Stories which the walls hear

Victim No. 3

Have you ever been judged for the way you talk? Have you ever judged a person just because they were different? Oh, come on now, don't be shy, I know you have, as have everyone else. Its like second nature isn't it? Just because that girl is fat she should be treated differently or only as that guy has a different taste in clothes, he isn't normal. Every body does it, probably not even realising they did sometimes I think its OK, only human behavior right?
Wrong.
So here's another story. Its about something that will make your insides curl. And no its not about me at all, its about a guy who simply didn't give a shit.

(Victim's P.O.V)
Just like every other day the words are coming in and flowing right out of my ears, I try to not let it affect me at all but I wonder just how long will I be able to go on. I mean, its not like their words hurt me enough to make me wanna kill myself or anything, they however do manage to ruin each day of my life. My life was not always so miserable, you know? I used to be this kid wrapped up in my own fantasy, until reality came in and bit me in the ass. 

I guess it all started in 6th grade, when some people decided that acting a bit different was a whole lot like being gay. Thus it all began, the godforsaken words that made me remind myself that I was different, even though I wasn't or was I?

I have been trying to get past it, believe me, I've tried with all my might, but they just keep doing it. The words always weren't that bad you know? They just started with calling my Karan Johar, going on till now, where they have the audacity to call me a fag. I mean what the hell! Who are they to judge my sexual preference just on the basis of the fact that I behaved a bit differently? Who made them the kings? Who the fuck gave them the right to question my way of life? These are a few questions I ask myself each day, bottling all of it inside. The dustbin inside my head is almost full, I wonder how many more words can I take until it bursts open. 

My only salvation is the fact that even though I'm judged by many people, there are still some friends who have my back and always probably will.
There is not a particular incident which I could describe in order to tell you my story, I don't think it works like that. My story is not made up of a time where I was at my lowest, cuz bro I never fucking bowed down. No, my story is formed of all the words, those godforsaken words, merged together just there to break my armour. Our pasts are made up of small fragments of memories build up together in the best of the moments. That's what my story is, the fact that all of these things, they didn't start hurting just because they were said, they hurt because they were said one two many times.
I'm coping with it, if that's what people are supposed to do, I'm trying to move on. I've decided to erase my past from my present and prolong my present to my future. I've also learnt a lesson, cuz that's what life is, right? Its either beautiful memories or some hard lessons. This lesson teaches me to be strong, it teaches my to build up my walls so high that their words may never haunt me again. I'm still growing up though, life is still going on, maybe in the future I would be able to look them in the eyes and say, this is where I am, where are you?
Hey guys I'm back again. This story is about my friend, and like all the other ones here it happened. Considering that I have his consent, I am revealing to you his name, it's Aditya Rai. To most of you it might mean nothing, but to some, you know who I am talking about, don't you? After all it all started at the same school. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
~theloner