Conversion Academy

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My mom kept telling me to get new glasses. Maybe I should have listened to her. Maybe then I would've seen this coming.

Aw, who am I kidding? My closet wasn't big enough to hold me for this long.

And so it happened. My parents came home early and I didn't hear them because I was in an intense make out session with another boy. Then, ta-da, mom walks in and her holy little heart burst into flame at the sight of the homosexual sin that replaced her beloved son.

A week later, and here I was, being shipped off.

I looked out of the window, the car ride awkwardly tense. Everything around my parents had been awkwardly tense ever since they found out about my sexuality.

You see, my parents were good old fashioned Catholics. Mom thought piercings and tattoos were a work of the devil. Mom also thought that homosexuality was an unspeakable sin (um excuse me Ms. EatTenGallonsOfIceCreamANight, gluttony is one of the seven DEADLY sins, that's right mom, your late night snack is more sinful than my wet dreams).

After some careful consideration, they were dumping me off at Constance Academy. I didn't know much about that place other than the bad things.

From what I knew, Constance Academy was where you tossed your kid when you didn't know what else to do with them. Druggie? This is the academy for you! Alcoholic? Step right up and we'll fit you with a uniform! Troubles with the law before you're even 18? Oh boy, do we have a desk reserved for you, kiddo!

And this was where my parents were sending me. Because I like boys.

That's right, my mother carried me in her womb for nine months, birthed me, raised me all these years, and was now dropping me at the Academy for the troubled youth all because she saw my tongue in another man's mouth.

My bags were packed but I was beginning to realize that I'd left my dignity back home. This should be a fun time.

The Academy loomed into view as my dad rounded a turn. It was composed of several big brick buildings, elegant yet boring. It resided on a small campus that housed the students and offered a dining hall and recreation area.

I'd done almost no research on this place in the hopes that my parents wouldn't actually send me here. But they were convinced that it would be good for me and make me right in the head.

My dad parked on the campus and I reluctantly got out of the car, following my parents into the admissions building. I'd done my share of begging and pleading, but now I was at an awkward silence with my parents that was persistent.

Dad led us over to a desk with a woman sitting behind it, shuffling papers. She looked up at us and oh god I knew I was doomed.

She was wearing very formal clothing, all gray. She looked like she had never known real happiness and her smile was so artificial that I wanted to gag.

"We're here to sign in Killian O'Malley," dad said, gesturing me forward.

"I'll print out your schedule and get you a key to your dorm," the woman said, typing away at her computer.

A moment later she grabbed a paper as it printed out. She held it out to me and typed at her computer again before standing up and going over to a cabinet. She unlocked it and dug around, pulling out a key and a manila envelope.

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