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Everybody Hates Me
My name is Kevin James Elliot and this is the story of how my world fell apart and the fight to get it back.
It started about a year ago when I was 15. That is when I started to realize that I was different from other boys, including my twin brother John Christian Elliot. He was about 12 minutes older than me. My brother and I have brown hair except John has our mother's green eyes and I have my dad's chocolate brown eyes. We have slim builds, kind of like a swimmers body, but we play basketball. I am junior varsity and he plays on the varsity team. He had started to date girls and I didn't. One night when I was alone in our room, I admitted to myself I was gay. Suddenly, I got horribly scared. What was going to happen to me? I would soon find out.
For the past several months, John had been trying to get me to go out with one of his girlfriends friends, but I told him I wasn't interested. The final straw hit one Friday night and I screamed back at him to stop trying to get me to go out with Becky. I don't like her and I don't feel much like going out with her! "Jeez, Kevin, what's wrong with you?" John asked. "I just thought it could be fun is all, and besides Becky has a huge crush on you?" I just glared at him and went back to reading.
As I sat with my head against the headboard, I began to wonder if John suspected anything. It would be several more weeks before he found out about me and it exploded in my face.
After our argument that night and all weekend I barely said two words to him. I was withdrawing from him and everyone. Even when my best friend, Carter called me to hang out both Saturday and Sunday, I declined. I told him I didn't feel well and I had homework to do. It was all a lie, but I couldn't face him or anyone for that matter.
Monday morning came and I did more of the same, I grabbed a bagel after getting dressed and said a quick "bye" to my parents as I ran out the front door. Cater tried to catch up to me as I walked down the street, I pretended that I didn't hear him and kept on walking. I wanted to be left alone. I needed to sort things out for myself before I could begin to try to explain it to anyone. I avoided everyone, even the other guys on the team all day.
At lunch, I found an empty table and sat down. A couple of the guys on the team tried to sit down and I glared up at them. They got up and went to sit at their usual table. Carter tried to do the same, but he left also. "What's up with Kevin?" Shawn looked over at me and asked Carter. "I don't know, he's been avoiding me." Carter said. The conversation finally returned to the first game that was coming up the following Saturday.
John's girlfriend looked my way and smiled then turned back and asked. "Why is Kevin sitting by himself?" "I don't know," John said. "We've barely spoken since the argument we had Friday night about going out on a double date." Vanessa kissed John on the cheek and said, "talk to him." "I've tried, but he keeps glaring at me and ignoring me."
On my way to my last period of the day, I got shoved into the wall by a football player, Tyler Clinton and he called out "fag" as he walked by me. My stomach turned to knots after he said that and tears started to well in my eyes, but I fended them off. I decided to skip my history class and walked to Greenfield Park, near our home. I always went there when I needed to think. All I could think as I sat there on one of the wooden tables is how it was starting and I was powerless to stop it.
When I finally decided to go home, I walked in to hear my parents arguing, again, about what I didn't care. They looked my way for a moment, then went back to verbally bashing each other. They had been doing that a lot lately and it was getting more frequent. I wanted to avoid John, so I went to the guest room and laid down on the bed. Before I knew it, I was asleep.
I woke up about 6:00 am Thursday morning. Everyone was still asleep, so I slipped into the shower, got dressed, grabbed a bagel and left out the front door quietly. I went back to the park and sat watching the sun rise. I tried to think what I was going to do. I couldn't think of anything as I put my head in my hands and began to cry. Next thing I knew, Carter jogged by the park and noticed I was sitting there. He jogged on over to me and touched my shoulder. "You ok, Kevin?" He asked. "Please just go away, I said, you don't want a friend like me." What are you talking about? He questioned. I just can't talk about it, ok? I'd rather our friendship end, then fess up and tell him the truth. Kevin...he started to trail off. We've been friends since we were little, please talk to me? I've changed, I cried out. I'm not like you, I'm different, ok? What are you... he never got the rest of the sentence out as I got up and ran away.
I did the same routine as yesterday, I avoided everyone, sat alone at lunch and again at the end of the day was shoved into the wall again. Tyler again yelled out "fag" as he walked by laughing to himself. How did he know? I asked myself. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of hiding it.
I skipped basketball practice again, but somehow word got back to John about what had happened. Tyler told him, since they were both varsity jocks that I was a fag. John at first didn't believe him, but he pointed to the fact I refused to go out with Becky. John defended me for a moment when Tyler said think about it...
I was home when John got back from practice. He came up to the guest room door I'd been sleeping in the past few days, and banged on the door. When I didn't answer right away, he turned the knob and entered. He started in right away. "Is it true?" he asked with a pissed off look on his face. "What are you talking about?" I asked dejectedly. "Are you a fag?' I stared blankly at him, my face turning red from embarrassment. "Its true!" He screamed at me. "Jesus Christ, Kevin! I can't believe this!" My father walked passed the room and said, "What did you say John?" "Kevin's a fag, dad." "Jesus Christ." My father said. I knew they were both disgusted with me. I tore past both of them and ran out of the house. Now it would get out for sure.
A moment later, when my father regained his composure, he hit John and said to not use that language in his house. John tried to hit my father back, but he threw him up against the wall and stormed out. John ran and told my mother who was so disgusted by the news, she packed an overnight bag and left. "I can't deal with this too. My son is a filthy faggot." Both my brother and father went to their rooms and sat there. After a couple of hours, my father started to worry when I hadn't come home. I did eventually go home and went right to my room. It was out in the open now and I was going to be blamed for the aftermath.
John made sure the next couple of days at school for me were hell. It was 'fag' this or `fag' that out of his mouth. I told coach after that I wouldn't be playing anymore. He tried to get me to talk to him as I did in years passed, but I just got up with tears in my eyes and left.
Vanessa and Becky came up to John after school and asked if it were true? John told them that it was. They seemed as disgusted by it as he did. "What are you going to do?" Vanessa asked him. "I don't know yet." John said looking passed her.
My dad was still not speaking to me when I got home. I wondered if he blamed me like I'm sure John did for mom leaving. I just walked passed him and went to my room. I laid there crying. This is not how I wanted it to come out, I thought to myself.
The next 3-4 days was more of the same. Two things had been added, I had been jumped and beaten up a couple of times at school. I also had `fag' spray painted on my locker
Still no comfort came from my father when I got home. I got some ice for the bruises on my face and went to my room and cried. A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. "Can I come in son?" my dad asked solemnly. "Please go away." I cried out. Of course he ignored me and entered anyway. He put his hand on my shoulder, I pulled away from his touch. "Please don't pull away from me son." "Why shouldn't I? You have a fag for a son and you hate me!" "I'm sorry son, I don't hate you, its just been a difficult thing for me to accept." "I know you blame me for mom leaving." "No, I don't Kevin. We had a lot of problems way before this came out."
My dad tried to get me to look at him, but I refused to turn towards him. After a few more moments, he got up and left. I knew what I had to do...run away.
When I was reasonably sure that neither my dad or John was awake, I got up and quickly jotted a note for my dad apologizing to him for what I had done. I got dressed, threw some clothes in my back pack and crept downstairs. My dad was asleep on the sofa, so I decided to slip out the porch door. I slid it open slowly and crept out into the dark. I didn't know where I was going to go, but somehow after what I think was a couple of hours, I ended up at the bus station.
I sat down on one of the benches and put my head in my hands. I started sobbing uncontrollably. After about a half hour, a worker came by and asked if I was alright. I said, "Yea, sure, fantastic." He asked where I was headed. I told him I didn't know. I reached into my pockets and pulled out $35. How far can I get on this? I asked, showing him the wad in my hand. "Not very far, I'm afraid. I think it's enough to get you to Houston." I thought for a minute, then it came to me, Aunt Helen and Uncle Larry live in Houston. "Perfect." I said. "Can I buy a ticket?" He looked at me and said I needed to be 18 to buy a ticket. "Hey, mister", I said, "you'd be really helping me out if you'd sell me a ticket." Normally, I wouldn't son, but I've been where you are once, so ok. But don't tell anyone I did this, it could mean my job. "I won't."
He sold me the ticket. It was 2:30 in the morning and the bus left at 6:00. I decided to try to get some sleep. About 10 to 6:00, that same man came by and woke me up. I got up, went to the bathroom and was back in time to board the bus. 10 minutes later the bus pulled out and I was on my way.
About an hour later, my father and brother were waking up. John walked past my door and spat at it. At about a quarter past 7:00, my father knocked on my door and when I didn't answer, he entered. He saw my bed was made and saw the note I left that read, "I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused." His eyes began to water as he clasped the note to his chest. When our father didn't come downstairs, he went up to get him. He saw the door was open and entered. "Dad, what's wrong?" he asked. "Kevin's run away!" he cried out. "What?!" he ran over to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "Dad, I'm sorry." He jerked away from John. "This is your fault, John!" He stared blankly at our father stunned at what he was hearing. "Get away from me right now and go to school John!" my dad screamed.
My father immediately called his boss and said he would need the day. After explaining to him what had happened, he excused him from work. He would spend the next few hours looking for me, until he thought he ran out of options. Suddenly it came to him, check the bus station.
When John got to school, he met up with Vanessa, Becky and Tyler. He told them that his faggot brother ran away from home and that his dad blamed him for it. Little did he know, he would regret treating me like he had.
My dad got to the bus station about 11:30 and went right to the teller. He asked if he could help him. Dad asked if he had seen a boy who looked like this? Pulling out a picture of me. The teller hadn't seen me, so he asked a couple others. The one who had helped me was just getting ready to leave and told him, after a slight confrontation that he saw I was headed to Houston. He thanked him and left.
About the same time my dad left the bus station, I arrived in Houston. I exited the bus and went for a pay phone. I dialed Aunt Helen. She answered the phone with her usual southern drawl and seemed happy to hear from me. I told her I was in town and asked if she could come pick me up. I couldn't see, but I knew she was questioning why I was there. She said she'd be by in about 20 minutes.
We arrived at Aunt Helen's place about 12:30. We hadn't spoke much on the ride up, but I knew I'd have to explain why I was there sooner or later. When we pulled up, Uncle Larry was working in the garage. I ran up to him and threw my arms around him and we embraced. I really did love my aunt and uncle. They ushered me inside and got me settled in the room I had spent so much time in when I was younger.
We spent the afternoon talking and laughing, thankfully neither of them had asked why I was there. Just as we were about to eat dinner, the phone rang. Aunt Helen looked at the caller id, she then looked over at me and mouthed, "it's your father." My uncle told her to answer it. "Helen, he screamed into the receiver, is my son there with you?" I instantly jumped and started to feel sick to my stomach. There was a long pause. "Don't lie to me Helen!" She put her hand over the receiver and said, "I have to tell him you are here." I tried to mutter `no', but it was no use. "Yes, Patrick, Kevin is here with us." "I'll be there in a half hour."
After she hung up the phone, I shouted, "Oh, shit!" "Language, young man." Aunt Helen said. I have to leave, I'm sorry. As I began to run upstairs, my uncle stopped me and said, "you can't avoid him forever." Tears started to form in my eyes and I fell into my uncles loving arms. He held me until we heard a car pull up. My father turned off the car, pushed the door open and slammed it shut. He ran up to the front door and frantically rang the bell. Aunt Helen left the dining room and went to answer the door. He pushed his way passed her and asked where I was. I emerged from the dining room and he looked at me with a look of despair on his face. "That was a very stupid and hurtful thing you did running away." There were tears forming in his eyes and mine.
I couldn't deal with all of this right now, I told myself, so I ran from the living room and out the front door. "I'm sorry daddy." I hadn't called him daddy since I was 8 years old. Before I could stop myself, I had run out into the road and a car swerved to miss me, but I was hit and went flying into the air. My father and aunt and uncle looked on in horror.
I was unconscious instantly as I slammed and hit the ground. I barely remember it now. The three of them ran out into the road and my father grabbed onto me and held me rocking me gently.
The ambulance arrived about 20 minutes and after administering drugs and using paddles to jump start my heart after I'd flat lined twice, the paramedics finally got me stabilized. I was rushed into the emergency room, given more drugs and had iv bags hung.
An hour later, the doctor came out and said that I was stable, but in a coma. He didn't know long I'd be in it. The three of them embraced and wept.
My dad called my mother who again said she couldn't deal with this and cursed her faggot son again. He called John, who at first didn't seem interested since I'd chased mom away, or so he believed. But after a little coaxing, he agreed to drive down tomorrow.
John didn't clue any of his friends or anyone else in on what had happened. He just drove and suddenly worry and dread consumed him. Tears formed in his eyes as he was trying to concentrate. He had to pull over on the side of the road and get himself composed again.
20 minutes later, he pulled back on the road and just drove and drove, fighting back the tears he was feeling about how he'd been treating me. At 7:34 he entered the hospital and demanded to know where I was at. The nurse at the station said, "room 1041." John ran to the elevator and pushed the button for the tenth floor. It stopped at several floors before finally coming to rest at the tenth floor. John got off the elevator and ran down the hall passed the nurses station. When he got to room 1041, he pushed the door open saw the three of them sitting there holding a silent vigil over my bed and as he saw me laying there, he broke down again. Our father jumped up and embraced him. "Son, I'm sorry for what I said, I was just upset that Kevin had run away." "It doesn't matter now, dad." He said.
Our dad called his boss and told him that he was in Houston and that I had been hit by a car. He broke down into tears as he was telling his boss he'd need more time off. His boss told him to take all the time he needed and he would be paid for all of it. Dad worked for an insurance company and they treated him very well.
I wish I could say that there was a quick happy ending to this, but no there wasn't.
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. After 18 months, the doctor's said that there was very little possibility of any change in my condition. Dad didn't want to accept it and by this point John had been kicking himself so hard he'd even broken up with Vanessa. Everyone at school did eventually know, but I don't think most of them cared. Carter had been down to see me several times, but even now he was accepting the possibility that I'd never wake up.
Just as all hope was lost, the monitors began to bleep and my father and brother noticed movement near my eyes. I slowly blinked my eyes open, my eyes having trouble adjusting to the light. I tried to speak something once my eyes adjusted to the bright fluorescent lighting. My father put his hand on my arm and told me not to speak. He looked at John and told him to run and get the doctor. The doctor entered, his eyes wide with amazement that I was awake.
Over the next several days, it was explained to me what had happened and apologies were handed out from both my father and my brother. I was also told that our mother had not been to see me and that she and dad had gotten a divorce. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my father leaned in over and wiped them away.
Dad's employer was handling all of the expenses of my hospital stay. In total, it was about $110,000.
That didn't even include all the rehabilitation that would follow.