I pushed him away, overwhelmed with unreasonable anger, grief and hatred. I turned away, so I could not see my grandfather's murderer in his face, and looked out of the window. There were two blackbirds on the grass, pecking into the soil in rhythm with one another. This harmony was interrupted by a pigeon, speckled purple and blue. It squawked at them, causing the two to fly away together, so it could have all the garden to itself. I was empathetic, for some obscure reason I felt attached to those two little blackbirds, who were both a sleek black, compared to the female brown colour. This meant they were both male. They were both threatened by the bigger, 'more important' bird. Like us. We were threatened by the 'normal' people. The 'pure' people. I turned back, wrapping Phil up in my arms, whispering "I am sorry. You...you just look so much like him." "I know." He whispered back. "I hate it. He sticks to me. I just want to rid of him, the memories, my past, but I can't. I am him. He is me." "No. No! You... you're not him." "You don't know me, I'm sorry, you don't know me at all." "I have time. You have time. Introduce me." I made him grin a little, and he went to the lounge and sat on my sofa. "Make yourself at home!" I joked, but he did not react. "I can't tell you anything else, I can't bring myself to say anything else. I don't want you to share my memories, my pain, I want you to know me. The real me." He smiled softly at me, I returned this smile, and he continued "I have waited for someone to treat me as their equal, treat me like a real human. To get to know me as a person, not an object. Not a lowlife. I want them to know me. Just me. Forget everything they have ever been told, their opinions, their laws. Just... me." "I know. I know." We sat in silence, he made no effort to speak, and neither did I. The clock ticked in the background, it must have ticked hundreds of times. Trying to break this void, I turned on the television, the remote was by my hand and I could think of nothing else. The first channel was a documentary labelled "Homosexuality through the ages". It contained images and words I do not want to repeat. The second was "Homo on the run". It was a spin off game show, which also contained horrific images. Flicking through the channels, they were all filled with gruesome programs. The last was a news report, I left it on as was just showing a clip of the waves at Devon. Then the voice-over rolled in. "This is where James Lester and his wife Celia love to enjoy their summer breaks. Free from the responsibilities and drama of his challenging job, as Head Protector of Surrey, he can claim back his lost time to be with his loved ones. Unfortunately, due to a trail of unfortunate events, his son Philip, was not able to join in on their holiday this year. Mr Lester refuses to give any more information.." "Turn it off. TURN IT OFF." Phil screamed, though we were both frozen. Eventually the report ended, leaving us silent whilst the adverts played. "I.. I'm so so sorry." I whispered, looking at the pain in his deep blue eyes and the anger controlling his body. He was shaking, so much so I could imagine heat radiating from him. Like a dragon. But a very cute dragon, at that. He still did not move. I brought my hand to his cheek, which was cold, whilst his forehead was raging. "Phil?" I asked "Phil, are you ok?" No reply. Standing up, I gently lowered him across the sofa, pushing his feet up onto the seat I had been sitting in. He blinked, his eyes began to stream with tears, and he bundled himself into a small ball; his legs to his chest, knees to his chin, and his hands gripping his calfs. "I.. I'm sorry." My voice was weak, I did not know what else to do. What else could I do?