Nostalgia (BoyxBoy)

Nostalgia {1}

2008

Poverty was high these days. Do you wanna know why? Well, because everyone was "different".

Most people today weren't homeless because of their lack of education, but because of their lack in "normality".

That's right. Twenty percent of today's poverty make up of people from the LGBT community.

And I was one of them.

But being gay wasn't necessarily the reason behind me living on my own.

Of course that was part of it, but it wasn't the main reason.

My parents, or the people who brought me into this world, were....not normal parents.

My dad did drugs and he was an alcoholic. My mom, she wasn't the best closed off mom out there.

She was a whore, is what I'm trying to say.

The cycle went on and on: my dad did his daily dose of drugs, drunk some alcohol, beat the shit out of me, and sleep.

My mom would wake up, attempt to make me breakfast, but failed miserably, go to "work" at eleven at night, come home in the morning.

She didn't think that I knew what she was doing. I knew she was a prostitute. She knew she was one. My dad even knew he was one. But did they care about my well being?

Of course not.

I was a burden to them and they let me know it. I would go days without food or water. They wouldn't even let me clean myself.

Other times, I wasn't even awake to think of the hunger and thirst. The belts, the chains, the whips, it was all horrible. The bruises and scars I endured before I was even ten.

Needless to say, I did go to school, and I got somewhat of an education.

That is, until the seventh grade.

I did about two or three months of learning some new stuff until I couldn't take it anymore.

I knew what I was. I knew who I liked.

I had my first boyfriend. It wasn't love or anything, since I was twelve. It was just infatuation.

He was nice to me, when no one else was. He knew about my parents. He offered to let me stay over sometimes. He held my hand when no one would even tap me.

I remember when he walked me home that day. We were laughing and talking about what happened at lunch.

At the end of my driveway, that's when all things came crashing down.

He kissed me. On my lips. I obviously kissed back, since I liked him.

He smiled at me and left. I was happy for the first time in years. I remember walking in my house and being hit across the face with a glass bottle.

"So you're a faggot. I should've known. You always walked and talked different from most boys your age. It's your mother's fault. She was picked up by a lesbian once and they had their lesbian sex. I bet they passed the fag genes on. You know I'm not even your real father."

I gapped at my fath- the man in front of me. He-he saw us! He saw me kiss a boy, my boyfriend. He called me something that I wasn't.

"You know. I never really liked you. I hate you, actually. You're nothing but trash and I hate your mother. She hates you too. It's just a house full of hate. You should just leave. Never come back. Go die in a hole somewhere. We don't need you. Go get whatever you need and leave you little cock sucker."