16.2

265 7 1
                                    


TW: Homophobia. Bullying. Slurs. Violence

***



I didn't talk to anyone again when we got down to the audience to watch the other bands perform. I slipped out when they were thinking of joining the crowd. I said I'll just be in the CR but I didn't even go there.


I left with just a simple tap on Shi's shoulder. I think he got it because he still nodded at me while his eyes were fixated on the band up the stage. Then, with nothing but my small backpack and my violin, I was off. I didn't bring Saint's guitar with me. I don't even know what Mom will do to that guitar. It's not mine to lose so I better just leave it to them.


I look like a kid in a suit who just came home from school. Well, that's how it should be. That's what Mom wants it to be. I shouldn't be doing anything else like that band that she thinks made me gay.


Yes, this is what Mom wants.


Walking out of the school and onto the sidewalk to meet the car I booked at the corner of the street, I felt a presence of a person behind me. When I thought it was Saint who came after me, I turned to look. Why did I even think it would be him?


My eyes still hadn't landed on what I wanted to see when I felt a sudden pressure on my back. In a series of motion, I found myself on the ground, on my side, looking up at David and the three stooges behind him looking down at me.


"Sissy, did you enjoy playing in that band with your boyfriends?" he grinned before booting my face down on the ground.


Yep. Again. This is it.


No matter how much I turn a blind eye to this matter, it's still the same. What I'm feeling is wrong, therefore I can't feel bad at Saint for doing what is actually right. And that is to be with Kath. Liking a girl.


I really hate myself.


I wonder what my life would be like if I weren't gay.


As a guess: it would be better in every aspect. Friendships would stay strong after finding out what my sexuality is and my crush. School life would be more fun without anyone picking on me. Mom would be prouder with me and would stop using me as a reason to drink.


I never really wanted to be a girl. But if being a girl is what would make my feelings valid and right, I kinda wanna be one. If being a girl would stop David from punching and kicking me, I'll gladly be one.


I like Saint to this point already. I like him so much it's disgusting.


Tony and Moises had already pulled me to a discreet alleyway where no one would see how Brendan kicked me like a soccer ball and how David pulled me by my collar, punching my face.


"Saint..." the name escaped my face as I looked up at the sky with the silhouette of that skinny alleyway.

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