
"But Mom—"
"No buts. It's the right thing to do. I know she's been awful to you, but she needs help now, not exploitation."
Just then, I heard Dad's voice in the background: "Let me talk to her."
"Emy," Dad took the phone, "listen, I know what your mother said, but I see it differently. If Margaret is crazy enough to give away her life savings, that money would be better spent on your education."
"Dave!" Mom protested in the background.
"Linda, she's tormented Emily for years. If she wants to pay for her actions, then damn it, let her pay."
After hanging up, I felt even more conflicted. Mom wanted me to do the right thing, while Dad supported me keeping the cash.
I walked to the window and gazed out at the quiet campus. Tomorrow is September 24th—"Rapture Day" in Aunt Margaret's deluded mind.
I imagined her face tomorrow morning when she wakes up still on Earth. Imagined her scrambling to explain why the "Rapture" didn't happen. Imagined her rage when she realizes she gave her life savings to the person she despises most.
But then I remembered sobbing in the bathroom after that Thanksgiving dinner. Remembered all the times she called me an "abomination." Remembered how she tried to convince me I was born wrong, born broken.
Maybe… maybe this isn't about money at all. Maybe it's about justice.
I grabbed my phone and texted Jessica:
"Wake up. We need to talk. I have a crazy plan."
A few minutes later, she sat up groggily. "Emy, it's freaking 2 AM…"
"Jess, what would you say if I told you we could make a religious fanatic believe that only LGBT people ascended to heaven?"
Jessica blinked, suddenly wide awake. "I'd say that sounds fucking brilliant. Tell me more."
I took a deep breath and began outlining my plan.
If Aunt Margaret wanted a miracle, I'd give her one she'd never forget.
A rainbow-colored miracle.
"So your plan is…" Jessica scribbled notes as I spoke, "to stage a fake 'rapture scene' in her backyard using rainbow-colored clothes and shoes?"
"Exactly." I nodded. "The rainbow is the LGBT symbol. If we can make people believe only queer folks were 'raptured,' imagine her meltdown."
"That's so deliciously evil," Jessica grinned wickedly. "I'm all in. But we need to make it look convincing."
"Already thought about that. We'll need rainbow T-shirts, rainbow shoes, and stuff to make footprints—like someone wearing these clothes literally ascended straight to heaven."
"So you'll 'vanish' for a few days, making everyone think you actually got raptured?"
"Exactly. And I'll make sure the 'Rainbow Rapture Theory' starts trending online. Social media will do the rest."
Jessica fell silent for a moment, then said: "Emy, this plan is batshit crazy. But after everything she's put you through…"
"She deserves it," I said firmly. "This isn't about the money. It's about showing her that prejudice and hatred eventually come back to bite you in the ass."
"Alright," Jessica stood up, "we start prepping tomorrow. But Emy…"
"What?"
"When all this is over, are you really ready to face the fallout?"
I looked at the envelope containing $40,000, remembering all those painful moments, remembering the disgust and contempt in Aunt Margaret's eyes.
"I'm ready."
Tomorrow is Rapture Day.
But what Aunt Margaret doesn't know is that the "miracle" she's about to witness will make her lose her goddamn mind.
September 24th, 6 AM.
My alarm hadn't gone off yet, but I was already wide awake. Today was "Rapture Day"—the end of the world according to Aunt Margaret's delusion.
More importantly, today was the day my revenge plan kicked into action.
Jessica was already up, perched on her bed with a notebook filled with bullet points from our late-night scheming session.
"Morning, goddess of revenge." She grinned wickedly. "Ready to completely shatter a religious fanatic's worldview?"
I sat up, eyeing the manila envelope still on my desk. $40,000. This wasn't just cash; it was the ransom for my dignity.
"More ready than I've ever been."
Jessica flipped open her notebook for me to see. Her handwriting was meticulous, just like her biology lab reports.
"Rainbow Rapture" Operation Plan
Time: September 24th, 11 PM - 3 AM the next day
Location: Aunt Margaret's backyard
Required items:
1. Rainbow Pride T-shirt (XL size, clearly adult-sized)
2. Rainbow sneakers (size 9, my shoe size)
3. Rainbow socks
4. White powder (flour) for creating "ascension traces"
5. Footprint stencils
6. Phone stand and camera (to document the "scene")
Execution steps:
1. Infiltrate backyard at 11 PM
2. Arrange rainbow clothing in "ascension sequence"
3. Create footprint trail from clothing toward sky using flour
4. Document scene with photos
5. Emily "vanishes" for 48 hours
6. Launch "Rainbow Rapture Theory" online campaign
"Jess, you're an absolute genius." I studied the plan carefully. "But how do we make sure someone actually discovers this scene?"
"Already handled," she said smugly. "I'll anonymously tip off the local news station about a 'supernatural phenomenon.' It's Rapture Day—they'll be desperate for content like this."
I couldn't help but admire her thoroughness. "What about the online spread?"
"I've got multiple burner accounts specifically for posting conspiracy theories. I'll blast the 'Rainbow Rapture Theory' across Reddit, Twitter, and TikTok simultaneously. Trust me, on a day like this, it'll spread like wildfire."
At 8 AM, we hit Target downtown. Being LGBT-friendly, they had the most extensive rainbow merchandise selection.
"We need these clothes to look genuinely worn," Jessica said, rifling through rainbow T-shirts. "Not brand new, but not threadbare either."
I picked up a rainbow Pride T-shirt with "LOVE IS LOVE" emblazoned across the front. The phrase reminded me both of my courage when coming out and Aunt Margaret's disgusted sneer.
"This one," I decided.
We also grabbed rainbow sneakers, rainbow socks, and our "rapture props": flour, a small spray bottle, and even a container of glitter.
"Glitter is the pièce de résistance," Jessica explained. "Imagine those 'ascension traces' catching the morning sunlight—divine sparkle effect."
The cashier, a young woman, smiled knowingly at our purchases. "Pride event?"
"Something like that," I answered, thinking: It's definitely a Pride event—just not the kind she's imagining.
While shopping, my phone pinged with a text from my sister Sophia.
Sophia: OMG Emy you won't BELIEVE what just happened!!! Aunt Margaret rolled up in her Mustang, literally THREW the keys at me, and said it was "a gift for the pure child"!!!
Sophia: Then she gave Mom a check for "her final church donation." Mom almost passed out when she saw how much it was.
Me: How much?
Sophia: $20,000!!! She's literally giving away EVERYTHING!
I showed Jessica the texts. She let out a low whistle.
"Looks like your aunt genuinely believes today's doomsday," she said. "Makes our plan even more perfect. When she wakes up tomorrow and realizes she didn't ascend, she's broke, and the only ones who 'ascended' were the queer folks she despises…"
"She'll absolutely lose it," I finished.
My phone rang again—Mom calling.
"Emily, Margaret's situation is worse than we thought. She gave Sophia her car this morning and donated all her remaining money to the church. She truly believes today is the end of the world."
"Mom, maybe this is actually a good thing. At least she can't hurt anyone anymore."
"Emily!" Mom's voice sharpened. "She's mentally unwell. We should be helping her, not exploiting her condition."
"Mom," I took a deep breath, "she's tormented me for years. If she wants to pay for her actions, then let her pay."
After hanging up, Jessica squeezed my shoulder. "You're doing the right thing, Emy. Some people only learn their lesson after losing everything."
That afternoon, we returned to our dorm and started researching the "scientific basis" for the "ascension phenomenon."
Jessica dove into religious websites and conspiracy forums on her laptop.
"Check this out," she pointed at her screen. "This guy claims during rapture, clothing and personal items get left behind because 'earthly adornments cannot enter heaven.'"
"Perfect," I said. "That explains exactly why rainbow clothing would remain behind."
"And here," she continued scrolling, "there's a theory that ascension produces 'divine radiance'—which is exactly what our glitter will simulate."
We spent the entire afternoon studying various "Rapture theories" for "scientific evidence" to support our plan. The deeper we went, the more I marveled at how absurd these theories were—and how easily my aunt had been ensnared by them.
By evening, Jessica was preparing her social media assault.
"I'll use three separate accounts," she explained while typing furiously. "First, a 'religious scholar' posting 'academic' analyses; second, an 'eyewitness' claiming to have seen rainbow lights; and third, an 'LGBT activist' celebrating the symbolic victory of the 'Rainbow Rapture.'"
"You sure this won't be traced back to us?"
"Trust me, on the internet, nobody knows you're a dog," she grinned. "Besides, on days like Rapture Day, people will believe any halfway plausible explanation."
She showed me the first tweet she was drafting:
@ReligiousScholar2024: My extensive research of ancient texts reveals rainbows have always been divine symbols. If the Rapture occurs, the LGBT community—as "the oppressed righteous"—being chosen first aligns perfectly with theological precedent. #RainbowRapture #Pride #Rapture
"This is brilliant," I said admiringly. "It sounds scholarly enough to be credible but controversial enough to go viral."
At 9 PM, we began final preparations.
I dressed in all black, ninja-style. Jessica inventoried our equipment: rainbow clothing, flour, glitter, camera, flashlight.
"Remember," she said gravely, "we get one shot at this. If we're caught, the whole plan falls apart."
"We won't be," I said confidently. "Aunt Margaret will be at church with her fellow believers 'awaiting the Rapture.' Her house will be empty."
We double-checked every detail—timing, escape routes, contingency plans. Everything was set.
At 10:30 PM, we sat in Jessica's car, parked on the street near my aunt's house. The place was completely dark, exactly as expected.
"Last chance to back out," Jessica said quietly. "Once we start, there's no turning back."
I remembered the contempt in my aunt's eyes yesterday. I remembered her calling me "abominable" when I was 16. I remembered all those nights I spent crying alone in the bathroom.
"I'm sure."
I grabbed the bag of rainbow gear and took a deep breath.
"Well then," Jessica started the timer on her phone, "let's unleash some rainbow revenge."
The moon hung high overhead, a silent witness to our perfect revenge. Aunt Margaret thought she'd be ascending to heaven tonight, but the real "miracle" was about to happen in her own backyard.
A rainbow miracle that would drive her absolutely insane.
