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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

An (Un)Masked Day of Silence - 1. Chapter 1

"I think we should do it." I handed the paper to Lethe, wondering if my boyfriend would think I was crazy.

Lethe read the page, looking up once, then set it on the table. "Not that I'm saying no, but why the sudden interest? I mean this is something that’s much bigger in the United States."

"So does that make it any less right?" I knew how bad it sounded to answer a question with one of my own. "Sorry, I don't mean to be defensive. I…I saw it and I just felt that I should do it, even if it's not something 'we' do here."

Lethe's lips quirked into the mischievous smirk I found so cute. "That's really…I want to say sweet, but that sound condescending. I've always watched out for myself so I never had time to worry about others."

"Right, me neither, but Gristle did." I pinched the bridge of my nose when I felt myself close to tears. "Gristle always stuck up for those who got picked on. I want…need to do this. For him."

Lethe leaned closer and kissed my cheek. "You don't need to explain anymore. Of course I'll do it with you, Jay. What did you have in mind?"

 

The weather cooperated and Oriental Parade was busier than usual for a Friday afternoon. I held a sign Lethe and I had made that read: "Day of Silence to End Bullying." I tried to restrain a smile as I watched the crowd gather around Lethe and his accordion. More than a few tossed coins in the box after reading the information sheet that I gave out.

Lethe's music had an extra edge today. As with everything he did, Lethe poured himself into the day, and it showed. I could hear some of the sadness that I felt whenever I thought about those who suffered with no one to turn to for help. Like my Lethe had in his own way.

"Um, hey, what's this about?"

I looked up to find a young woman standing in front of me. She had auburn hair and a smattering of freckles on her nose.

I held up my placard and gave a handout to her. From the corner of my eye, I saw Lethe watching us. The woman accepted the sheet and then looked at me for a long moment, frowning slightly as she took in my face and the greenstone around my neck. She looked like she was trying to place me from somewhere. She shook her head and read the sheet.

"My name is Jayden Walker. My boyfriend and I are observing a day of silence to draw attention to all the gay, lesbian, bi, and transgendered youth who are bullied everyday just for who they are. They suffer in silence because they have no one to talk to who will understand. Suicide among GLBT youth is many times higher than among their peers. Please donate to help those who suffer in silence. . . ."

I waited for her to crumple the paper and throw it at me. When she stood there staring at the paper, I cast a worried glance at Lethe who shrugged but kept playing. Finally she handed me back the sheet and I noticed a tear rolling down her cheek, over her freckles.

Still not speaking, she fished into her jeans and pulled out her wallet. She grabbed a ten dollar note and dropped it in the box. Another tear appeared and she nodded to Lethe who smiled back at her.

As I watched her, there came a tiny pulse from the greenstone around my neck. What is it, Gristle? I thought, putting down the papers and standing up. The pulse came again. And I knew he wanted me to comfort this girl.

Gently I touched her shoulder. She hiccupped a small half-sob and turned into me, wrapping her arms around my torso. Gristle’s last gift to me grew warmer as it pressed against my chest by the woman's hug. Slowly, I brought my hands up until I touched the shaking woman's thin shoulders. The crowd seemed to have grown and they stared intently at me and the young lady sobbing into my shirt.

When she finally gained a measure of control, she pushed back and tried to clear her eyes. Someone produced a few tissues that I accepted and handed to the grateful woman.

"Last year . . . there was this guy. I’d met him a couple of times. I liked him. Really liked him. He stuck up for a couple of my gay classmates at this party we had on campus. They were being bullied, and he was the only one . . . he was the only one brave enough to stop it. I wanted to, but I . . . I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to tell him I was impressed with what he did and, maybe, sort of ask him out. But I never saw him again. . . ." She looked at me and my greenstone once again. “I wish I could have said thank you. And I know I can’t now, but I just”—she sniffed—“I want to thank you two for standing out here and doing this. It’s brave. I think it’s something he would have done too.”

She kissed my cheek and slowly moved through the crowd that parted to let her pass. As the crowd began to donate in earnest, I caught Lethe smiling at me and noted the music sounded just that much happier. Putting my hand on the greenstone, I could almost see Gristle smile and nod his approval. And I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could hear him whisper: Thank you, Danielle. I liked you too.

This story was originally published on Harmony Ink's web page as part of their Day of Silence promotion to support GLSEN's efforts to end bullying of LGBTQ teens and youth
Copyright © 2013 Andrew Q Gordon, AnytaSunday; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 04/20/2013 09:20 AM, Nephylim said:
That was really beautiful, Andy. Thank you for sharing it here.
Thanks Nephy. As always, Antya's influence is a huge part of it. We were going for something that fit the day, so hopefully this worked.
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On 04/20/2013 03:34 PM, IanGf said:
Ok 971 words and now I'm crying. Thank you for such a touch piece.
Thanks Ian, I don't think we set out to make it terribly sad, but the subject isn't really conducive to a happy happy joy joy story. I'm glad you liked it, sorry you almost needed tissues. :-)
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On 04/20/2013 09:26 PM, Michael9344 said:
That's really thoughtful of you. Thoughtful and touching... Good. I like:).
Thanks for reading Michael - this was for a good cause so we tried to make it worth reading. Glad you liked it.
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On 04/21/2013 12:22 AM, joann414 said:
IN less than 1000 words, you made tears come to my eyes. Thanks for your lovely story!
Joann - thanks for reading, sorry to tear you up, but as I said to Ian, the subject wasn't designed to be a happy so we couldn't 'cheer' it up. Thanks for reading.
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I just finished the ebook of (Un)Masked, and went on to read this short story. Both are beautifully done and have me a bit teary-eyed.

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On 04/21/2014 07:17 AM, Qanon said:
I just finished the ebook of (Un)Masked, and went on to read this short story. Both are beautifully done and have me a bit teary-eyed.
I can't take credit for much of this, Anyta is so amazing to work with. I'm glad you liked both. These two will always be special to me for many reasons.
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I read this nine years after it was posted and it choked me up, not just because it is well written and heart wrenching piece of work, which it is in spades, but also because it is still so valid today. Thank you for posting this.

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On 10/13/2022 at 2:28 PM, Mancunian said:

I read this nine years after it was posted and it choked me up, not just because it is well written and heart wrenching piece of work, which it is in spades, but also because it is still so valid today. Thank you for posting this.

You're welcome. I think for many of us this resonates because we've lived it - or are living it.  Fiction helps us provide hope that things can/will be better.  That was one of the hopes with this when we wrote almost a decade ago. 

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