Tyler

“Janine, will you please excuse us?” my father said in the calmest voice he could manage.

My mother gave me a sympathizing look before leaving the room. I was still surprised, but I could feel the strings of regret. If we hadn’t been on that couch, if I had just gotten some mac n’ cheese instead of sitting on his lap, none of this wouldn’t have happened.

But it did happen. Depression crashed over me in that second and I started crying right in front of my father.

“Oh, please. Stop crying, you fag,” he spat at me. For some reason, that made me start hysterically laughing. My father; the one who I was supposed to trust, the one who was supposed to love me unconditionally, was calling me a fag.

“You are a disgrace to this family! Give me your phone. Now!”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure you never call that boy again,”

“But that’s not fair!”

“Yes it is. You will never see him again, am I understood?”

“You can’t do that to me! He is my everything!”

“Yes I can, and I will. Boohoo, you lost your boyfriend of two weeks,” he mocked. I stayed quiet for a long time after that.

“Six months,” I said.

“What?” I could tell he was confused.

“We were together for six months,” I sniffled. “I love him,” I said.

“Do not say that! It is a sin, Tyler! One man shalt not lie with another man!” my father hissed at me.

“I don’t care!” I yelled, outraged. I started crying again, pulling at my hair. “I love him. I love him more than all the stars in the sky, and beyond that! Now, I’m sorry I’m not the perfect son, dad. But I’m gay. And you just have to deal with it. It’s not your life, it’s mine.”

“You are a sin, a disgrace! Don’t worry, Tyler, we’ll fix you.” he said.

I widened my eyes in shock and fear. A camp. A gay camp. When the shock wore off, I got angry.

“I don’t need to be fixed!” I yelled. “I’m not broken! Do you think I chose to be like this?! I can’t help it! I didn’t choose this, but this is the happiest I’ve been for a long time! Everyone left me! Ana wasn’t there. Chris made me happy again! I was actually happy! You can’t take him away from me, you just can’t! I need him, Or I’ll…”

My voice faded away after that. I knew what I was going to say. I need him, or I’ll go back to cutting. I couldn’t say that to my dad, though. That was also a sin in his book.

“Just go to your room. We’ll discuss this later,” he said, waving me off.

So, with a tear- streaked face, I ran up the stairs. Not to stay in my room, but to get my coat. I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked calmly back down the stairs with the tears still on my face, and my father looked at me. I wasn’t crying anymore. But I did feel horrible. I didn’t even take a glance at him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“Out.” I replied, banging the door behind me.

I walked numbly along the sidewalk. I knew he wouldn’t follow me. I knew my destination; the park. Up the hill, to the tree with all my razors hidden in the ground. There were none at my house that I could use without anyone noticing.

When I got to the tree, I broke down crying. I hated myself. For letting us get caught, for my father calling me a disgrace. I was starting to believe every word he said, and they were carved into my brain. I hated myself just because I was me.

I dug into the ground, and got out the bag. I took one off the top of the stack, and slid my jacket arms up so they were out of the way. I slashed: one, two, three, four, five times on one arm.

And on the other, carved in the word “disgrace”, because that’s what I was; just a big disgrace.

One: Because My father hates me.

Two: Because I can’t live without Chris.

Three: Because I hate myself.

Four: Because everything nasty ever said to me was true.

Five: Because I need a release.

I smiled at the blood, a kind of terrified excitement running through me. That was the last thing I remember.

*****

What do you think will happen next?