My eyes trailed up to the ceiling of my room.
I decided on sketching a woman. Her dark, cold face didn’t look anything like mine, but I felt a connection towards her. I was drawing for around thirty minutes, when I was interrupted.
“Brennan, let’s go,” Tammy said, slamming her fists on my door. Her stringy hair encircled her pimply face, and I stood up from my bed. I got my backpack, looked in the mirror one last time, and left with Tammy. My bruised eye was almost completely black.
“Suck it up cupcake and stop feeling bad for yourself. Everyone gets punched in the face. Learn to live it.” Tammy partially joked as we walked out to Julia’s car. Julia drove us to school, and since Tammy’s three grades ahead of me, she’s in the high school building, and I went to the elementary building in Merriweather Public School.
I walked in the large building packed with familiar faces. Of course, I was just another one of them in the sea of people. I hardly know any of them, and I don’t even think any of them bother to glance at me. But that’s all good, because I don’t really need their approval. It reminds me, though, it made me feel bad when I saw one of the girls from Science, Lacy. She was at Target, looking at those little, ugly black shoes that your mom makes you get, and I saw her when I was going to pick up some eggs for Julia.
“Oh, Lacy, hey. How’s it going?” I had asked. She just looked at me with those blank, public pool water eyes, and the girl didn’t have eyebrows, I mean, I felt bad.
“Um..I don’t talk to strangers,” was all she said, then she pursed her lips, and walked away. You know, that made me feel real bad about myself. Lacy was one of those weird girls in your mandatory classes who flosses with her hair, and constantly sucks on her heart shaped necklace. She always pulls out this little cheap-looking phone with sparkles and when you opened it, there’d be these little chintzy pans of gloss and weird makeup. She’d always douse her non-existent lips in that weird, gelatin glossy stuff. Makeup’s weird, man. Nothing’s wrong with having non-existent lips, but that’s what she’s got.
And, I couldn’t even get a hello from that girl. It made me feel like less of who I thought I was in the end.
I kept my head down as I walked to my first class, but I was stopped short as soon as I entered the hall, which was beginning to clear up, which worried me. Bryson Newberry and his little gang of sixth graders stepped in front of me.
“Yo, what happened to your eye?” Bryson sneered.
“Nothing, let me past, please.” The wall of kids blocked me from taking another step.
“Your eyes look a little uneven. We can help you with that.” Bryson smirked.
“You wanna know what’s uneven? Your mom’s melons last night,” I muttered. I was feeling especially angry at the time, which is irrational, I know.
“What was that?”
Bryson and his tiny eyes stepped toward me, and without any hesitation, his leathery fist scraped across my other eye.
A single drip of moisture fell from my eye, and they saw it. “The baby’s crying! Not so smart now, huh, b****?!” Bryson laughed. His swearing needed work.
The rest of his posse guffawed. I was knocked down; this time my stomach was kicked in. The laughter went on and on. I tried getting up, but I was, again, shoved down on the dirty floor.
My sketch book fell out of my backpack, and I reached to grab it, but Kobe Dennis’s shoe slammed down on my fingers. I winced, and my arms immediately shot back to my side.
“Give it to me!”
“Let’s see what the ar-TEEST has been working on, huh?!” Bryson said sardonically.
They flipped through the cream-coloured pages, and stopped at one page.
“Oh, jesus, is this a diary?” Kobe snickered. I wrote in the beginning of the book. And it was extremely personal. I scrambled up, but his buddies held me against the wall, slamming my back against the stone.
“Dear Journal,” Bryson mocked, “I have this confession. There’s this kid in class named Nick Anderson. I feel like this is crazy, but I can’t admit this to myself, then how am I going to tell anyone I even remotely trust in the future? I shouldn’t feel guilty about writing this here, this is my book, and no one has to see this anyway. I might have feelings for him. My parents hate behavior like that. But I feel like it’s who I am. I never really liked girls that way before!” Bryson was laughing hysterically. I felt like I’d faint and stop breathing.

“He’s gay!” Neil screamed.
“Ew! I don’t wanna hold him back now!” Kobe let go of me for a few seconds, and I dropped to the ground, frantically trying to crawl to Bryson. Neil grabbed my shirt, and pulled me back up.
“I’ll hold the fruit, you wuss,” he said as he grabbed my waist, and constrained me.
“And for the grand finale!” Bryson’s smile widened.
“Stop it!” I whimpered loudly. Fresh tears brimmed my eyes.
Bryson’s hands ran through the pages of my book, and tore the journal entry, and stuffed it in his pocket. He didn’t stop there.
His fingers tore the pages of my sketch book with all the drawings I’ve had since I was nine. The whole thing flashes in front of my eyes like a red nightmare, and I couldn’t scream. Neil. had his hands around my mouth. The pages of my drawings fell around us like snow. He shred the whole book five minutes after, and I was completely washed out from tears. I remember buying that pretty leather-bound book three years ago with the money I earned from job around the neighborhood. I walked to the bookstore, and found the perfect leather sketch book, and all the memories I poured into it were torn from my soul.
“Please let me go,” I choked.
“We’re giving this to your parents.” Bryson held out my writing in my face. I tried snatching it from him, but he slapped my already burning face.
“Please,” I begged, “don’t.”
“It’s what you get for talking smart,” Neil scoffed.
“I like it when you beg. Do it on your knees.” Bryson flashed me a toothy grin.
I sobbed, but no tears came. The boys let go of me, and I crouched on my knees, my bruised eyes red.
“Please, don’t tell my parents,” I said shakily.
“Don’t think you can get away with it that easily. You tell anyone about our little encounter, the word’s out! Good thing I live on your street,” Bryson chuckled.
“No,” I whispered. They boys let me go, and they ran off. I was left on the white floor, with my memories scattered around me like dust.
The bell rang, and the flood of kids came out. I stood up, and I reached down to pick up the first piece, which was half of the woman I drew that morning. I put it in my pocket. Most of the papers were too small to keep.
“Woah, what is all this?” A willowy brunette teacher came up to me. She was one of the less pretty teachers, but she had a nice figure. “You’re blocking the hallway, Mister.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just--” I didn’t finish.
“What? Are you okay?” She looked at me a little harder. “What happened to your eyes? Did someone hurt you?”
I looked down. “No, it’s good. I’m good, just a cousin, you know how rough they can be.” I gave her a little smile.
“Well, alright. I’ll help with the mess,” she bent down and picked up a few papers.
“What happened?” she asked again.
“Just a bunch of...junk in my backpack slipped out. Wasn’t looking.” I kept the answer straight and short. She asked a lot of questions after, and eventually we finished cleaning it up. She smiled at me, told me to hurry to class, then walked away. I sighed, and collected all of the piles of paper with my arms, then dumped it in the big trash bin. The white pile lay there in a heap, and I couldn’t help but sit against the wall and cry. I was so tired.
I hid in the bathroom, which made me feel really guilty. As I walked home, I walked past a little red bridge, and it was really cute. I took a walk down the little trail that went along the river, and it was purely sublime. It was too cold for any type of life to be brewing, but you could always hear the water. You really could. And it was a beautiful type of rustling roar.

I realized the time, and hurried home. Gary’s car was parked in the driveway, which confused me. He wasn’t supposed to be home for a couple hours.
“Brennan, get in here now.” I heard Julia’s voice. I stepped in the living room, and she sat there, with Gary on the other side of the couch.
“Look at you!” Julia shrieked, “one more black eye, and a busted face. What is going on?!”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t really know what I was apologizing for.
“A few boys came earlier today. They gave us this.” Gary held up the scribbles in grey. My stomach churned, and I felt sick.
“I’m sorry, it’s not true!” I pleaded.
“It is, isn’t it! We want nothing to do with the same sex marriage!No one in this family supports this. Those boys were right to tell us!” Julia crossed her arms.
“I’m not marrying anyone!” my voice cracked,” I’ll like girls.”
“But you really don’t, do you? I can’t believe I raised a son for eleven years, and he’s this way!” Gary yelled.
“Twelve.” It was a whisper.
“Excuse me?!” Gary was furious.
“Today, I turn twelve,” I said softly.
“It doesn’t matter!” Julia snapped. I was taken back.
“You want to be homosexual, but not in this blessed house! Go upstairs. We need to figure out what to do,” Gary finished.
I stood there, in utter shock.
“Go!” Julia snapped.
I ran upstairs, every stride killing me. I tore through my closet, and jammed my hands on the wall. Did I deserve this?

I was sketching a figure on my desk when someone knocked on my door. I glanced at the clock. It’d been a few hours since the argument with my parents, and I was finally beginning to cool off. I turned around, and Julia walked in.
“You need to listen to us, Brennan,” Julia said, and Gary trailed in my room after her. Someone else was behind him. It was Grace, a girl from my school. I didn’t see her often, and she was a little bit creepy.
“What’s she doing here?” I was so confused. What was going on?
“We need you to prove to us that you’ll be the way you were made. You were made to marry a woman, and we need you to do that in the future,” Gary stared at me.
Grace smiled, and she was still missing a few teeth, which kind of irked me.
“What? Mom, what’s going on?” I frantically looked at Julia. She nodded.
“Kiss her, Brennan.”
“This is sick! Why are you doing this?” my face pinched up, and I felt like I was going to vomit.
Grace’s smile changed to a sad state of appearance, and she left the room, crying.
“I ask you for one simple thing, and you disobey me!” Julia never yelled louder than now.
“Our minds are made up now!” Julia’s fists clenched. “We are taking you to a new home. Gary and I won’t care where you live, and we certainly won’t care if you regret your decision!” Julia raged.
“Mom. You need to stop this. You’re scaring me.”
“I am not your mother anymore!” Julia pointed at me with furious angst.
She tore through the room, and they both left.
I grabbed everything I had, and stuffed it in my suitcase I used when we all took a family vacation to Hawaii. I couldn’t live this way. I felt so ashamed. I am not your mother anymore. I ran down the stairs, and didn’t see either of them. Probably in the living room for all I cared.
As I walked down the frozen road, I looked up at the gray sky. I stuffed my earbuds in, and played my favorite song. My eyes were a never-ending river, and my stomach was screaming with nervousness. The sweet sounds played in my ears, and I walked to the little red bridge near the house I once lived in. The water was calm and deep, and I dug in my pocket and pulled out the picture of the woman I drew that morning. I wet my finger and drew a smiling mouth over her frowning, dark lips. She was just like me now.
I leaned against the railing of the bridge, and stared at the torn drawing. My gaze rested on the cool green of water, and I imagined what it would be like to leave. Just now. I hoisted myself up on the railing, and sat on the thin line of red. My feet dangled along the windswept water. No one would miss me. I don’t want to be here. Maybe the next will be better. Maybe they’ll accept me then.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I floated down. Down. Down. The wind nipped my red ears, and I hit the water. It was warm, and I opened my eyes. The water was clear enough, and the bottom of the river was too deep to see. The music was still playing in my ears as I held my breath. I held the drawing out in front of me as I let myself go. The light got darker, but I could still see the picture.
The dark eyes reminded me of the night I’d never gaze at again. The tears tracing her eyes was the rain I’d never feel at my fingertips. And the pencil marks were the things I’d never make again. The paper became wet crumbles in my hands, and they all drifted off on their separate ways. Everything was crumbling.
My chest was burning so awfully.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Boy, do I hate funerals.