I live on a relatively posh estate, in the house that was passed down to me by my grandfather. I was his favourite, he always used to spoil me. But I never realised why. Until he gave me his house, a few months back, after passing away suddenly. I discovered a stack of letters in his study, whilst moving in. They were all labelled "To Dan" and I did not halt to open them. Each and every one was detailed with his struggles with his wife, my grandma. He had written about how he never truly loved her, and how he married her to hide a secret. They all read the same, except the very end one. This was written sloppily, as if he was emotional and unstable when writing, there were a few smudges on the paper which I thought could be tear marks. 'I am sorry. I have hidden this for 70 years, and I feel as though telling you would break your heart. Not sure why. I am certain you are in the same position as me. I love you Dan. I love you so much. I need to tell you this. Make you feel safe in the world we live in today. I am gay. I understand if you now resent me, and I'm sorry for it. But I understand how you feel. Even if you do not know it yet, I know you are too. We share this in a world which treats us like vermin, like we are under them. Please burn these letters. And I pray to God you found them first. I am sorry, I have to go. Someone knows. I am sure of it. Someone has been watching me for the past few months. Someone will kill me. Trust no one, trust only yourself. Be safe my child.' The letter hit me deep, I was so unaware that my grandpa was gay. I had hidden the fact I was for 3 years, and could not imagine the pain and struggle of hiding it for 70. I read it over and over, and slowly it sunk in that my grandpa died because someone had found out his sexuality, and killed him. I felt faint, the odour of vomit hit my nostrils. I had thrown up without even realising. 'Trust no one, trust only yourself' rang through my ears, it waved in front of my eyes, imprinting itself on my brain, scorching itself into my memory. My grandpa was murdered, for something of which he had had no choice. No choice at all. And I am in danger of such too. I live in a world which thinks homosexuality is a sin, an abomination, thinking a homosexual person is the spawn of the devil, without the right of human life. And I am a rat in their sewers, a miscreant on their streets. I, Daniel James Howell, am gay.