This was the moment; the carcinogen smog that slowly destroyed my lungs, the bass synchronized with my pulse, the screams of the crowd following every dictation of my voice. It is here that I am free from judgment, internal or external. My brothers have often seen me as the fairy, the queer or what ever you want to call it. My angst couldn't be held inside me, as if it was some tangle repressed ideal. I never bounced back as a stoic man like my brothers, and I guess that's why I left when I turned eighteen. The self hate of being incapable to become who my brothers were just killed me inside. I knew they loved, but I knew I'll never be like they are. I always felt as if I transnished the Mercer reputation. I guess that's why I haven't seen them in over three years…
"Jackie. Snap out of it."
There I was standing in the middle of the stage; an eerie sort of calm came before the crowd. I zoned out of the end of the performance, and instead of taking our fucking bow and getting off the stage, I left them standing there as if I could offer that one last word that it would make it all better. They were staring at me as if I could guide them to an epiphany. I couldn't, I never would. I began to take huge gulps of yellow air that now burn the inside of me. I felt the silence beat down upon, the crowd began to stir, mirroring what I was internal creating. They, perfect strangers were beginning to see how I was unable to be what they wanted me to be. I'm such a fuck-up. Slowly their faces morphed into those I've left behind. The guilt loomed above me, choking me of that pernicious air. I couldn't breath anymore, so I did what I've done my entry life. I ran.