Status: One shot.
Another deppressing story about a girl killing herself cause of her sexuality.
Chapter One
Dear Mom, Dad and all the people who resulted in the writing of this letter,
I’m not saying goodbye, I’m saying good riddance. I’ve wanted to write this letter, note, or whatever you want to call it, for some time now. I just couldn’t find the words or a reason. But now I have one. When I woke up this morning I said “if I get called a fag once today, I’m doing it” and guess that got called that horrific term…me. As many, if not all of you know, I’m a lesbian. Yeah, you heard me right. I like girls, not guys. But apparently from some perspectives, that changes who I am as a person. Apparently, I’m dirty because I love people. Wow…that’s really low.
I’ve been called that monstrous term since sixth grade. Yes, I’ve lost friends, been turned down for jobs, been looked down upon, harassed, bullied and physically beat by my own father because of my sexuality. But I’m ending it. As soon as I finish this letter, it’s going to happen. I have a razor and a tub full of hot water. Guess what I’m doing with it. (You may be wondering where I’m going with this, just hold on a second, ok??) I’m going to kill myself; commit suicide; end it all; end my own life. Yeah. I’m just that SERIOUS. At first, I didn’t want to write a letter goodbye or good riddance. But then I figured, why not? Maybe I could save some other teen from the hell I’ve been living through for the past 4 years.
Because no one deserves what I’ve gone through. No one deserves to be shunned, hated, despised, talked about behind their backs, called terrible names to their face. No one deserves it. Some of you are probably saying, “If you don’t want people to call you those names or treat you so badly, just don’t be a lesbian.”
Well, you know something? I was BORN this way. I am a lesbian, and I am proud. I’ve kept a straight-A record, clean background, and everything that teachers smile upon. I remember one time, in 7th grade, Mrs. James was our substitute. Mitchel Murray, the “it” kid, told Mrs. James that I was a lesbian. I bet you can’t guess what happened next. Mrs. James called me up to the front, and made me repeat “I’m a worthless lesbian.” Fifty times in front of the whole class. Did anyone say anything? No. no one said anything except vicious taunts and threats. I didn’t want to give into her evil, judgmental, prejudice ways, so I didn’t tell anyone.
Call me weak, I dare you.
One day in 8th grade, we were writing persuasive papers. Our teacher had an officer from the high school to come in so he could give us a third-person point of view of our topics. Out of pure curiosity, I asked what his opinion on gay marriage was. He blatantly replied, “I don’t feel that the special bond of marriage should be made for two people of the same sex. I find it filthy and disgusting.” What he didn’t know was that I was going to be including his lovely little comment against gays in my good riddance letter. But that wasn’t the last time I was tortured by people with no hearts. Oh no, that was just the beginning.
One day, in 9th grade, last year, my dad found out that I was a lesbian. When I got home from school, the stove was turned on. He was standing there, with no emotion; no expression. He took my arm and pulled my sleeve up. I screamed “daddy no!! Daddy, NO!!” over and over and over and over and over, but he didn’t listen. He held my arm in that blue, white hot flame for 27 seconds. Yes, I counted. But I deserved it, right? He was only trying to set his little girl straight, right? I had to walk 3 miles to the hospital, and once I got there, it took 4 hours to get into a room. And once I did, there was nothing they could do except wrap my arm in dry clothes, and send me home. Send me home to the father who almost killed me because of my sexuality.
Once, in 8th grade, I was walking home from school. My dad wouldn’t drive me, and I was tired of being teased on the bus, so I had started walking home for about a month earlier. Before I knew it, I was on the ground. I looked up to see what had happened, and I saw Mitchel Murray standing above me. He shoved a dirty sock in my mouth to stifle my screams. No matter how hard I fought or how loud I screamed, it wasn’t enough. He dragged me into a back alley, and started. Mitchel Murray, the boy who teased me since the incident with Mrs. James, raped me in a back alley way, the whole time saying, “This’ll turn you straight.” After the most horrifying 16 minutes of my life were over, he ran. He ran faster than I could after being physically beaten like that. I dragged myself home, and sobbed onto the couch.
My dad came in and said, quote, “What’s the matter? Someone state the facts again?” and I just cried harder. I said, “Mitchel Murray drug me into an alley and raped me on my way home from school.” And what my father said next, altered my life. He ruined any hope of freedom from words I ever had. He said, “Did it turn you straight?” Bullying has driven me to suicide. Don’t you understand how much you’re ruining someone’s life when you call them names, ignore them, and laugh when they mess up in class? Don’t you understand how much everyone just desires to be loved? Whether you’re in a wheelchair, battling cancer, pregnant, mentally ill, mentally disabled, of a different race, lesbian, bi, gay, have an accent, dress badly, poor, smell because your family can’t afford water for showers, overweight, blind, deaf, or socially awkward, you just want to be accepted. Spreading rumors, starting fights, and telling people their not good enough has got to be the worst thing anyone can do.
I know from firsthand experience that it can emotionally kill you. I know it killed me. So mom, dad, or whoever is hearing this at my funeral, if I’m worth one, think about what you’ve done to me. Think about the back alley, think about Mrs. James’s classroom, and think about the burn you’ve teased me about on my left forearm. I bet you didn’t know the story behind that burn. Think about all the times you wrote profanity all over my locker with expo marker, think about all the crude notes you left in my locker, tell me how worthless I am.
Think about all the times you yelled despicable things after me in the hallways. Gay/lesbian people are no different than anyone else in this world. They are just people, going through life, searching for love. If they wanted to be straight, they would be, but they can’t. Your sexuality is something you are born with, not something you chose. Don’t you think that gays/lesbians would do anything to be straight just so they could escape the prejudices and laws against them? They can’t even marry the ones they are in love with! Don’t you think they want to be married? But they can’t be. How is discriminating against people because of their sexuality any differently then discriminating against people because of their race?? How is it ANY different? It isn’t any different. It’s just the same.
To make fun of someone because of something that they can’t help, is monstrous beyond words. How would you feel if you were me? How would you feel if people you looked up to like your teachers and parents wouldn’t even look at you because of your sexuality? Having to hide the biggest part of you is a nightmare. It makes you feel low, worthless, hated, unworthy, unloved, and bad. Why would anyone want to feel that way their whole life? And that’s why I’m killing myself. I just can’t take the torture any longer. I’m done with people treating me like I’m not even human, I can’t take it anymore. I just wasn’t strong enough. But hopefully some others will. I am NOT writing this letter as intent to make anyone feel bad, just to let the truth free from the lies that have been holding it captive for so long.
I’m not saying goodbye, I’m saying good riddance. I’ve wanted to write this letter, note, or whatever you want to call it, for some time now. I just couldn’t find the words or a reason. But now I have one. When I woke up this morning I said “if I get called a fag once today, I’m doing it” and guess that got called that horrific term…me. As many, if not all of you know, I’m a lesbian. Yeah, you heard me right. I like girls, not guys. But apparently from some perspectives, that changes who I am as a person. Apparently, I’m dirty because I love people. Wow…that’s really low.
I’ve been called that monstrous term since sixth grade. Yes, I’ve lost friends, been turned down for jobs, been looked down upon, harassed, bullied and physically beat by my own father because of my sexuality. But I’m ending it. As soon as I finish this letter, it’s going to happen. I have a razor and a tub full of hot water. Guess what I’m doing with it. (You may be wondering where I’m going with this, just hold on a second, ok??) I’m going to kill myself; commit suicide; end it all; end my own life. Yeah. I’m just that SERIOUS. At first, I didn’t want to write a letter goodbye or good riddance. But then I figured, why not? Maybe I could save some other teen from the hell I’ve been living through for the past 4 years.
Because no one deserves what I’ve gone through. No one deserves to be shunned, hated, despised, talked about behind their backs, called terrible names to their face. No one deserves it. Some of you are probably saying, “If you don’t want people to call you those names or treat you so badly, just don’t be a lesbian.”
Well, you know something? I was BORN this way. I am a lesbian, and I am proud. I’ve kept a straight-A record, clean background, and everything that teachers smile upon. I remember one time, in 7th grade, Mrs. James was our substitute. Mitchel Murray, the “it” kid, told Mrs. James that I was a lesbian. I bet you can’t guess what happened next. Mrs. James called me up to the front, and made me repeat “I’m a worthless lesbian.” Fifty times in front of the whole class. Did anyone say anything? No. no one said anything except vicious taunts and threats. I didn’t want to give into her evil, judgmental, prejudice ways, so I didn’t tell anyone.
Call me weak, I dare you.
One day in 8th grade, we were writing persuasive papers. Our teacher had an officer from the high school to come in so he could give us a third-person point of view of our topics. Out of pure curiosity, I asked what his opinion on gay marriage was. He blatantly replied, “I don’t feel that the special bond of marriage should be made for two people of the same sex. I find it filthy and disgusting.” What he didn’t know was that I was going to be including his lovely little comment against gays in my good riddance letter. But that wasn’t the last time I was tortured by people with no hearts. Oh no, that was just the beginning.
One day, in 9th grade, last year, my dad found out that I was a lesbian. When I got home from school, the stove was turned on. He was standing there, with no emotion; no expression. He took my arm and pulled my sleeve up. I screamed “daddy no!! Daddy, NO!!” over and over and over and over and over, but he didn’t listen. He held my arm in that blue, white hot flame for 27 seconds. Yes, I counted. But I deserved it, right? He was only trying to set his little girl straight, right? I had to walk 3 miles to the hospital, and once I got there, it took 4 hours to get into a room. And once I did, there was nothing they could do except wrap my arm in dry clothes, and send me home. Send me home to the father who almost killed me because of my sexuality.
Once, in 8th grade, I was walking home from school. My dad wouldn’t drive me, and I was tired of being teased on the bus, so I had started walking home for about a month earlier. Before I knew it, I was on the ground. I looked up to see what had happened, and I saw Mitchel Murray standing above me. He shoved a dirty sock in my mouth to stifle my screams. No matter how hard I fought or how loud I screamed, it wasn’t enough. He dragged me into a back alley, and started. Mitchel Murray, the boy who teased me since the incident with Mrs. James, raped me in a back alley way, the whole time saying, “This’ll turn you straight.” After the most horrifying 16 minutes of my life were over, he ran. He ran faster than I could after being physically beaten like that. I dragged myself home, and sobbed onto the couch.
My dad came in and said, quote, “What’s the matter? Someone state the facts again?” and I just cried harder. I said, “Mitchel Murray drug me into an alley and raped me on my way home from school.” And what my father said next, altered my life. He ruined any hope of freedom from words I ever had. He said, “Did it turn you straight?” Bullying has driven me to suicide. Don’t you understand how much you’re ruining someone’s life when you call them names, ignore them, and laugh when they mess up in class? Don’t you understand how much everyone just desires to be loved? Whether you’re in a wheelchair, battling cancer, pregnant, mentally ill, mentally disabled, of a different race, lesbian, bi, gay, have an accent, dress badly, poor, smell because your family can’t afford water for showers, overweight, blind, deaf, or socially awkward, you just want to be accepted. Spreading rumors, starting fights, and telling people their not good enough has got to be the worst thing anyone can do.
I know from firsthand experience that it can emotionally kill you. I know it killed me. So mom, dad, or whoever is hearing this at my funeral, if I’m worth one, think about what you’ve done to me. Think about the back alley, think about Mrs. James’s classroom, and think about the burn you’ve teased me about on my left forearm. I bet you didn’t know the story behind that burn. Think about all the times you wrote profanity all over my locker with expo marker, think about all the crude notes you left in my locker, tell me how worthless I am.
Think about all the times you yelled despicable things after me in the hallways. Gay/lesbian people are no different than anyone else in this world. They are just people, going through life, searching for love. If they wanted to be straight, they would be, but they can’t. Your sexuality is something you are born with, not something you chose. Don’t you think that gays/lesbians would do anything to be straight just so they could escape the prejudices and laws against them? They can’t even marry the ones they are in love with! Don’t you think they want to be married? But they can’t be. How is discriminating against people because of their sexuality any differently then discriminating against people because of their race?? How is it ANY different? It isn’t any different. It’s just the same.
To make fun of someone because of something that they can’t help, is monstrous beyond words. How would you feel if you were me? How would you feel if people you looked up to like your teachers and parents wouldn’t even look at you because of your sexuality? Having to hide the biggest part of you is a nightmare. It makes you feel low, worthless, hated, unworthy, unloved, and bad. Why would anyone want to feel that way their whole life? And that’s why I’m killing myself. I just can’t take the torture any longer. I’m done with people treating me like I’m not even human, I can’t take it anymore. I just wasn’t strong enough. But hopefully some others will. I am NOT writing this letter as intent to make anyone feel bad, just to let the truth free from the lies that have been holding it captive for so long.