Confessions of a Twink [Ziam]

Chapter 1: The Beginning

September 29th, 2017 (Friday)

          I open the front door of my house and take a step in. I make an attempt to close it gently, but the draught makes it slam shut; that's it for being quiet. How's that whenever I try to do something, it never works? I take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling, hoping my parents are focused on something more interesting than my lack of adroitness. Being sneaky has never been my thing. I got used to it, though. I take off my snapback trying not to look at myself in the mirror thats's hanging on the wall, it sure wouldn't be a nice view. It's not my face itself, it's that I don't want to see how pathetic I'm looking right now.

Today was really hard and as soon as I'd left school, I turned on my highest speed. I didn't want anybody catch me looking like a complete whimp, so I ran all the way home, unable to stop the tears, and I wouldn't be surprised if my face was now red like a beetroot. I can still feel how swollen my eyelids are and they actually start to prick a bit.

I didn't hear my parents call for me, so I guess they're busy with something else. I take off my shoes and slowly move towards the living room where, fortunately, mom and dad are watching television. That's one good thing for today, they won't get to see me cry again. Since the staircase is in a hallway, I can go to my room unnoticed. I tiptoe upstairs, then straight to my room where I manage to close the door quietly.

          I hate it. I honestly hate how I come home crying almost every day. I'm not the kind of person who hides feelings from their beloved ones. If I did that, I'm pretty sure it'd kill me. On the other hand, I feel bad for putting my family in a position where they want to help me so bad, yet they just can't. I'm not talking about psychical help because this is something I get from them all the time; I think that's why I'm still standing on the ground. Beside that, all they can do is just watch me burst into tears every other hour. It's a good thing, though. I wouldn't even let them if they tried to take care of my shit, they have their own problems to focus on.

My morbid sensitivity didn't come just like that, nor was I born with it. Ever since I turned seven, I've been getting slammed on by kids, not only my age. They've always had their own reasons; one would laugh and call me a nerd beacuse I got an A, the other would punch me because 'I was fat' - even though I never was, that I know. All my life people would befriend me, then just leave and act like I never existed - that's happend like six times, but I was always too trusting and forgiving - my bad.

The older I got, the more serious it was. People would point at me because I liked drawing or singing, beat me up because I was gay. Funny they knew it before me. Guys would even laugh at me because I wore glasses. I think this is actually an exaggeration, but well. The first three things have not changed as for now.

          I lock the door and sniff, throwing my bag on a bed. I really need to change the sheets. My room is the only place where I can really calm myself down. It's not only that I get to be alone - there's one thing in here that lets me clear my head. It's my laptop.

I make my way over to the desk that's placed by the window. Sitting down on a navy-blue swivel chair, I wipe my eyes to dry off the tears. I switch on my Dell laptop and sigh, waiting for it to load. I do get bullied very often, but today was the worst. Thing is, the football team tried to sexually use me. Oh, how cliché.

[FLASHBACK]

          "I'll see you on Monday?" a girl - Allison, is it? - says, smiling at me. I only nod and smile back; I'm not much of a talker when it comes to strangers.

My Italian teacher has asked me to become a tutor for this girl and being the nice boy that I am, I couldn't have disagreed. We'd spent like half an hour talking about it and that's how my free period went. Great. I leave the classroom and go over to my locker to take a few books for the next class. It's physics time, fuck me. The hall is empty, since the bell hasn't rang yet, and all I can hear is my breathing. It was for, like, twenty three seconds.