Dear Diary,
I've been to too many funerals this year.
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Dear Diary,
I'm going steady and, mostly, he's awesome. Just a bit too rock and roll. So far, he's bumped off three of my classmates. God, please have mercy on my soul. They were only seventeen, they still had room to grow. And, they could have turned out good but I guess now we'll never know.
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I'm curled up in the front seat of Lotor's car. He left to see if the coast is clear. I jump as the door opens and relax only slightly when I see it's Lotor. He sits next to me and digs into the inside pocket of his coat. He pulls out two cigarettes and a lighter. I take the proffered items and flick open the lighter. I stare at the flame for a moment before closing my hand over it. I almost immediately cry out in shock. Lotor grabs my hand. There's a red mark on my palm. He grabs one of the cigarettes and lights it on my hand. I let out a wail.
"Ich Lüge bullets! I'm such an idiot!" Lotor drags on his cigarette as the school buses start to pull in. I glare sullenly at him and light mine, taking a drag. Finally he sighs.
"Look, you believed it because you wanted to believe it. Your true feelings were too... gross and icky for you to face." I glare at him.
"I did not want them dead!" He raises an eyebrow at me.
"Did too."
"Did not!"
"Did too."
"Did not." He sighs and puts a hand over my mouth.
"Look, did they make you cry?" I narrow my eyes. "Did they?" I nod. "And can they make you cry now?" I slowly shake my head. He takes his hand away, a self-satisfied look on his face. I glare.
"No, but you can." He shakes his head, amused.
"Just wait until you see the good that comes of this." I shake my head.
"No good could possibly come from this." He smiles and presses a quick kiss against my forehead.
"Call me an optimist."
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Mr. Balmera stands over an open coffin that holds the body of Rax Balmera.
"If there's any way you can hear me, Rax, buddy, I don't care that you really were some pansy. You're my flesh-and-blood. You made me proud. I love my homosexual son. My son's gay and I love him!" There's a smattering of applause at that. I lean closer to Lotor and whisper to him.
"Your son's dead and you love him." He snorts.
"How do you think he would react to a son with a limp wrist and a pulse?" I softly giggle at that. I look up to see Shay Balmera looking at me, wearing a familiar looking knitted jumper and her face covered in tears. I feel the smile slip from my face, replaced by a nauseated grimace and guilt gnawing at my gut.
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We're curled up on my bed, a bottle of Vodka between us. Lotor suddenly sniffs the air, making me raise an eyebrow at him.
"What is that? That smell in the air- is that tolerance? Inclusion, love, how often can you say it's a good day to live in Sherwood, Ohio! You're welcome town!" I glare at him and swat at his arm.
