Homophobia

I had never seen so many fucking rainbows in the span I had been living this thing called life. Rainbow arm warmers, rainbow splattered shoes, rainbow-fucking bedsheets for gods sake. It was like a child took color and just threw it all over the room. And lo and behold, his parents say he's not gay, just expressive. Shit, I'd be onto my kid if he was anything like Zack was! Not to mention he didn't hang around girls...just the guys.

Ever since we met in kindergarten, I always knew there was something a little different about him. He skipped, wore his moms necklaces and bracelets, and when I'd come over, he didn't want to play trucks. He wanted to apply makeup all over his pale little face.

I was confused at first, thinking maybe he thought he was the opposite gender. But he didn't wear girl clothes or try to talk like a girl did...

It all unraveled that day we were on the playground in second grade, hiding under the slide and messing around in the dirt. In the middle of one of my speeches about a mean teacher, Zack just leaned in and kissed me, pulling away with a shit-eating grin.

My jaw could have unhinged from my face at that very moment, I was so surprised. And he acted so nonchalant about it, like it was nothing.

"Wh..what was that?" I stuttered, running a sleeve over my lips.

"What was what?" he queried, tilting his head to the side and blinking innocently. "It's called a kiss, don't tell me you've never heard of it."

All the things in my brain were jumbled up and running amok, not wanting to make any sense to me. "Boys aren't supposed to kiss boys." I corrected, knowing my mom had told me so some time ago. "They only kiss girls, it's not right..." .....Right?

He only looked as shocked as me, flipping his long bangs away from his eyes, which were as wide as saucers. "Huh? Why not, it's not like it hurts anyone. I like boys. I like you, you're cute."

I just stared at him, pondering if it really would affect anybody else. It surely couldn't harm anything, it was just liking someone. Coming to my conclusion that this little thing he had for me was ok, I pat his shoulder and chuckled. "Well, you too."

His cheeks turned red like they were on fire, and he played with the edge of his rainbow belt. The ball rang and we hurried back to our class.

Maybe I was right about it not hurting anyone else..but it did hurt him. Nobody knew my secret because I hid it so well, only saving and savoring each moment I had with Zack when we were alone. Unfortunately, him being the way he was, everybody came to realize it sooner or later.

And lets just say it didn't go over well with our peers. He'd come to my house after school and have a bloody nose, saying he fell on the way over. I knew better, that people were beating him up for his sexual orientation. He didn't do a good job of lying to me.

Ninth grade, the day we stepped foot in the high school building was the year everything went downhill. Zack was wearing eyeliner, putting on anything but color, trying to disguise who he was, and worst of all, avoiding me. But it was to late, because everybody already knew the real him, still continuously pounding him to a bloody pulp for it.

Third semester in, I was wondering down the hallways, trying to look for him. I didn't care that I was skipping class, the only thing that mattered is that he hadn't shown up to that specific period, and I knew he was in trouble.

I only wished I wasn't right, because as I rounded a corner, there were two seniors beating my boyfriend to the ground, spitting on him and smashing his face into the tile repeatedly.

Yelling for them to stop, I was relieved when they fled in fear of being caught by a teacher or any staff that might be close by. I ran over to Zacks limp body, which was struggling to take a breath. His eyes were bruised and black, teeth knocked right out of his gums, and nose going toward the wrong side of his face.

I sobbed and held him, screaming for somebody, anybody to come and save him. I was to late. They had basically crushed his ribs and shattered bones, and now he was dead as I gripped him tight.

It was then that I discovered what homophobia could really do to people, crush their soul and sometimes their bodies. It was a form of victimization for somebody different, even if they did no wrong. It was looked down upon by society, by those who just couldn'tbring themselves to understand that love is not based on boys to girls, but to anybody who could see something in someone that no one else could.

He was the boy that tragically lost his life because he, at one point in time, wasn't afraid to be who he really was, not letting anyone elses opinions matter...