The Fighter

Chapter 1

*Sorry if there are some slight misunderstandings or typos, I'm trying my best to perfect my writing and make it clear and easy to follow. Leaving feedback would be great. And by the way, this is a fan fiction, which means I have complete control on what goes on in the story. It's complete fiction.I think  it's kind of silly that I have to tell people that, but I'll always get those loads of Elounor shippers saying "Louis isn't gay!!1!1!" Well shit he's gay in the fanfic. Without further ado, enjoy (:*

Louis POV-

I threw my phone at the wall in frustration. The plastic phone made a loud noise as it fell onto the hardwood.  I was so angry. I just couldn't take it anymore. But I was scared, what would dad do? He was so against them....

I do recall a time in my life where my dad has been a complete jerk about the whole situation.

-

I was about 8 or 9 years old. My father and I were at the mall with my sisters and I to get some school clothes for next year. We spent most of our strict budget at Kohl's, which was relatively cheaper than most of the other department stores that are known for ludicrous prices for such bland material. 

As we walked over to the shoe section, we saw two men. They were holding hands. It doesn't bother me at all, but my father thinks the best orientation for me would be straight. I started to look at the decently large shoe selection, trying on shoes to see if they would fit. I'm not a real picky guy; and I never was. 

After I found a good pair of shoes, I placed them into the cart. The two men that had been holding hands earlier came up by us, with big smiles, which made me pretty happy too. I love smiles.

"Aw, what adorable children you have!" the taller one complimented. I smiled at the man and his boyfriend, as well did my my sisters, but my dad looked like he was about as red as a tomato.

"I don't need you raping my boy you sick ass homophobes!" he screeched out. The man who complimented us started to cry. I didn't understand why he did that. But now as I get older and older, almost 17, I can pretty much understand the concept of homophobia. I remember the man's boyfriend getting really angry. I understand their pain.

-

I picked up my phone again. Throwing it against the wall again, I let out a muffled sigh. I didn't really know how I was going to tell my dad that I was gay. I knew my mom didn't mind, but I don't know if I want to live with being disowned by my father.

I could feel my frustration build. My head was spinning, my heart was racing, and I've never felt so confused in my life. It's so painful living in this society. I mean it's not like it's the 1800's. Gay, bisexual, lesbian, pansexual, and any other people deserve rights given to them. They shouldn't have to go through 500 pieces of papers to get married, or move to another state for it to be legal. I really hate the world. I'm slowly giving up on.

I think about self harm again, but I just remembered how I would get called a freak or "emo attention seeker" by my dad like he did the first time. I picked up my phone and threw it at the wall again, trying to push my mind away from the suicidal thoughts and urges to start something that could turn out really bad. The ring of the hardwood when the phone hit it calmed me down, but I was still really frustrated, and I don't think anything right now could have taken my frustration away.

I picked up the now cracked phone and placed it on my dresser. With one swift motion I took of my shirt and then pants, and went to bed. Maybe that would give me a better idea of how to come out. I'm sick of being in the closet.