Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2001 21:34:33 +0000 (GMT) From: ozy Subject: being gay/chapter four Being Gay Disclaimer and Warning: The following story contains content of a homosexual nature. It is not intended for those under the legal age. If you are offended by homosexual acts, or it is illegal in your area to view such material, then stop reading and leave! I'm not sure how old u have to be to be over the legal age. I'm 17 so don't let it bother u too much. Note: This story is the property of the writer any copying in part or in whole of this document is prohibited, and will result in termination of a life force. BTW This story is based on real life events. It's true except for the little details and time structure. Emails can be sent to: soul_catcher2000@yahoo.co.uk I lifted my eyes to meet my father's intense gaze. The fear returned, I was a child again, insecure and vulnerable. I looked down, too afraid to meet the look of hatred and anger in my dad's eyes. I could feel the words forming in my head, the natural instinct to throw myself at his mercy and beg for forgiveness, after all he was in control. But then something inside me snapped, and I became the rebellious teenager I used to be. I hadn't done anything wrong, I wasn't gonna be afraid and I sure as hell wasn't gonna be controlled. I raised my head and met my dad's intense gaze, I stared him in the eye and felt no fear, only anger. My breathing became deep and heavy and I could feel the blood pulsating in my head. An eternity passed and still not one of us made a move or spoke. We continued to stare each other out, daring each other to make the first move. And then suddenly I felt afraid again, the anger subsided as I realised what my dad might do, I tried not to care and tried to be angry, but it didn't work. I slowly began to sink into despair again and could feel my dad pick up on it. And then, the doorbell rang. My father looked away for a second and I suddenly felt a moment of freedom, I turned and walked calmly down the stairs. I walked to the front door and opened it. My sister stood there, eyeing me before speaking. "Hi dork." She walked past me dropping her bag and calling out to my mum. "Muuum! Where r u? I'm home. Muuum!" I turned and sighed. "Mum's gone out, I have no idea where. Dads upstairs though. I'm going out for a while, see you later" "Hold on, anything else happened?" Before I had a chance to reply my dad called to my sister and I could hear him descending the stairs. "Hey sweetie. Come here honey." My dad embraced my sister and kissed her on the cheek, my sister responded in a stereotyped response, kissing him on the cheek. "Hi, daddy. Where's mum?" I looked at them with disgust, how could they act so affectionately towards each other when it was so obvious they hated each other? I turned and headed out. "Where are you going?" My dad asked. I turned and looked at him, I felt afraid. "I'm going to mosque." My dad was a strict believer in religion and had taken up Islam when he was very young. We had it imposed upon us and I guess it was why I hated my father so much. It was unheard of to question religion, you had to simply accept and believe. I accepted that I had to simply give the impression I was a Muslim but I didn't accept that I had to believe. My dad looked at his watch. "I want you back here as soon as prayers end" his face showed no emotion, he seemed detached from his emotions. And that was worse, if he was angry he'd get over it, but if he'd become detached, it was like being cut off from our relationship. I realised that even though I hated him, I still needed that relationship. My dad turned and walked into the living room with my sister. I swore at him under my breath, I hated this. I could never stand up to him, everytime after an argument I reflected back and realised all the things I wanted to say but was too afraid. Next time I'm gonna say all these things, I laughed too myself. Yeah right, next time would be exactly the same and I knew it. I'd never be able to stand up to my father. Getting out of here and getting to university was the only thing I looked forward to. All of us wanted out of each other's lives, yet my family all seemed to want to create the image of a perfect family - no problems and definitely no faggot freaks. We were far from being a perfect family but as long as we all acted like it, then it was ok. I realised how much I hated all of them for acting like this. Being part of a family with problems was a lot better than being part of an act. I headed out of the door. The mosque was so peaceful, so quiet. I didn't really believe in god, but felt it relaxing to pray. After prayers I looked around, and sighed. Half of the people here wouldn't be able to justify their presence in mosque yet they felt it sacred to attend all prayers. Sheep, they did whatever they were taught or told, but who was I to judge? I got up and left the mosque. Walking up the steps outside the mosque I noticed a car, a blue Toyota. I knew that car from somewhere. And then it hit me; it was Ryan's car. I turned around and took the other route around, I glanced behind me and saw Ryan's face through the car window, his eyes seemed red and puffy and he looked like he hadn't slept in a while. I felt the tears well up in my own eyes. "My baby" I whispered, and then caught myself. He wasn't mine, he hated me and I hated him. But I loved him, despite what he'd said or done, I loved him still. I hated myself for loving him. The tears began to drop. "Ozy?" I realised I was crying and in public. I swallowed and wiped at my eyes. I was letting it get to me again. I felt an arm go around my shoulder. "Oh sweetie, what's wrong?" It was Sarah, I tried to hold the tears back, I tried to put on a brave face, but I just wanted this all to end. I sagged into Sarah's arms and begun to sob uncontrollably. "Shhh... Sweetie, it's ok. Everything's ok. Come on now, let's get out of here." Sarah led me to her car and helped me into the passenger seat. I wiped at my eyes and stopped crying, Sarah climbed into the driver seat. She opened the glove compartment and took out a box of tissues. "Here you go" She passed me the tissues, and I blew my nose. Neither of us spoke, Sarah squeezed my hand gently. "What's wrong? Please tell me." I looked at her and I saw the warmth in her eyes, I realised how much I loved her. She was the only person I felt I could trust. "Sarah, I'm gay" She smiled at me. "Um. I'm guessing you mean homosexual because you don't seem too happy" I smiled, I felt so relieved to have told her. I knew she wouldn't have freaked out, but I was glad she knew now. She pulled me to her and hugged me briefly. "Is that really why you're upset? Or is it Ryan?" "Yeah, it is. But I'm umm... I'm in love with him. I wanted to tell him that night, but he walked out on me. I just didn't think he would, and now he hates me." I sniffed and Sarah squeezed my hand again. "No its ok, I'm sure Ryan had a reason and he doesn't hate you, I guess you don't wanna hear that right now, so I'm not gonna try and convince you. But whatever you feel is ok, don't let other people tell you its not. I kinda guessed there was something up, but didn't wanna push you into talking to me. If there is anything you wanna talk about that you feel like you can't talk to you're parents about, then you know that you can talk to me. I'm not that good at talking to kids, so I will understand if you don't wanna talk to me" She let go of my hand, and looked out of the window. I turned to look at her. She looked so vulnerable, so frail and dejected. I locked fingers with hers. "You're great with kids, seriously. You had a bad experience with some misled kids. But there's nobody I'd rather talk to. I just feel bad unloading my problems onto you when you have so many problems of your own." Sarah turned to face me. "I love you, you know that? You've always been my favourite kid, your brother is a good guy and your sister has her moments, but you've always been the sweet one. And now you're all grown up and you're getting hurt and going through all these problems and you won't let anyone help you. It hurts, having to watch you hurt like this, all by yourself." I looked at Sarah, it seemed like I was looking at her for the first time. She looked back at me with her warm smile and compassionate eyes. She hugged me and I hugged back, I could feel the tears starting again. "I love you too Sarah, I promise I'll talk to you about stuff, but you have to promise me something also." Sarah pulled back gently. "And what would that be?" "Promise me that you'll tell me about you're problems, as well" Sarah smiled. "Ok then, you have a deal, but my problems are just silly little things." I hugged her again. "I don't care, I wanna hear about them, I love ya." The tears started rolling down my face and we just held each other. After a while, I pulled back embarrassed at crying. Sarah laughed at me and I smiled in return. "Lets get you home, and you better stop those tears before you drown us both!" I smiled, I couldn't remember a day where I had cried so much. "I don't think I can cry anymore, I've done more than enough of it. I wanna go home." Sarah started the car and pulled out of the car park. I laid my head on the rest and watched the silver rain drops slide down the window. We arrived home I climed out of the car and approached the front door. I turned and waved to Sarah. I wished she was coming with me but she had to visit her mother. Sarah waved back and with that she was gone. I turned to face the door and placed my key in the lock, I opened the door and stepped in. The door to the study opened and my dad stepped out. "In here, now." He turned and walked into the room. I sighed. "Here we go again," I said under my breath. Only this time it was gonna be a lot harder to convince my father. But somehow I knew he was gonna reject all the evidence that pointed to my being gay, no matter how strong it was. I mean even if he caught me having sex with a guy on the kitchen table, he'd dismiss it as an experience or phase that I was going through. He'd punish me, but he wouldn't accept that I was gay. He'd rather kill me than that. I walked through the door and saw my sister seated on the leather sofa. I looked away and said nothing. I looked at my father who had the brown bag on the table. "I asked you to come straight home, you're more than 20 minutes late." "Sorry, I was talking to Sarah, I didn't notice the time." I looked up at my dad and he said nothing. He turned to my sister. "Give us a second sweetie, I need to talk to him alone." My sister got up slowly, turned to look at me and left without a word. My dad turned all of his attention to me again. "What's this?" He lifted up the bag and emptied all of the stories and floppy disks onto the table. I stared at my dad but didn't say a word. What was there to say? "Well?" I looked down, and still said nothing. "I'll tell you what this is, this is the work of the devil. This is for those people who are gonna burn in hell. Are you one of those people?" He stared at me intensely. I had to say something, but I couldn't. "If you get involved with these things, you will end up with those people. They are cursed, god hates them. You know the Aids virus? Its created for those devil-people, they are human trash and will be destroyed by god. Now are you one of those people?" I stared blankly at my dad, I felt sorry for him. So pathetic, how little he understood. But I realised that I couldn't argue with him. So I did what was best. "No dad, I'm not. The stuffs from before, I don't know what was wrong with me then." "God has said to us in the Koran that these people will be killed, you are my blood and it is my duty to educate you." I really could have laughed then, educate me? That's a good one. But I knew when to argue and when to lie. The only two options I had in almost all of my conversations with my dad were to argue my point or to lie and accept his. I chose to lie 90% of the time. "I know dad, I'm sorry, I should have got rid of it all. I don't believe in any of that stuff. It's all from before." My dad paused and pondered that for a second. "You were going through an experience, a phase." He seemed to be talking to himself more than talking to me. Convincing himself. I relaxed and laid back on the sofa. "I'll get rid of the stuff, I'm through that phase. I should have done it long ago. I'm sorry." My dad looked at me and then nodded, satisfied. "It is the poison of the soul. I'm glad you understand. You're a big boy now, you'll come across a lot of people who'll try and tempt you into these things. You have to be careful." "I know dad, I will." "Ok, then, I'm glad we cleared this up" He got up and kissed me on the forehead. "Go eat, and get some sleep." He turned and left. I sat there for a minute and laughed quietly to myself. He was so pathetic. I sighed, oh well, at least I didn't get any punishment. I collected all the stuff off the table and placed all of it into the bag. I picked up and headed out back. Oustside it was incredibly cold, a single street lamp flickered repeatedly, casting dancing shadows on the concrete floor. I somehow remembered this "scene" from somewhere. I shivered, it had become so chilly. I lifted the the lid of the trash can, I looked down into it and hesitated for a second, I had to be more careful now; I got away with it this time, but I didn't know how many more times I would. I threw the bag into the trash can, pausing for a second before slamming the lid back on.