Day before yesterday. 5/20.

By the end of the school day I was crawled up in a ball crying in my favorite corner and it was all his fault. Let me explain.

First things first I'm lesbian.

So on this day I went to school just like any other boring teacher-filled school day. Everything was going great till third period. P.E. isn't my best sport and it was a really hot day. [We're doing the softball unit.] So I started to get a little hot and I really didn't want to be fucked with. It turned out fourth and fifth period were fine too.

The last class of my school day is my elective. I'm an aid for the art teacher. There was nothing for me to do so I started writing some slam poetry. (I'm not very good but I want to get better so I try to slam as often as possible.) I started writing about how my parents don't know I'm lesbian (gay if you will). When I had finished I had a group of girls standing around my desk to hear snatches of me poetry. When I finally looked up and saw them all there I went quiet. I'm sort of shy when it comes to something I'm not very good at. They all insisted that I slam it for them. So I did. Of course there was unwanted ears listening to me try to pour my heart out with words. When I finished they asked me what it was about. So I told them it was about how I want to tell my parents, but I can't. "Ohh" they all said in unison.

Then a boy about 2/3 my size and a year younger than me told me this. "I'm going to find your parents and tell them. Being gay is immoral. It's wrong, sick, and disgusting. You need to stop. I know that it's just a rebel stunt to get attention." That's when I got pissed and I started to loose control of myself.

So I retaliated... "You think I can stop? You don't know anything you mother-fucker! If I could change I would. You have no IDEA the shit I already get from my parents!" I don't know if it was a good or bad thing that the teacher Mrs. Moretti was there.

She interjected "Whats going on here?"

SO I sort of screamed at her "Ask him!"

He continued to say "Being gay is wrong and I told her so." At this point I was about in tears so I ask to let myself outside. For the next few minuets I was outside beating my fists against a smooth wall, trying to break my knuckles and calm down. The flow of tears didn't break. Not even when I heard the bell to go home ring. My girlfriend eventually found me. By then I wasn't really crying just sort of dry sobbing. She held me and kissed my hands where they had already started to bruise. I was fifteen minuets late for my mom to pick me up trying to get my makeup looking adequate because I couldn't find a story to explain the crying fast enough. Luckily that was the most exciting thing that day.