How I Live Now - 1. Day 1.

When I said to my parents that I was gay, I had assumed the probable outcome. That they'd flip and toss me out on my ass. And I was right, but that's not what I wanted to believe at the time. On Friday, I came home from my usual hobby of watching the football team's match. I can never explain it; watching all those hot guys playing rough sometimes makes me so horny that it hurts. Just last night was possibly the worst night of my life… Okay, minus the hot football players. Everything that happened after that, I did of my own accord, and it makes me wish I hadn't done it at all. In school, I am a ghost, plus, I prefer it that way. You know when nobody knows you or bothers you with their mundane problems. I am unwilling to declare that maybe having a friend along the way would have been a good idea, but as I told you… I'm not friendly material.

Well, at least in that place. If the ground beneath my feet opened up tomorrow and it swallowed me whole, it would probably take me back to that bloody institution to be spiteful. Yet, I know, I won't be seeing that school ever again, or the people walking those cold psychiatric corridors. In the foyer, they so proudly displayed our prized trophies in an overzealous exhibition area.

Mom and Dad won't have to worry about me anymore; they can go to hell. Mom didn't even try to stick up for me. Dad, however, got violent and… Hello, black eye. Yeah, maybe I've had a few too many of those black eyes to count; add that to the vicious beatings I'd get when I moved too slow or decided to be smarter. There was no even playing field with Dad, and I feel like I can breathe for the first time in my entire life.
Figuring most people saw me at my worst for most of my life, you might as well call me Black Eye. It's funny… I guess. Actually, my name is… hell… I'm not sure if it's 'You Good For Nothing, or Worthless Bastard, or just Kyle.'

I thought writing down my feelings would help somehow; well, the plane ride suggested I'd better get something for the long hall. Though between you and me, I gazed at this frickin steno notebook for a hell of a long time before I decided to put a single word in here. Okay… when I say a long time… about four hours is about right.

Yesterday's events were percolating for a few months; things were getting unbearable at home, and I was beginning to fear I'd end up hurting someone… or killing Dad. Not that I will/would, but I worried all the same. Dad believed I sometimes played hooky when I was meant to be in school, and well, he wasn't wrong for the past few months. It's not like I was out boozing, getting high, or playing around. I had gotten a part-time job at this Agri after school. The owner Jim, he paid me into the hand for being an assistant. You know, like cleaning up the office or helping people carry stuff out to their cars. It was the only time I felt good enough about myself. I was out meeting people, I was making some money, and I was providing for myself.

The money I saved bought me a plane ticket to St Clement. They had the cheapest I could find. I'd be lying if I said there was enough to take a bath in the amount of dough I have floating around. Even if I was bordering on broke, attempting to make something of myself was a lot better than living at home with that narcissist. I'm not sure if people on board this plane even realize that I am a runaway. I was half expecting to be detained at the border patrol on the way out of Mayland International Airport. Yet, it was surprisingly easy to buy a ticket and fly without needing my parents with me. Sure, they checked my passport, boarding my ticket too, but they didn't care apart from that. I was able to leave my country without any challenging obstacles in my way.

Alright, when I was waiting for the guy to hand me back my passport on the way out, I felt like I could have wet myself. My insides were falling apart, but on the outside, everything was calm. If it's that easy for a 17-year-old to trick security at an airport, it makes me wonder how many folks do this all the time. Well, I still have the border control for when I enter St Clement, but maybe they won't raise any flags either when I get there. I'd rather die than go back home; is that selfish? Ugh… Those headaches are coming on again. I haven't slept in almost 24 hours; maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea in the world to catch some ZZZzzzzzzs before I exit this flying tube. Perhaps I really do need some rest.

Talk soon,
Kyle