SONG FICS!!

Quiet (Book Of Mormon)

*Have you ever wondered, well I have, about how when I say "Say red!" For example, there's no way of knowing if red means the same thing in your head that red means in my head when someone says red

Fifteen year old Conner McKinley stared at himself a the fully body Mirror in his bedroom that hung on the back of the door. Running his fingers through his soft red hair, he huffed out a deep sigh. What was so different about him? Why did he get bullied so much? Why did his father look at him like he was some ungodly being? Why did his mother just listen to his father say the things he said and then just look at him with a shrug and a small sad smile? Why did no one care about he felt? What he was going through? What made him so different than his brothers and sisters?

*And if we are traveling at almost the speed of light, and we're holding a light, that light will still travel away from us at the full speed of light, which seems right in a way,*

Sure, He had different interests... He liked different music and different shows... He liked to dance instead of play sports... He liked Broadway instead of Country or pop music. But he was a human being just like every other. He wasn't different. No. He was different. He was a lot different. Thinking about it now, he knew he was... He was in what could only be construed as Love with Steve Blade. Another boy. And that was wrong... Right?

*What I'm trying to say, I'm not sure. But I wonder if inside my head I'm not just a bit different from some of my friend. These answers that come into my mind unbidden, these stories delivered to me fully written.*

All of the boys he knew were getting girlfriends and talking about cute girls and All of that but... But he didn't have any interest in girls. Only boys. And he didn't quite understand it but who knew one thing... It was supposedly a one way ticket to hell. Maybe that's why his parents sent him away to that awful therapy... And Made sure he went to Church for every service, no matter if he was sick or had other things he had to do. Maybe that's why they were always arguing... Maybe that's why they treated him differently than everyone else. He knew it was why he had hell dreams. Every. Single. Night. Of his life for the past four years and, though he didn't know at the time... The next five.

*And When Everyone shouts like they seem to like shouting, The noise in my head is incredibly loud and I just wish they stop. My dad and my mom. And the telly. And the stories would stop for just once!*