Prologue:
When you were little, you always wanted to be something awesome, or fascinating, like an astronaut, or a rock star, maybe even a prince or princess.
Now that you're grown up, you say you want to be a lawyer, or get your degree and become a doctor, but the child in you, that stays hidden, secretly still wants to be a princess, or an astronaut.
Growing up, we've been taught what's right and what's wrong, and that only a woman and man should be in love.
Or that we should just live with what we are given, shut up and be grateful about it.
Sure, I'm grateful to be alive, to be me, but I'll always have aspirations and dreams.
Being gay, or bisexual, was unknown to us, we did not understand it.
We thought we had to have a boring office job in life, and money to pay the bills just to be happy.
Now as we are growing up, we rebel against those actions, or stick with them.
The most of us that rebel against it understand what it's like to love anyone you want, and not care what your parents think, because you know that they're wrong.
Even if others think it to be impossible, we still rebel against it, because we actually believe in something, we actually have hope.
I know because growing up with a single mother was hard, and she'd always complain how I should never get married, or have a girlfriend.
I should get a good job instead, and focus on my career.
Being little at the time I asked, "Can I have a boyfriend instead?"
She of course scoffed at the idea, a man being with another man? Pft, that was a thought that never crossed her or the people of her generation's mind!
She thought it to be absurd, which made me think for a while that being gay was wrong. Which, is not the case.
Love, in no way, is wrong.
My mother mostly just didn't want to face the humiliation of her only son being gay.
She barely could stand people seeing her with me in public, I couldn't imagine how she'd react if she ever found out the truth.
I am now currently 16, going on 17, and wish to be in a band someday, and yes, I am gay.
I am not ashamed of who I am, and never will be.
Sure, I don't have the most self-confidence, never have, but I have enough confidence to be me, and for now that is enough.
But, that confidence will get me into a lot of trouble..
Chapter 1:
It seemed like an average Thursday afternoon in Belleville, New Jersey.
I woke up to bright sunlight streaming through my window, but no smell of breakfast being made downstairs by my mother, which was unusual for her because she always made breakfast before she left for work. (I couldn't go to school, my Mom didn't have enough money to send me this year.)
I frowned and got out of bed, putting my slippers on before I headed downstairs.
The bottom of my slippers scuffed against the tile floor of the kitchen as I yawned and rubbed my eyes.
"Mornin' Mom." She stood against the counter, her face red and tears streaming down her cheeks.
I slowly took a step forward, my lower lip trembling, "..Mom?"
"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FAGGOT!"
Instantly I drew back, she turned around and her fierce eyes pierced into mine.
I had never heard my Mom say that word before, let alone call me it.
"You've been hiding this from me? How long do you think you could have hidden this from me?"
She chucked my phone at me, and realized she read my messages, ones that I had sent to my best friend, Alicia, because I was confused about who I was.
I confided in my best friend because I felt alone, and that I thought being gay was wrong.
"B-But Mom, there's nothing wrong with loving a guy if you're a guy.."
She growled, "NO, THERE ARE PLENTY OF THINGS WRONG WITH BEING GAY! IT'S A SIN! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW! I HATE YOU!"
She has said these things many times, I've grown to ignore her stubbornness and move on, but she never told me she hated me. Tears began to form in my eyes, and I ran up to my room and grabbed my book bag.
I quickly emptied it onto my bed and filled it with clothes, not caring what I packed. I grabbed a pen and notebook, a picture of me and Alicia, packed them away and slung my back pack over my shoulder.
I then quickly made my way and grabbed Pansy, my guitar, then I grabbed a stack of money out of my sock drawer and shoved it inside my pocket. That'll have to do for now..
"FRANK! GET THE FUCK OUT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FAGGOT ASS AROUND HERE ANYMORE!"
"Okay! Okay! I'm leaving!"
"Did you just raise your voice? AT ME?" She came running at me, pushed me onto the ground and began kicking me. In the side, the stomach, the head.. My vision blurred.
"Mom! Stop! Please!"
"Don't you dare call me that! You.. YOU COCK SUCKER!"
I kicked her in the stomach, quickly ducked around her and ran down the stairs. I heard her grunt, then run after me.
I swung open the front door and ran outside, my feet quickly sounding against the pavement of the driveway.
Her voice sounded behind me, "You'll regret the day you were ever born, faggot!"
I slowed to a stop a few minutes later, my breath uneven as I mumbled, "Too late for that."
My stomach rumbled, I felt empty, and my thoughts were distant, seeming very far away.
I wound up at my happy place, the park.
I'd always go here when I was younger, playing on the swings, in fact my mom would take me here almost every weekend, but growing up I'd just come and fiddle around with Pansy.
Picking at her strings, messing around with a few chords for the hell of it.
Now, I didn't feel that surge of joy I had always gotten when I came here, and that left me even more disappointed.
I sat down on a swing, setting my bag and guitar down beside me on the ground, then looked up to the sky.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Startled, I looked to my left and saw a boy, looking around my age, sitting beside me on a swing.
I couldn't look away, or even respond. It felt like I was dreaming, he was that beautiful.
He had dark, raven-like hair, wore all black and had the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen.
I didn't realize my mouth was hanging open until I snapped back into reality and then I quickly responded,"Yeah, I suppose."
He smirked, shaking his head and pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. "Want one?"
He held the pack out to me, I quickly shook my head.
"Hm, suit yourself." After taking one out and lighting it, he took a long drag from it and blew a puff of smoke in my direction.
I started coughing, choking over my own words as he laughed silently. "Pfftt, Hey! Ew!" I fanned the smoke away from my face.
Although he just blew smoke in my face, I thought it was sexy the way he smoked. He smoked as if it was a work of art.
I blushed at the thoughts I was having of this stranger. Hell I didn't even know him, let alone know if he was gay or not.
After a few more drags from his cancer stick, he threw it onto the ground and stepped on it. "Well, I have to go back home, mom's probably waiting up for me. I'll catch you later."
He stood up, winked at me, causing me to blush furiously, then began heading in the opposite direction from which I came from.
After he was no longer visible, I sat on the swing, looking up at the sky and wondering what the boy saw. What he thought was so beautiful.
The sun soon began to set, although it felt like the day just began, and I decided to go to bed early, and by bed I mean sleeping in the park.
I stood up, carried Pansy and my belongings over to a bench, then set them down and sprawled out across the seat.
I closed my eyes, thinking of the beautiful boy I had met not too long ago, and smiled for the first time that day.
There was something about him, I don't know what, but he had the type of charisma that made me want and hope that I would get the chance to speak to him again.
