Only God Knows

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Naruto. That is all. So shut the hell up and get over it.

Summary: Naruto is forced into a camp for "troubled" youth. But will a certain raven lead him further from the path?

Well, hello fellow readers. It's me again. I know that I keep changing my username and it is probably getting tiring, but I am going to keep this name for a very long time for personal reasons (if you can figure out why, then I'll dedicate a chapter to you. Well, I have been busy with school and life. So I'm sorry. I will try and finish up all of my other stories, just give me time.

"Am I the only one in church today feelin' so small?
Cause when I take a look around
Everybody seems so strong
I know they'll soon discover
That I don't belong"

Stained Glass Masquerade

Ch1

I knew that I was going to have to do this. But how could I tell my Christian-loving family that I could only see myself in love with another man? How can I bring them that kind of pain into their lives?

I knew that it was wrong. I didn't have to be told twice. I knew that I was going to burn in the fiery inferno. It didn't matter if I accepted Christ. I was going to hell because of what was inside my heart.

I knew that I was always different from the other body. I just didn't have a name for it. I wanted a name for what was wrong with me. I wanted to find out just how different I really was. And when I discovered it in the boys' locker room in Jr. High, I was pissed. I, Naruto Namikaze Uzumaki, was gay.

I kept swearing up and down that it was impossible. After all, I was a loyal and faithful church boy. I was the son of the pastor and church choir director. I was basically raised on the Christ-Love and Jesus Songs. For God's sake, my parents have videos of my older brother and me saying our prayers and singing the C-H-I-R-S-T-I-A-N Song. How could I possibly be into guys!?

During this phase, I was trying to get into girls pants. But every time I came close, I backed down. I don't know if it was because I was disgusted by them or if I was revolted in myself.

Only my brother caught on with my homosexuality. My parents only prayed that I kept it in my pants and keep the devil from tempting me with the "Lady Lips". If only they knew what was really tempting me.

He told me he was ok with me being gay. And for the first time in months, I was finally ok with myself. The months of feeling unworthy and horrible began to slip away because of my brother. Because of him, I was able to accept my own orientation for the first time. I felt like my spiritual battle was waning. I felt at peace. And I loved it.

But my brother warned me not to spill the beans with our dad. Mom was more likely to be more understanding, seeing as how she has been in music for almost all of her life. Everybody knows finding a true straight person in Fine Arts was like finding a grain of sand in a pile of rice.

Dad, he preached about the evils of homosexuality. How it was deadly plague in the world. Many times, I would sit uncomfortably as I listened to my father's often powerful sermons against my type. I secretly hated listening to him speaking with such hate.

Many people of the church expect me to follow my father's footsteps. In the beginning, I wanted to. I can remember being only five years old and talking to the church about how great God was. I know that I look exactly like my father. We have the same crazy blonde hair. The same tanned skin. The same cobalt eyes. I think the reason people expect me to work at the church is because I look like an exact copy of my dad.

My brother, however, looks almost like our mom. The same red hair, pale skin. The only thing that my brother had from our dad was his blue eyes.

Well, here I was in my room. I was debating the fact of telling them. I was tired of living two lives; one as straight Naruto who was a god-fearing homophobe, the other as a Christian homosexual fearing the rejection of not only his family, but his fellow gay man. I wanted to blend those two people badly. I wanted to be Naruto Namikaze-Uzumaki, a god-fearing gay guy.

That was it. I would tell my parents. They needed to know the truth. At least, they would know the truth. I only prayed they would accept me.

Slowly, I walked out of my room. I knew that my parents were downstairs finishing up the church plans for tomorrow. My fate was just a stair-climb away. I was terrified. I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my throat. I wanted to run away. But I knew that running wasn't the answer.

So I acted like a man and walked down the stairs. Each step closer to the first floor meant me being closer to revealing my secret to my family.

What seemed like an eternity, I touched the first floor. It wasn't so hard. But the harder thing was coming up. Walking to the living room.

I took my steps carefully. Forcing myself into distractions, I looked at the pictures on the wall.

One caught my eye. It was a picture of my mom and dad from college. My mom had on a blue shirt with some name of a band. Her tresses streamed to her chin. Her eyes shimmered as she embraced her future husband.

My dad's hair was just as crazy as mine. It reminded me of being fourteen and people finally starting to ask if that was me or my old man. I would end up telling them that my dad didn't have whisker-like cheek-marks. But other than my marks, we looked almost identical.

My parents had a story with this picture. It was taken on the day my dad proposed to the most beautiful music major in the school.

But I knew I had to stop with these distractions. I had to face my parents now. It was time.

So I walked to my parents in the living room. Both were looking over their things. My dad with his notebook and bible, my mom on the piano with her church music.

My dad glanced at me casually. It was now or never.

"Mom, dad." I started.

Both were looking up at me casually. I was terrified. I felt like I was going to throw up. I could tell my parents were curious as to why I would want to talk to them. But I needed to put on a calmer demeanor.

"Sweet-heart, are you alright?" asked my mother.

I wanted to speak. But my body wouldn't let me. I wanted to say that I was gay. That I wanted to be with guys. I wanted to kiss boys. I wanted to tell them that I kissed a girl and I didn't like it.

"I have to tell you something." I managed to muster out of me.

"What is it?" my dad asked.

I didn't know what happened next. I just remember standing one minute and the next, I was on the floor with my hands covering my face.

I could see the fire in my father's eyes. So much anger, almost inhuman. I remember the fire in his eyes during his passionate sermons. But this fire was completely different from those preachy speeches in church. These eyes wanted me dead. Those eyes had so much hate. There was no passion of repent. Just hate and wishing me dead.

I knew my mom was screaming. I just couldn't hear it. All my ears allowed me to catch were the sounds of my father's fists pounding on my flesh.

Suddenly, I heard the shrill of my mom. I looked up. Just a millimeter to see my mom standing in front of me. She was taking my beatings while my father attempted to miss her and hit me.

"STOP!" she shrilled.

And with that. My father paused. He had vacant eyes. I didn't understand what was going on. I was just horrified of the situation.

"Naruto, go to your room."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I bolted to my room just in case he decided to use me as a homo-punching-bag.

As soon as I got into my room, I slammed the door shut and jumped on my bed. My heartfelt even worse than before. My father hated my guts.

My body felt sore from the beating. But I didn't want to see the damage.

I already knew that there was more damage than my body. My father was yelling profanities about me. My mother trying to calm him.

"That boy's not right!" I could hear him yell.

"He's out son!"

"That boy's a fag!"

"He needs our acceptance, not our curse." My mother sobbed out.

"That boy needs a good beating." My father paused before continuing. "No son of mine is going to be some anti-Christ queer."

I didn't know what was being said next. Their voices died down. As far as I knew, my dad was telling my mom that he was going to kick me out and she could do nothing about it. This was just great. I was going to be some homeless gay guy that would get gang-raped in a card-board box. I was terrified. Maybe, I could just pull a fast one and un-come out. Yeah, just tell them that I was only joking. I'll get grounded for a year for the "prank". Better that than getting rapped in a garbage can.

Without any warning, my door opened. My father looked at me hard. I didn't want to see his eyes. But they were like a revolting ghastly car accident, you just can't turn away. And when you're done witnessing the disaster, you wish that it was erased from your brain.

"Pack your things."

I looked at him as if he were mad. He was really kicking me out! All because I was gay! It didn't matter if I was his son. All he saw in me was a gay kid and he didn't like it.

"You're going to a place to cure you, tomorrow." He went on.

Now, I couldn't believe this. I was going to some place to get "cured". I wasn't sick! It's not like somebody sneezed on me and I caught "gay". Just how crazy was my father? I wasn't sick. I don't need a cure. I need him to understand me. But I couldn't say anything. I was just too flabbergasted at what was going on. I couldn't hear what he muttered, but I think it was something about cleaning my bloody nose.

As soon as he closed the door, I looked up into the blackness of the heavens.

"God, I know you're out there. I don't know what's going on, but protect me from evil.

"Amen."

TBC

Well, that is the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. I have been wanting to write this story for years. So finally I got started. My cousin is my Bata-reader and I want to thank her for helping me with ideas on this. If it wasn't for her, I probably would have never even bothered writing this.

Oh and Bike, for writing What Would Jesus Do? (WWJD), your story helped me with some ideas.

For anybody who has read their story, I want to assure you that this is going to be something completely different. I have been wanting to write a story where there was a homosexual character who is a strong Christian because I know that they do exist. This story is dealing with a child who has strong faith in God, but must deal with the betrayal of loved ones and even is forced to re-question his own fait; witnessing others in his position that had lost their faith long ago.

Because of the situations of the plot, there will be some strong themes in the story. Do remember that these are the "accounts" of young people who feel like they have to deal with the discrimination of their sexual orientation. Anybody who feels that they have been discriminated against would have ill-feelings towards their discriminator.

Alitza Out

~`__'~