Me and my big, fat mouth. Shouldn't have told people that I am gay.
Due to my "coming out of the closet", my own family and just about all the kids at my school hate my guts. They say that I am going to hell. Daddy is a preacher and my mom works as a Sunday school teacher at the church they have. The kids at school all act as if I have full blown AIDS every time I sniffle or cough (I have allergies and asthma really bad).
I used to have friends. Not anymore.
According to my family and the kids, I'm a loser. A nobody. And it doesn't help that I am big for my age.
Food is about the only thing that gives me comfort. I eat to help me feel better. If I don't eat, I think about the pain and torture that people have inflicted on me. It is all I can do to keep from wanting to kill myself.
Maybe suicide is the answer: I mean, life has gotta be much better than the shit I have put up with for the past four years! (I am 17 years old.)
I'm going to be a junior in high school in the fall. That is, if I live that long.
If the kids aren't calling me horrible names ("faggot", "plague boy", "spawn of the devil", "fatso", "loser", ad nauseum), they are always threatening to stuff me into a locker or dunk my head in a toilet.
They already give me wedgies or try to grab my privates.
They trip me and throw food and stuff at me: spit wads, dead bugs and worms, paper, pencils, pens, books, notebooks ... you name it: if they can get their hands on it, they'll fling the objects at me.
They love it when I cry. Gives them more ammunition.
I have been spit on, laughed at, pushed, shoved, booed, punched, hit, even puked on. A day at school without any teasing seems like only a far, distant dream.
I may be gay, but let me make two things clear: I do NOT have AIDS. And I have feelings. If they can't deal with it, they can just kiss my ass!!
~To be continued.~