With Love We Can Be Human By James
Disclaimer
This is a story which deals with sexual as well as romantic situations between teenaged males. Should you be offended by such material or if you're not of the legal age to read this type of story, then please find something else to read.
This story also contains scenes of violence as well as profanity, so if you feel you can't deal with such details, then the advice above applies. Otherwise, enjoy the story.
This is a work of fiction. Places of business in real life may be mentioned from time to time to further along the story line. Also, names of people in the story who are living or dead is strictly coincidental. Any mistakes are strictly my own and I take full responsibility for any other errors of said story.
If you want to contact me about the story, I can be reached at vector18@msn.com. I'm willing to talk with anyone about the story and related things, but am willing also to talk about anything. That being said though, flames will be happily fucking ignored, LOL.
Please also remember to donate to Nifty so that these stories and other materials on the site can remain free to the public.
Introduction
As people who begin reading this story and who have read my other stories, "Deep Love and "a Safe Place" will know, these stories deal with various forms of abuse. I also have issues in my stories about rape as it's still something that while it's being talked about, it could stand to be discussed in a more opened way. Some people and I have had good conversations regarding rape and abuse as well as bullying. Unfortunately though, some people act as if me getting worked up about these issues is wrong and they always speak as if the solutions to kids being helped out of abusive or bullying situations will somehow materialize just like that. They often end up sounding like the white moderates back in the 1960s who for all their talk of sympathizing with the sad situations of beaten down African-American people, they'd still tell them just to wait a little longer and someday, their day of justice and true freedom would come. This is unfortunate that we have this attitude about abuse, that people for all their desires to discuss and get out in the opened the problems of abuse against children ultimately shut down and when they express a disagreeable attitude about the way in which I address abuse, I'm given what I believe to be the message that they agree that these things happen, but they don't like how I'm discussing it. This seems to be the typical thing I see, that it's easier to have problems with how abuse is discussed and as a result, have these nondiscussions about how to talk about abuse rather than making sure that we as a society talk about it in the first place. We live in an age in which people, mainly liberals love the abused, but they don't love the screams of the abused.
No one is helped by this method of conversation, not myself, not other people who really want to address issues of child abuse and rape and certainly the children themselves are not helped by to put it frankly, this Politically Correct fucking around. That being said, because we don't live in a world made better by the second coming of Jesus if you're a Fundamentalist Christian, or by reason and Science if you're a secular fundamentalist such as people like Sam Harris or Richard Dawkins, we still have these problems of child abuse, rape and antigay bullying. The decision of the Supreme Court on June 26 of 2015 didn't bring us to a post-antigay and postdiscriminatory society where these things hardly if it all happen now. Our lives as well as the concept of time are not linear. We do not morally progress towards a sun-lit utopia whether it be through malformed theology such as promulgated by Pat Robertson, nor through the myth of Science and reason promulgated by people such as Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins or the late Christopher Hitchens. So this brings me to my main point to which I turn next.
I'm horrified by, and am growing more and more concerned every day about what is referred to as "The Troubled Teen Industry" which is the various institutions such as wilderness camps, behavioral modification schools and boot camps all if not most of which are residential. You may know of some of them such as Turn About Ranch, Aspen Education Group, Tranquility Bay and Cross Creek Academy. When these places are talked about in the corporate-controlled mainstream media, they're always discussing them with a tiresome and over-blown emphasis on teens who are addicted to drugs, alcohol, huffing and people mostly shown as women who are plagued with eating disorders. These teens are always portrayed as so beyond the reach of their family's help that these groups in to which they are trapped are not only necessary, but even appreciated. This is one more in the on-going demonization of our youth in this society.
When a child is sent to these places, it can be done either by the parent, but if the parent chooses not to drive them themselves, they can get what's called a Teen Escort Service to do it for them. Here's how it works. Once the paperwork is completed and the money secured which is usually anywhere from $1600.00 to maybe even $2495.00, the drivers of these transport agencies usually tell the parents to make sure that they don't tell the child that they're coming to pick them up. These drivers love the element of surprise. Once this step is completed, the drivers show up at the house usually around 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning. They knock on the door and the parents answer. Once inside, the drivers go to the child's bedroom and wake them up and this isn't accidental. They want the child disoriented enough so that they might not put up much of a fight, but awake enough to follow orders and get in the transport van. Some children have struggled, but they go with the men in the end no matter if they resist or not. Some adults who are former victims of this service as well as the school to which they are transported, and who have spoken out against these transport services say that they're usually told: "You can go easy or you can go hard.". Once they're told this by the drivers, they get a couple of things packed, usually clothes and the barest essentials, then after the parents hug them and tell them that they love them or that this is for their own good or similarly worded sentiments, the drivers take the child out of the house and put them in the van.
Some kids are handcuffed, some are not, but regardless of whether or not restraints are used, the child is scared enough by this time that they usually comply. If the facility to which they're being taken is only a couple of hours away in the same state, they drive the whole way there. If it's out of state, then the van drives the child to an airport and the drivers and the child get on a flight to the place.
At these places, little is given in the way of education. Text books are usually little more than workbooks with sheets on which students read small bits of information and they have to answer questions at the end about what they learned and the idea is that they do this until they have it 100% correct. There aren't really anyone in the way of actual teachers teaching this method of education, it's mainly self-taught. In addition to this, children are at times beaten, forced to exercise beyond what their bodies can tolerate and in even more extreme cases, girls at these places have been put in role-playing games in which they're matched up with a boy and together, they're forced to role-play the girl being raped and it's based on past rapes the girl might have suffered from family or other people in her life.
In another case, a woman who was sent to one of these places was abused verbally and it was matched to things that happened in her life. In other words, when the adults verbally abused her, they said things to her about her father who had been dead for several years. They said that it was probably her own fault her father was dead and that he probably had never loved her.
Other girls who had eating disorders were made to eat in front of the boys and if any of the kids got sick, injured or tried to tell their parents about what was going on at the centers, they were dismissed as being manipulative. When a child would finally be allowed to use the phone to call home, one of the adults would sit right next to the child as they talked to their parents on the phone. If the child tried to open up to their parents in the course of the conversation, the adult would tell the parent that the child was lying to them trying to get them to come and get them out of the program.
Teenaged children aren't sent to these places just for drinking under-aged, doing drugs or having sex in irresponsible ways. The mainstream media always use these more dramatic cases to cause a deep and wide-spread emotional reaction in the public and manipulate us to support these prisons. The reality is, teen children can be sent to these prisons for anything. These places are after mainly profit for one thing and they'll allow these children to be sent to them for any reason one can think of, but again, the more dramatic cases are the only ones the mainstream media reports in order to hide the more nonissue reasons kids are thrown in to these prisons and it can be done right under our noses since we're distracted by watching the "Really Bad Kids" being thrown away.
The marketing of these places is also something to take note of. When parents go online to sign up their child for these places, the applications push them to send their child in language that suggests a heightened sense of danger. They can word it to the effect of: "Please be sure to enroll your child with us before their behavior gets even more out of control or before someone gets killed.". Desperate to get their child under control and their emotions usually pushed to the breaking point, coupled with this highly loaded language of these application forms, it's not hard to get the parents to comply. The costs the parents are asked to pay can range from $5000.00 to almost $8000.00 a month for the child.
To talk a little more about other reasons a child can be sent to one of these places, a woman named Tori was sent to one of these places when she was almost 15 years old. She at 14, learned how to play the guitar and had become quite good at it, according to her friends with whom she went to school. Her grandparents didn't like this and so they sent her to one of these schools to get her to reform. Kids can also be sent to these schools if their parents don't like the fact that they're gay as well.
Once Tori was allowed to leave the school she was sent to, she says in an article, that her grandparents would ask her from time to time when she'd be upset about stuff if she wanted to go back to the school. Then when she made it clear to them that she'd never go back, they went in the other direction and when she eventually graduated from high school and then from college, they gave credit mainly to the school in which she had been imprisoned back when she was 14 and 15 which I can only describe as the ultimate slap in the face.
Deaths have also occurred at these places. Some kids killed themselves either at the schools or once back home, unable to cope with the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder they were no doubt having to endure. One boy, Aaron Bacon was killed after virtually being ran to death at a wilderness camp and as people who understand this corporate and criminal enterprise for what it is will see as no surprise, the people involved in his death as well as the school itself were only fined and no jail time was imposed on any of them. In Aaron's journal, he gives a passage in which he talks shortly before his death about his mother writing a letter to him a few weeks before saying that it was hard for her to continue to love him, that she loved him more when he was little as opposed to now and it was revealed after his death, that unknown to him, his mother was told by the school to write that letter to him in an effort to push him to change and be a better person.
The physical, sexual, verbal and psychological abuse of children in order to shape them in to well-behaved and perfect children, then in to these same adults is not a virtue. The abuse of these children is not a regrettable necessity which will make them obey their parents or anyone in society. The idea that the trashing and destruction of the minds and bodies of our children in order that they may have a perfect life in which they are not ever disobedient or out of control is an idea promulgated only by utopians who no longer have any understanding much less a rudimentary knowledge of what it means to be human. They promulgate the idea that evil in terms of what they believe these broken kids to be is something that is external and that once this evil is beaten or removed from these kids, then everyone, these kids included can progress to our sun-lit utopia in which no disobedience ever happens. Evil is something with which we all have to guard against and something with which we all have to struggle. Once evil is externalized and a person believes that evil is no longer an internal force, then they take on the attributes of the people they claim to oppose. The only way to keep evil behind the locked door, is to seek it within and understand that given the right conditions and situations, we all, adult or child can do bad things.
Abuse of children and the destruction of their minds is not the regrettable or even necessary outcome of shaping them in to better people. These utopians speak in these high and noble abstract ideals and they end up committing abuse and even murder against these kids. This in the end isn't about helping anyone, it's about moral depravity and it's high time these Bastards are tracked down and put in prison for the rest of their natural lives as the child abusers and murderers they are! For all their talk of high moral and noble ideals, these child-abusing adults are just criminals!
James: November 2015
This story is dedicated to the victims, both former and current who have or who are suffering through the horrors of The Troubled Teen Industry. You all deserve better than that. This story is also dedicated to the memory of Aaron Bacon. From what I've been able to find online about who he was, his strengths clearly outweighed his moments of drug use and weakness.
With Love We Can Be Human
Prologue
Torey Jacobson
My sleep was shattered as I felt pain in my right arm. My eyes snapped opened and I focused. On my right, was a man, a large man that I had never seen before. I pulled away, but couldn't free my arm from his grip.
"Let go of me!" I screamed.
"Shut up," he said softly, but threateningly. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. The choice is yours."
Straight ahead, I saw another man going through my closet and he was taking a few shirts and a few pairs of pants out of it and putting them in a plastic bag. He turned to me and walked over to me.
"I don't see you getting up any faster," he said. "Oh, and I'm Steve. The guy holding your arm is named Greg. In case you haven't noticed, he has a really strong grip. He can make that grip even stronger and it might cause your arm to break if you struggle any further."
"Mom! Dad!" I screamed. "Help!"
I didn't see them in the room, but I then heard footsteps and they were in the room. They stood there in the doorway and I waited to see what they would do.
"Dad!" I yelled. "Help me! Get these Bastards away from me!"
The man named Greg tightened his grip and I began crying. I didn't do well with being yelled at, and physical abuse wasn't something I ever got used to, not from my parents or from anyone else.
"You don't ever talk about us like that again," Greg said as his voice became even darker. "We're here to help you."
"I don't understand!" I yelled through my tears. "Dad! Mom! Please, get them away from me!"
"These men are here to help you," my mom said. "I'm sorry it's come to this, but you've caused enough trouble around here and we can't take it any longer."
"Your mom is right," my dad said. "You won't give up the boys, you run away from home, you disrespect our beliefs by always trying to go your own way and we've told you many times to give up the metal and the badboy image, but you never listen. No son of mine is going to be a perverted homosexual. I told you that you could go live with some other relatives or give up the gay thing and continue to live here on that condition. You made your choice and now we're making ours."
"I don't even have a boyfriend right now!" I yelled. I didn't either, but there was no talking to them once they got their own ideas about something. "Please! You have to believe me!"
"You're going with those men," my mom said. "Your dad and I really can't take this any longer as I said. You've brought enough shame on he and I, not to mention endless amounts of shame on this whole family. You're going to a place which can help you and maybe in a year or two, you'll be back here and you'll be a far more respectful son."
"Year or two!" I yelled trying to free my arm from Greg's grip. "What are you talking about! Where are you sending me!"
"Get up now," Greg said a little louder now.
"No!" I said and pulled my arm and this time it did come free. "Get the fuck away from me! Just let me go back to bed! Please, I'll be good!"
Greg grabbed me and picked me up like I weighed nothing. He stood me on my feet and grabbed my arms and pulled them roughly behind my back. Cold metal closed around my wrists and I began struggling with fresh panic. That's when my fear gave way to anger.
"Fine then!" I screamed. "Fuck you both! Fuck both of you sick Bastards too!"
I was quickly turned around and Greg slapped me across the face.
"I told you never to call us that!" he screamed at me.
"Fuck you all!" I screamed at the top of my voice.
I was quickly grabbed and Greg as well as Steve were practically lifting me and carrying me through the house as I screamed and roared every profane word I knew.
"Oh yeah," I yelled turning to my mom and dad who were walking behind us. "Your God and Jesus can go fuck themselves too! I hate you both! I hate your fucking bullshit beliefs! Your fucking preacher can fucking go to Hell too!"
As I yelled this last part, Greg and Steve stopped and put me down. I turned and I saw my parents and the stone-faced looks they gave me.
"That's really helping your case," my dad said.
"You both never did love me did you!" I screamed at them as tears spilled down my face once more.
"Oh Hell," my mom said finally losing patients. "Shut up Torey, just shut up and get out of this house!"
"Then fuck you!" I screamed as the tears continued.
I was picked up once again and carried out to a van which was parked in the driveway. I was roughly halled in and put in one of the seats in the back, then belted in.
"Where are we going anyway?" I asked as my tears began to stop.
"It's a place called The Healing and Hope Center," Greg said as he stepped away and got in the driver's seat. "It's in Salt-lake City and it's in the woods. You'll like it once you get used to it."
We began driving and I was scared. I had no idea what awaited me and I began shaking harder and I felt like crying once again.
Chapter 1
"Noooooooo!" I screamed as I sat up in bed. I was sobbing and I then heard my bedroom door open and the light was turned on.
My head was now in my hands and I couldn't see anyone, but I felt hands on my shoulders, then arms wrap around me. I knew that it was Michael. He was kind to me and he would comfort me after I would have bad dreams.
"It's okay Torey," he said softly. "You're safe with us now. It's just a bad dream and they won't get you, never again. I'm right here."
0000
Michael
I held Torey as he cried and I was saddened to see that on this particular night, he had one of the far more terrifying dreams. He had been doing well for the most part after a few months, but obviously on that night, his dreams got the better of him. He had been living with us at Meadows of Safety since he was 14. He was 15 now and for a little over a year, since my group and I had rescued him from The Healing and Hope Center, he had been undergoing therapy given to him by Josh and I. He was beginning to do better and though he would always have some Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, he wasn't as fearful and closed off now as he had been for the first six months of staying with us.
0000
Torey
I continued to let Michael hold me for several minutes after my tears had long-since been gone. His arms felt good and made me feel safe and protected. He sat on the bed holding me and rocking me gently as I got my breathing under control. Soon though, I motioned that I wanted him to let go. I got out of bed and motioned for him to follow me.
"Were you wanting some tea?" he asked me. When I'd have nightmares, tea, the decaffeinated brand would help, so that's where I was headed at that moment.
"Y'''Y'''Y'''Yeah," I stuttered out. "W'''w'''w'''would you like some?"
"I'll join you," he replied.
I had problems with stuttering as a child and still have it, but it's worse since I got out of the H&H place. It probably also didn't help that they'd make fun of me for that, but more on that later. Besides, that wasn't completely the worsed in terms of shit they did to me in the name of shaping me in to the perfect well-behaved child After being rescued from that place, they discovered that I was left with brain damage which effected my ability to learn. I also had a slight speech difficulty where I spoke with a slight slurring quality in addition to my stuttering. I could still learn, I wasn't left completely devoid of that ability, but it took longer. Michael said that the doctors were able to find that it was due to all the hits I took from the people there. These people definitely took great pleasure in using my head for a battering ram and I can't count to this day, how many times I lost consciousness when they'd slam my head against a wall or slam me in the head with their fists. Long story short though, I didn't get through that unscathed and I'd always remember.
Walking in to the kitchen, I put on the water and then looked up at the clock. It was after 2:00 in the morning, but since it was Saturday morning and none of us had classes or anything going on that day, I didn't have to be up early. I sat down at the table and Michael sat across from me.
"I hope you don't have much to do yourself today," I said. "I'm keeping you up and you run this place."
"He smiled and reached for my hand. I let him take it and he held it for a moment. "I'm okay," he answered. "I just have to get some stuff from the store for dinner for the evening, then that's about it. So do you have anything you want to do out in town today?"
"I'll probably go to the one music store I saw when you and I were in town a couple of days ago. I wanted to check out some of the guitars and amps they have."
"Sounds good," he replied smiling. "Do you want someone to stay with you while you're at the store? It's a little after six months now and we like to slowly let people do things by themselves out in the community. I know you and I talked about that a couple of days ago. How do you feel about myself or one of the other guys driving you to the store and letting you stay there for a little while, then you call when you want to come back. You seem like you're doing better now with just even being out in the opened verses a few months ago."
I had been afraid to be out in opened places in the first few months of being with Michael. He helped me though in our sessions where he'd give me different things to do to calm my fears and anxieties. Once they began working, he and I would go out for small trips, such as to the grocery store and to the bank where he'd get financial things taken care of and he'd gently help me make general conversation with the woman behind the counter. This slowly began working and after a while, he and I would go out to lunch, then to places that I wanted to go. Soon, the fear and anxiety were more in the background than they had been before and now that Michael talked about me being by myself while at some of the places I wanted to go, I felt a smile and a sense of happiness come over me that his belief in me was growing more and more stronger as the days went by. It was also amazing how far I had come in that year and so I was definitely ready at six months in to the second year of me being at Michael's place to get out and be by myself when traveling certain places.
"I'd like that," I said and smiled. "Thank you. I'll be sure to call once I'm ready to go. I have money so I might get lunch out some place. Would you like me to bring you anything back?"
"No thanks," he said. "I appreciate the offer though."
"You're welcome," I replied.
We drank our tea and I began to feel more and more calm and relaxed once again. Once I finished it, I took mine and Michael's cup once he finished his over to the counter and rinsed them out. After sharing another hug, Michael and I walked back to my room and I went back to bed and fell quickly asleep.
0000
Brandon Taylor
I awoke that Saturday morning and when I sat up in bed, I smiled. It was the first day of Summer Break from school and I was excited. I figured that my friends and I would be having a lot of fun while out of school. The day before had been our last day for the year and when we had gotten out, my friends and I went out to eat, then back to my house for a bit to listen to music and talk.
After they left that night, I settled in to read, then eventually get to bed. I have a brother and two parents. They adopted me when I was born from a mother who was in to drugs unfortunately, but they've been the best family I've ever known.
My mother is Linda Taylor and her husband is Bryan. My mom works as a doctor at Sangger University Hospital and my dad is a preacher at one of the churches in town.
My brother Zack is the best older brother I could ever have. He's 17 and is looking at going to college for Psychology in a couple of years. He's been one of my biggest supporters as well as have been my parents and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as my older brother than him.
For me, I'm looking at Psychology as well, but am looking at a couple of other things. I try to think of career choices seriously, rather than think of being 15 as having plenty of time, then suddenly getting to 18 years old and it all hitting me. I decided growing up, that I wouldn't think like that and mom and dad wouldn't stand for it either. So I look at all options and try to focus on the best one that would fit me.
When I'm not doing work involving academics and studying, I enjoy playing base guitar and drums. I've always enjoyed that and I'm a completely incurable metal head. With the exceptions of National Socialist Metal, name the type of Metal and I've probably got it all loaded up on my music player. I also enjoy reading. I've been reading since I was little and as I got in to my teen years, I began reading fairly deep stuff like Poe, Orwell and Joseph Conrad. Some of the wording was one thing I had to get used to, but once I did I really enjoyed it as well as the deep moral concepts these writers talked about in their stories.
Anyway, as for what I look like, from the way girls and some guys look at me around school and out in the community, I must look really good or at least passing. I have curly-black hair, sea-green eyes and I stand about 5-9 and am around 140 LBs with some of it being well-developed muscle since I work out regularly and swim in the Summer months. I also have skin that gets fairly white in the Winter months, but tans quickly in Summer which makes people always look at me longer, especially girls and some guys my own age.
I also have a deeply voracious appetite for the guys. I knew I was gay since I was 12 and while I had a little anxiety about telling my parents and brother, it wasn't much. My dad and mom made no secret of the fact that they were openly supportive of homosexuality as well as anyone who is openly gay. My dad would usually give sermons on not being tolerant of homosexuals, but of being excepting of them. He hated the word tolerance, as the true definition of tolerant is really to still have a problem with something or someone but not actively cause them harm. How in the end is that really acceptance, is how my dad looked at it. When he began preaching against homophobia back when my brother was first born at another church, he lost many congregants and was asked to change his messages to fit what the bible says about homosexuality. He refused and was told to leave.
He would have left on his own had the church authorities not asked him first, as he wasn't about to be party to a system of hate and oppression pretending to be a religious institution. Then finally, because my mom and dad are both full-blooded African Americans, they to a certain extent understand the pain and isolation people be it man, woman or child in the GLBT Community goes through. GLBT might entail different issues than black, but the pain and isolation faced by both minority groups are the same in the end. That's why it wasn't too much trouble for me when I came out to them and my brother. The things that caused me a little more anxiety and even some fear was people at school. I knew my closest friends would support me, but I was worried about how kids at school would take it as well as whether or not they'd support me if or when they might find out.
Ending my thinking on all this, I got out of bed and showered and then dressed. After putting away my dirty clothes and closing the hamper, I went down to the kitchen and saw my mom and dad up and my mom placing stuff on the table for breakfast. I said good morning to them both and hugged then kissed both of them.
"So do you have any plans for today?" my mom asked.
"I might check out that music store that just opened up a couple of months ago. I might call Dana and Austyn and see if they want to go with me, or at least go to lunch with me. Do you want me to bring you guys anything back when I go to lunch. I'd be going to eat after I go to the store."
"I'll probably get something while I'm out today," my dad said. "I have to get some things written up for tomorrow's sermon."
"Okay," I said. "That's cool."
"I'll be getting something at the hospital when I stop in to check in on a couple of patients," my mom said.
"Mom," I said in an exaggerated wine. "You can do so much better than baked bedpan contents casserole."
"What!" she said exaggerating her shock at what I said. "In case you didn't look across the table, I have food on my plate. You trying to completely destroy my appetite before the morning's up?"
"We all three laughed and I continued.
"Seriously though, I tried a couple of the cheese burgers there and calling it by that name is being kind to say the least."
"Okay," she laughed. "Point taken. Joking aside, I do need to stop eating so much of that crap. I've just been so busy the past couple of weeks and one of my cases is fine one moment, then almost ready to take a turn for the worsed the next minute. Were I not having to deal with that patient's medical problems, I wouldn't really have to go in today for the amount of time I am."
"I hope your patient gets better," I said. "Really, I do."
"Thank you," she replied. "I really appreciate that."
"I might have to cook something for dinner so you can rest for the evening," my dad said. "I can cook while you hang in Brandon's room listening to Metal with him."
"Hell no," she said laughing. "Can you explain any differently how you and your friends listen to that stuff?"
"With our ears," I replied.
We all three laughed at that and I put a little more food on my plate.
"Well, there are worsed things you could be listening to," she said smiling.
"That's right," I agreed.
"Anyway," she said turning to my dad. "I wouldn't mind if you made some Mexican tonight. You think that can be arranged?"
"Yeah, definitely," he said.
"I definitely think so," I added.
Zack was at a friend's house and had spent the night before there, so he'd be back later on that day. So that's why it was just dad, mom and I at the table that morning. Finally, I finished eating and let them know that I'd clean up the dishes and the kitchen so they could get headed out. They thanked me and we all three shared a hug and a kiss, then they left.
I got the kitchen and the dishes cleaned up and got headed up to my room to vacuum the floor and do a little quick cleaning since I did a full cleaning on it the weekend before. Once I finished with vacuuming and dusting, I called my friends.
Austyn and his family had moved here from Colorado back when he was 2 and he loved living here and so did his parents. He and I met back when we were both five and had been good friends ever sense. We then met Dana when we were seven and she was a year older than us and she immediately took to us and we to her.
Dana was like a sister I had never had and after I came out to my parents and to Zack, I called her and talked to her and when her and I met at her house the next day, I came out to her and she said that she had always known. She went on to let me know that I still had her support and that she'd always be there for me.
Austyn was a different story though. Though his parents had taught him to be accepting of people who are gay, he began to reject that idea when he turned 13 in favor of the masculine ways of looking at sexuality thanks to a couple of boys he hung out with when we got in to middle school. The two boys he began hanging with were always talking and making jokes about fags, queers and fudgepackers and he joined in with them.
When I came out to him, it was really because of an argument we were having. Because of his associating with the two boys back in that time, he and I were beginning to grow apart, and his new-found homophobia wasn't helping anything either.
So when he and I were walking from a restaurant on a Saturday back at this time, he was going on and on about girls and I was nodding my head in the right places, then he started on how I needed to get a girl. Dana hadn't yet told him that I was gay and given that when I told her was around the time that Austyn was starting on his homophobic stage, I asked her not to say anything to him and she agreed not to.
So when Austyn started talking about setting me up with a girl, I tried to refuse and change the subject. I told him that I wasn't interested in anyone at the time and he said what I hoped I'd never hear him say to me. He asked if I was some kind of fagot or something and by this time we were standing by a telephone pole. I began crying and he told me that he wasn't going to be around a friend who was a fag and he walked away. I eventually got my crying under control and I just wanted to go home at that point and not have to deal with him.
When my parents, Zack and Dana found out after I told them and let them know that I'd stay away from him if that's how he felt, they'd have none of it. They called his parents and told them what happened and the next day, Austyn and his parents came over and they sat him before us and right across from me. They spoke harshly to him and he spoke back in a loud voice.
Eventually though, his dad bent down and put his face just inches away from Austyn's own and began speaking.
"He's your friend, you've known him since you guys were little and no son of mine is going to be a bigot of any kind, especially not an antigay bigot. Sure, it's trendy to look at hate for others as a virtue today, but not in my house. Do you understand me Austyn Jones!"
There was a silence and then Austyn got up and came over to me. He broke down and apologized then put his arms around me. I hugged him back and after we got our crying under control, his parents apologized for his actions, but I stopped them and along with him, we both reminded them that it was Austyn who was doing wrong, not them. In the coming days, Austyn told me that he wanted to stop hanging with the boys he was with if they couldn't stop gaybashing. When he told them to stop with the antigay crap later that particular week, they called him a fag lover and after that, it was the end of that less than positive relationship. Austyn also apologized to Dana and when he was over at my house the next weekend, he sat down and apologized to my parents and to Zack and I once again and he promised that he'd never treat me or them like that ever again.
So yeah, it was only a day that I seem to have lost Austyn's friendship until his parents brought him over the next day after we returned from church, but it felt like years and I was afraid that I'd never see him again, as he was a really good friend.
I sat on a bench thinking about all of this and I felt a feeling of complete gratitude and amazement at all that I had. I thought about how grateful I was to have the parents, brother and friends I had. I knew that some of the GLBT youth among us weren't so fortunate.
After clearing my head, I called Dana, then Austyn and they agreed to go with me. I told them were I was and they agreed to meet me at the bench I was at. I then closed my phone and waited while listening to music. I was listening to the group Apocalyptica and at the moment, I was listening to their album "Worlds Collide" which was my favorite of theirs. Finally, I saw my friends coming and I stopped the music and removed my earbuds. I stood up and walked towards them.
"Hey guys!" I yelled happily and we all three shared a hug.
They greeted me and we began walking. After a few minutes of talking about how our morning had been going so far, we began talking about what we wanted to do after going to the music store. We knew we wanted to get something to eat out, but we just had to decide where.
"There's a new place that just opened near the store," Dana said. "They have seafood, but other things if you don't want that."
"I haven't had any good seafood for a while," I said.
"Neither have I," Austyn said. "What do you guys think?"
"I'd enjoy trying it," Dana said.
"So would I," I replied.
Once agreed, we began walking again.
Author's Notes
I hoped everyone enjoyed the more lighter moments of that chapter and that everyone likes this story as well as it progresses. I'll have many plans for the storyline and as usual with my stories, sex won't figure in to it for a few chapters, but when it does, it'll be good.
If anyone wants to contact me about the story, I can be reached at vector18@msn.com.
So everyone have a good evening, and I'll see everyone in Chapter 2.