Before you start reading, I have something to say. This story was written not for Glee, neither was it meant for fictionpress. It's actually a tribute to all the gays out there like Kurt, Blaine, Dave and even Alex from The Glee Project. Well, after watching Glee for two seasons now, I found the message of accepting people for who they are really significant, and as a tribute to the people out there who feel just like the Glee club sometimes (specifically the gays), outcast, bullied, ostracized, you name it, my story's going to be different. It's not going to be about Finchel, Brittana, Pizes or how Quinn should be with Finn because Rachel's annoying. It's going to be about you. This is dedicated to everyone out there who has been an outcast at some point of their life.

Love,

Sharmaine

Windows

The only person I knew was Mama. Before this, I never knew what a "friend" was. Mama prevented me from interacting with friends, a world full of limitless possibilities, something the miserable and enclosed dark world I lived in hid. When I was younger, I used to think that Mama and I were the only two people that existed. Then I started to wonder about the phenomenon of having babies. Where was Mama's other half? In other words, where the other people?

Mama told me something when I was younger, something important. That would be, "Mama darkens the windows because the people outside are evil." Of course, I had to follow her instructions like any other obedient child would, because then, she would give me candy, and I loved candy. Because of that, the windows in my house were just like any other whitewashed walls to me, boring and functionless. I never really knew what the windows were for, and I never bothered to find out.

Then when I was growing and merrily going through my seemingly happy life, I chanced upon a letter, a letter to a lady named Patty. That was when I realised Mama and I were not the only ones on this earth. No wonder the food in the big white box never seemed to deplete, someone was topping them up. Not only that, I found out the reason to all of Mama's cruel secrecy.

Mama did not like me to play with dolls. Mama did not like me to play dress up. She wanted me to play with toy soldiers and machine guns, like "a real boy". This made me wonder what a real boy was. You mean, I was not real? Real boys play with soldiers?

Then I went back to the letter which she carelessly left exposed in a little corner of her study. It said I was "gay" and it was "good to hide" me from the world because of people who would mercilessly judge me for my sexual orientation. Whatever that was.

I was most definitely not upset.

I tried my best to be diplomatic about handling the news. The only thing getting in the way was my growing curiosity for the outside world that Mama tried to hide from me. I approached the blackened windows for the first time, dragged a wobbly wooden chair over, got on and ripped off the disgusting dark canvas covering the portal to my new discovery. As I ripped shreds of the thick canvas off, a warm and bright light entered the house. The furniture bathed happily in the light, as if delighted and thankful for my exciting discovery.

Then I saw children, children like me. I saw their joy and laughter and I found out what was missing all my life. Windows.