Gay concentration camp

Chapter 2

chapter 2

But pretty soon it wasn't just the loss of the colorful rainbows. The things that went up in their place really disturbed me. Well, it didn't really disturb me at that time but looking back on it now, it should have. The posters with rainbow stripes soon turned into posters with black, grey, and white stripes. Almost as if there were no more color at all in our city. Police had construction workers paint the outside of all the buildings in the town.

I'm sure this might be confusing as to why the police got to do that, but in Illinois we got rid of our mayor and let the church run our legal system. It was supposed to decrease free spirit and enforce the law. But it wasn't just Illinois I mean, most of the United States had done that.

But anyways, our entire city that used to be bright with buildings and colorful street art was then painted over with grey. I couldn't believe that my once beautiful city had turned into the dark and dreary place. But other than that nothing changed.

People were still nice, the stores all sold the same merchandise.

Then all of a sudden the city had the construction workers building a giant fire pit in the center of the town. I didn't know what it was for at the time and it is still a little strange as to why they did this. The timing made no sense at all. Because they left the giant fire pit there for almost a week. But in that week the police system decided on another change. We got four gallons of two shades of grey paint. That gave us eight gallons total. We were told to paint the inside of our house and to make sure it looked nice. My mother and I both shared a rebellious side so naturally we left our bright green and white walls up

But soon an officer came knocking hard on our door. I stared at my mother and her eyes widened. She opened the door and invited him in anyway. The officer took a look around and wrote something down in a black notebook. No one spoke, all he did was walk around looking at every room in our house. When he was done he turned to us and nodded, before walking out the door. Nothing more, nothing less. It terrified me to see how serious they looked.

To say my mother was worried was a huge understatement. She stayed up that night pacing our kitchen muttering softly under her breath. I'm sure that she thought I was sound asleep but who can sleep while knowing your loved one is that worried. I remember whimpering and her coming into my room and holding me close. She rocked me in her arms until I was sound asleep.

That seemed to be the last peaceful day in our big busy city. The next day the pastor came knocking on our door again. My mother told me to stay in my room with the door locked. The pounding on the door got louder and the police started to shout now. "OPEN THE DOOR." I ran quickly to my room and stood on my tip toes to lock the door. Of course that didn't stop me from pressing my ear to the door. Then I heard the muffled voices of the officer telling my mother to bring all the colorful clothes in the house to them and put it in the basket, which I assumed they brought with them. It turns out I was right. My mother came and knocked on my door telling me to open up for her. She walked in and apologized quickly before taking all my clothes out of my room. I followed her out and picked up all the pieces that she dropped. The pastor at the door were waiting impatiently with two large laundry baskets, one already filled with what I recognized as my mother's clothes. We dumped my clothes into the basket. The pastor didn't even nod his head this time, he just picked up the baskets and left us there confused.

We weren't in the dark for too long though, the offiver came back in an hour and told us to go outside to the town square. Because it was just my mother and I, and because of our small town we didn't have a car. So we started the five minute walk to the square. Before we got there we were hit with the smell of burning fabric. My mother looked around quickly and started to pull me to the square faster. When we got there we had no time to think before me and my mother were separated. The police men ushered my mother into a line on the other side of the square whereas I was stuck in another line filled with children ranging from five to seventeen years old.

I waited and waited in that line for hours before I finally reached the front. An officer sat there staring at me intensely looking as though he was waiting for me to do something. When all I did was stand there, he sighed and harshly told me to undress. I remember looking around for my mother or a bathroom. The man got angry then, stood up, and forced my clothes off. I was scared, I didn't know what was about to happen. Luckily all he did was sit back down and gave me three sets of grey pants shirts and underwear. I also got four pairs of grey socks and one pair of white shoes. He told me to put one on, which I did. Then I was told to wait in the next line, where my mother was waiting, wearing the same thing as me. We waited in that line almost all day before we got to the front. I got to go first, and an officer had me sit in a barber's chair. But he didn't put a smock around me and all he did was cut my shoulder length black hair into a buzz cut. He pushed me out of the chair, ignoring me whining about the hair that got into my shirt. I waited on the sidewalk and waited until my mother got her hair cut to her chin, just like all the other girls who already got their hair cut. When she got out of line and made her way over to me I opened my mouth to ask her about what was happening, but before I could talk she shushed me.

When we got home and we walked into our house we realized that the interior had been painted a light shade of grey. My mother sighed and told me to head to sleep. Naturally the day couldn't just end there, the preachers started to bang on our door once more. As my mother answered the door, I peeked out from between her legs. The preachers looked down at me and then back at my mother. "This section of the town is being separated from the rest of the city for suspicions it is holding faggots." I looked up at him. Being young and naïve I asked him what being a faggot was. He stared down at me very hard and whispered "a very bad person". My mother pushed me out of the way and told me again to go to sleep.

The next morning when I woke up I went to go to school only to be stopped at the door by my mother. "You can't go to school anymore baby." She said with tears in her eyes. I was ten at the time so of course I was happy I didn't need to go to school. I never had too many friends either so I didn't have anything to miss. As I went to go play with my toys my mother smiled and stopped me. "I said you couldn't go to school mister but I'm still going to teach you!" and she did. Every day was a new lesson and I learned a lot more than I ever did at school.

But of course life wasn't all that happy in the separated part of the city. Because of the 'bad people' in our area the church shut off our water supply. We also didn't have a store in this area so we had no way of getting food. Luckily for my mother and me we had a stockpile of cereal, granola bars, and water. But people were always sick and a lot of people died outside. My mother started to refuse letting me outside because it got so bad. Also because we didn't have any water coming in, people used the toilet out in the open. Mommy and I had a backyard where we dug holes to do our business and then covered it back up. But our area started to smell really bad and looked gross. But we lived that way for half a year. So many people were dead it scared me to look outside.

AN:

Im so so so so so so sorry! i am going to finish this book up very soon im so sorry it took so long i forgot my password to my email! I really hope you guys like this chapter. If the title isnt working im so sorry for some reason it wont show the actual title?