An Array of Colors

How could someone I had just met see into my soul so well? How could he interpret my drawing in seconds when my other 'friends' hadn't been able to at all? They hadn't even been real friends. None of them except Violet. I regretted having to leave her because she was the only one I'd ever really connected with, but I just couldn't take that town anymore.

I was lost, wandering through the forest where people were out to get me. They were like a pack of wolves snapping at you and just waiting to sink their teeth into your flesh. I would find a cave and use it for refuge until I realized there were wolves hiding there too. There was no escape; no clearing; no place where people didn't want to eat you alive. Figuratively of course. But being eaten alive would be quicker than this. Quicker than being tortured verbally every day of your life. That's why people die. It's not because their heart can't beat anymore. Well, it is, but it can't beat anymore because people have torn it apart and ruined it. Death always leads to other people. And people always lead to death.

Some people say my view on the world is negative, but I don't listen to them. Why should I listen to the ones who have helped make me the way I am?

They are the ones that bring me down. Without them I would be immortal; happy.

I drew another eye but it looked almost human, so I gave it a wolf face. A human in a wolf’s body. Showing the animal we really are. Showing that we, as well, rip people apart and sink our muzzles deep into their stomachs.

BEEP!

I heard the bell ring and everyone started to gather their things. I’d requested this period twice in a row, so I just remained in my seat. I noticed that Cobalt didn’t move either.

“Do you have this class first and second period as well?” his voice pierced my veil of thoughts.

I nodded slowly. I was so socially awkward; I didn’t know what to say.

I tuned out as Mr. White went through the same process with his second class as he had with first.

“Hey look! I guess the fag’s in this class! And does he have a boyfriend now?”

I heard a guy yell in our direction.

Mr. White had left the room to do something and everyone else had fallen silent.

“I don’t even know this guy so obviously we’re not dating,” Cobalt stated as if it was clear to the dolt.

“Look, you need to realize that no one will ever love you so at least you get a good fuck out of this one. Well, that is if he’s good in bed.”

“Um, excuse me, I’m sitting right here and I am not gay.”

Lie. But I can see how much Cobalt gets tortured and I’ve only been here for less than a day. I don’t want to be forced out of here yet, but I don’t want to come out here and get abused for opening up.

“Why doesn’t your rainbow hair tell that to me?”

I silently cursed myself for being so flamboyant.

“I did it on a dare. And at my old school it was very common for guys to dye their hair. Just because I have rainbow hair doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

People were watching us like I would look at a well-contrasted painting. You don’t know which side to look at, so you keep bouncing back and forth. I guess most people would compare it to a tennis match, but I’m different.

“Yeah, ok. Just go on lying to me. But let me make it clear that I do not like liars.”

“It doesn’t really seem like you like anyone and either way I can’t win. If I continue telling the truth and saying I’m not gay you’ll assume I’m lying and pick on me and if I tell you I’m gay to get you off my back you’ll pick on me. So you aren’t making this very fair on me,” I reasoned. I knew he’d probably be mad that I was talking back though, so I didn’t count on him leaving me alone.

“Who ever said I play fair? Now have fun toying with your fuck buddy.”

How thickheaded can a guy be? I don’t just go fucking any guy that I meet after only knowing them for a day. But of course gay people are all whores who love rainbow, wear tight jeans and have a lisp. But I don’t have a lisp and I’m a virgin although I can admit to the loving rainbow and wearing tight jeans…But Cobalt doesn’t even come across as stereotypically gay so that’s obviously not true. Along with the other tons of gay people that aren’t the stereotypic model…

“Are you really not gay?” I heard a voice in my ear.

I shook my head no. He was gay as well so he knew what I’d have to go through; he most likely wouldn’t sell me out.

But one thing I learned applies to every single place I’ve been:

You can never trust anyone.