But I'm a Guitarist!

I walked back to class, but once I saw the door, I realized how much I didn’t want to go, how many other things I would rather do than be in class right now. I wasn't going to fucking go. I didn’t want to fucking go. And so what? I was being my rebellious self.

I met Abby at my car after school. I had spent the day doing stupid, pointless things like listening to music and chain smoking--anything other than going to class.

“Hey, baby,” I said to her. “How was your day today?”

“Fine.” Her answer was short. I thought she was still mad about what had happened earlier. Maybe I could have made it up to her somehow. In some different way other than what she wants. I started to pull away from school and got onto the road leading to my house. “Can you slow down a bit?” she asked. She must have been feeling carsick so I slowed down a considerable amount, letting the car behind me pass. The rest of the trip to my house was relatively silent.

When we finally got to my house, about fifteen minutes later than usual, there was an odd amount of cars there. One of those cars looked like Todd’s, another one belonged to my father, although he should have still been at work. Then there were two other cars I didn’t recognize. I looked at Abby but she didn’t look surprised at all. Maybe she thought that I invited more than her over tonight.

I walked in the door, Abby trailing behind me, and called out to my mother. “Mom, we’re home!”

“We’re in the living room, honey!” she responded quickly. Abby and I walked don the hall and were met with many different faces. The first was of a woman, one I had never met before, she wore a full pink outfit with a skirt and high heels. Another was my mother, and beside her, my father, and next to him was one of my teachers. My math teacher to be exact and he fucking hated me for all I knew. And beside him was Todd, I looked back at Abby but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. Instead she went and took a seat next to Todd.

Everyone was sitting in a circle, around the only comfy chair in the living room, besides the couch.

“What’s going on?” I asked cautiously and then a more specific question hit me. “Who died?!”

The lady in front of me smiled, as if reassuring me of something. “Hello Frank, my name Ms. Mackenzie, it’s okay, no one died. You’re family and friends here just wanted to have a little chat with you. Would you like to take a seat? You’d be more comfortable sitting down, I think.”

I walked over to the only chair that wasn’t occupied. Everyone’s chair was situated a reasonably large amount of space away from mine. As if I had some deadly disease and they could catch it at any moment. I sat down despite the fact that it was an order from some stranger. Really, I didn’t want to sit down; I wanted to know what was going on! Why would I need to be talked to? The only thing that’s going on with me right now is my bad habit of smoking, my callused fingers, and the fact I like to skip a little too much class. Although my parents only know of one of the above as of right now.

“We’re just worried about you, sweety.” My mom started. Why the fuck would she be worried? “We’ve noticed certain habits you have formed and…” she trailed off but my dad didn’t miss a beat, he continued her sentence with a little more harshness.

“We know you’re faggot!” he accused me harshly.

It took me a minute to register what he just called me. Everyone was looking at my father with a shocked expression. The woman was scolded him for calling me such a name as my mother gave him a look that could kill. All I could do was say, “What?”

Everyone stared back at me and the woman, Ms. Mackenzie, decided to speak.

“Frank,” she addressed me just as my school consoler did today in his office. “I know exactly of the feelings inside of you right now. I work for a place called Mother Mary’s, and I help many people just like yourself. At Mother Mary’s we help people learn to understand the reason behind their homosexual feelings and actions and by locating the problem we help people heal the unnatural feelings they have towards the same sex.”

I felt dazed and confused and all I can do is repeat myself again only a bit louder, “What?”

“Sweety,” my mom spoke up, trying to explain things better to me so I would understand, “We love you, but we’ve just noticed some things or rather decisions you’ve been making lately that suggest you have an unnatural uh… sexual orientation.”

“What?” I asked for the third time. “Why would you think I’m a-“

My father wouldn’t let me finish, instead he stood up, holding up my pink belt and my black kohl,” Come on,” he said. “You’ve been wearing pink clothes and make-up for gods sake!”

My mother hushed him for using the lord’s name in vain, although she too had something to share. “You’ve been trying to get us to eat tofu!” she almost cried out.

Ms. Mackenzie, still sitting next to me supported my parents. “The number one signs of confusion of a males role is putting purples and pinks in their every day apparel, along with switching to vegetarianism.”

My teacher was next he sat there rather quiet through the whole thing, which surprised me. “Frank, I have caught you staring at me on more than one occasion.” Now that was a goddamn lie, I rarely even looked at his ugly excuse for a face, let alone pine over his disgusting middle-aged body. The smile on his face re-assured me though, he knew damn well what he was doing.

“There is a fine line between admiration and obsessing over what you can’t have,” the woman said as if it was completely normal. The sick motherfucker, she probably knew.

Todd looked uncomfortable in his chair, but he still pulled my poster of Billie Joe out for this little show-and-tell. “You’ve had this poster for years” he explained, not daring to look me in the eye. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve caught you staring at him. And sometimes you hug me and touch me a little longer than I’m comfortable with.” He said looking guilty.

“Mhmm,” Ms. Bitch said in an ‘I told you so” tone of voice.

“You don’t even like to kiss me,” Abby said with a pleading look in her eye.

“It’s true,” Todd confirmed quietly.

“What the hell?”

“Frank, you are not alone in this,” Mrs. Mackenzie told me as if someone had died.

“I-No!” I told her, looking at her ageing face. “I can’t be!”

“Denial is a normal part of the healing process that we will explore at Mother Mary’s Institute.”

“Healing…” I repeated her and turned towards my parents for an answer.

“It’s like AA for homosexuals,” my mom told me. “It’ll only be for a few months, sweety.”

“No,” I shook my head violently. “No fucking way am I going!”