Acceptance.

Party.

I remember my first party during freshmen year. It was horrible.

The endless amounts of people grinding against me before I became a 'whore'.

The boys attempting to run their fingers up my thigh. They were the guilty ones.

The girls kissing my chest while I cheered and danced. They were the guilty ones.

I was a whore because I finally labelled what I felt and I finally accepted what had been done but I had to take the blame away from them. They are no different from me.
They are just as guilty.

I had enjoyed my freshmen year before it came back to bite me.

Being unique was what cut everything for me.

Homophobic bastards are the real problem here.

Not me.

There's no such thing as being homophobic, They're just hateful cunts.

The point that I am trying to make here is after I "paid" that guy after school, He invited me to a party.

He called me baby and told me that the way I fucked him was amazing. A few minutes later, he left.

When I decided to leave, I had been pushed me against the school wall. The air had been knocked out of my lungs.

The person who had pushed me began to unbuckle their belt and rub up my thighs. "You like to be a nasty slut, huh?" He said into my ear while pulling his pants down and whipping out his dick.

"Then you'll take whatever dick that you can get." He answered the question before I could speak. I was frozen with fear. I was terrified.

I did not want that. I did what I knew would work. I kneed him and watched the man fall before kicking the shit out of him. I watched him cry and try to stop me. I stopped when I knew that I had gone too far but how does one go too far when a person tries to hurt them?

I tried to kill him but getting free was enough to make me happy.

Some people are sick.

What would have happened if I stayed there? I, The school's outcast, would have been raped, by Josiah Keegan, the head cheerleader's brother.

And it would've been my fault.