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    W_L
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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.
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WL's Prompts- Short Stories - 3. Prompt #74- That’s Where You’ll Find Me

PT# 74
Ever since you saw a lady wearing a pink cowboy hat in a video on YouTube, you keep seeing her all over the city, even in your favorite bar serving drinks. Who is she? Is she real? Or are you having a Perception moment?
Thanks @Aditus for coming up with this prompt and allowing me to stretch my writing ability to attempt writing a non-binary gay character.

That’s Where You’ll Find Me

By W.L

My name is Martin Arlen, I’m a twenty-two-year-old college senior majoring in marketing and a fraternity brother of Tau Chi Rho, an elite Christian fraternity at our secular state university. I grew up with very loving and devout parents, who cherished me and provided for my education at home. I spent most of the time either studying or playing sports, where I met most of my friends, including my best friend Eddie Harburg. Even though I spend most of my time with my frat brothers over prayer sessions or studying, my best friend Eddie and I always find time for each other each day, like playing a game of pick-up basketball or going to the gym. Eddie chose to come to the state university, when I got accepted, despite being offered scholarships to his pick of an NCAA division 1 school. He’s the epitome of a best friend and I didn’t think anything could change that.

Yet, things did start changing after I got a weird email in my school account asking me to open my mind to different truth with a link to YouTube. I have never doubted my faith, having faced off against abortionists and the proponents of the gay agenda publicly at our university. I have heard all their arguments and none of it has shaken my beliefs, so I wasn’t afraid to hear another one. I logged into YouTube using my school’s laptop since my parents did not provide me with a smartphone. Instead of a lecture or opinion video, I was directed to a private channel and a music video that purportedly was reuploaded from an older channel five years ago. There was a good-looking girl, who wore a pink cowboy hat. She had brown hair and green eyes with generous use of makeup and eyeliner. Her nose was pointed and her cheekbones curved in like a heart when she smiled. She began to strum on a harp to the familiar tune of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, then began to sing in the most melodic voice I have ever heard. If there are angels on earth, then she must be one of them. However, as she proceeded in singing, dread and concern filled me. My mind was wrapped with thoughts about protecting her, shielding her from her attackers. Yet, I didn’t know this girl, nor why the thought that she would be under attack came to my mind.

I think I am going nuts over a girl, who I didn’t know existed until a week ago. I see her everywhere I go, even when my fraternity brothers and I went out to a local bar for our weekly Sunday brunch after church. I could have sworn I saw her as one of the waitresses busing our table. I’ve listened to the music video 724 times over the last week, which I know due to the number of views being tallied always lagged behind my last viewing. My mind has been flashing each time to protect her, I want to keep her away in a safe place somewhere. Yet, all I know about her Is her name from five years ago was Marlen.

During my daily prayer sessions, when my brothers and I offered up our daily confessionals including potential love interests, I kept the topic of this mysterious girl out of discussions. Something in me warned me never to speak of her to them, but these young men were my Christian brothers. We could tell each other anything and through the power of Christ confront any worldly demons that are put before us. Yet, I couldn’t let them know about her, but why?

When I began playing basketball with Eddie, I was too distracted to focus on the game, allowing him to score several times. He noticed my lack of focus and asked me if something was going on. Something in me said I could tell him about her and he would understand, maybe even help me in protecting her.

“Eddie, I…think…a girl is in trouble and I don’t know why I feel that way. Am I in love with her or something?”

Eddie appeared pained by my words, so he asked, “Do you know her?”

“No, I’ve never met her in my life. I’ve only seen her through a YouTube video...” I began to explain the entire sequence of events that led me to her. Eddie’s expression shifted from pained to astonished, when I described the girl’s features and her singing of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

Eddie quickly took out his phone and asked me to log into my school email account, so he can see the private video. I did as he asked and the music video began to play for the 725th time.

After the music video, Eddie placed a hand on me, “Marty, are you okay with this? I think I know who sent this out and they’re being assholes about it. I’ll get this pulled from YouTube at once.”

I shook my head and angrily replied, “No, I am not okay, I want to know who she is. Why am I so worried about her?”

My mind tried to think back to memories, where I could see this brown-haired and green-eyed girl, but all I got was the feeling of pain and shame. I felt like I should know her and I also felt like something bad had happened to her.

Eddie frowned and muttered to himself, “You weren’t supposed to find out about this…they have no right to bring this up…I was happy just letting it go and living with this…”

Eddie left me completely confused by his irrational ramblings. I followed him and tracked Eddie to the dorm room of Roger Calhoun, a freshman from a local LGBTQ student organization chapter at our university. My fraternity and I have fought his group and challenged his degenerate organization at every turn from stopping their push for gender-neutral locker rooms and bathrooms to allowing a noted speaker of conversion therapy to be a guest lecturer at our university. We recently were able to roll back their university funding for books that would have increased their influence on other impressionable minds. However, none of that would add up to what happened to the girl. I didn’t feel like she was endangered by Roger or his group of sexual deviants.

I overheard part of their conversation.

Roger argued, “…I get you to want to protect him and I read what happened, but it’s no excuse to live your life like that. That’s not the truth, no matter how much his parents pushed it on him to make him believe it was out of some misguided sense to protect. You know it and I know it. Marlen was a YouTube influencer, who got guys like me to come out of the closet despite what we faced. We heard Marlen talk about being supported by you and her family. How the teasing kids in school had forced Marlen’s parents to homeschool. You helped make the videos because you cared about Marlen. Let him face his reality and his trauma…”

Eddie punched the door “Look, I get that you’re coming from a good place, but Marty should not have to deal with this again. It was my fault that some religious sickos found the videos and took him…”

Both Roger and Eddie turned to me as I was trying to process what they were saying. I couldn’t be here right now and I ran out of the dorm and towards my car. I needed to drive and get my mind straighten out. I drove back home, but I kept seeing Marlen on every billboard and passing girls on the street. None of this made any sense, why was Marlen so stuck in my mind, what happened to her? It sounded like her parents were very supportive, they must have loved her a lot like my own. In my mind, my parents would be able to help me find Marlen and help her. She needed someone to support her right now, something bad happened to her.

Instinctively upon seeing my mom, I hugged her. She was a middle-aged woman with brown hair and green eyes like Marlen. My dad ran down the steps to greet me from his home office, where he ran an international consulting business. His cheekbones curved in like a heart when he saw me. For some reason, I wanted to cry and scream. I wanted to ask them to hold me. A dam of emotions began to burst in me, I tried to keep them at bay, but I couldn’t any longer.

Before they could speak, I asked them, “Who is Marlen?”

I knew the answer already when I saw their faces and pieced together all the conversations. Pieces of my new reality began to form in my mind. My parents weren’t devout, nor did they homeschool me to keep the evil temptations of the world away. They did it because I was a non-binary kid, who would be teased by others and judged by teachers harshly. Eddie was more than my best friend; he was my boyfriend and we loved each other. I remembered walking in the street after playing a round of basketball with Eddie. His parents had offered me a ride, but I wanted to walk a little to cool down after an intense match. Some strangers stalked and took me into a van from the street. They…no…no…no…

My parents embraced me before answering, “We love you, no matter what you call yourself, you are ours.”

Later that night, Eddie came by my house and went up to my room. I have been lying on my bed ever since I returned home, refusing food or drink from my parents. Words kept circulating in my head about what I was: queer, sissy, and faggot being among the most pronounced and venomous.

I stared at him “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you allow me to be an asshole to you and everyone else? Why did you let me live a lie?”

Eddie sat down on a corner of the bed, then kneaded my foot as he used to, in my memories, he sighed “I felt responsible for what happened to you, Marty. I shouldn’t have had the stupid idea of broadcasting your life to others and making you a target. So, no matter what you did afterward or if you become a complete homophobic asshole, I’d accept it as my punishment.”

I brushed my fingers up and down his spine in response, then replied softly, “My name is Marlen, I am not going to live a lie just to keep this shit bottled in me. I want to remember everything and get the old me back. I want to sing again; I want to put on makeup and eyeliner. I still want to play basketball with you and I still want you to be my well-meaning stupid boyfriend,” I exhaled, “Finally, I want us to start the YouTube channel, again, no matter what happens. It’s time I reclaim my life.”

This story is my first time writing a non-binary character, I hope readers and other authors are okay with the portrayal.
Copyright © 2022 W_L; 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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5 hours ago, chris191070 said:

I really enjoyed that, great use of the prompt.

Thanks Chris, it's my first experiment with several themes and the first time I wrote a non-binary character (not counting Chip, he's still finding himself/themself). I am glad you liked it

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I'm glad the prompt inspired you to experiment and create a character you haven't written before.

The story took an unexpected and surprising turn.  I really like how you used the prompt. 

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14 minutes ago, Aditus said:

I'm glad the prompt inspired you to experiment and create a character you haven't written before.

The story took an unexpected and surprising turn.  I really like how you used the prompt. 

Thanks @Aditus, when your prompt brought up phantom images and "perception", the idea gelled in my mind. It was a departure from how I usually write, but I am glad I surprised you with something interesting.

I am nowhere near Rod Serling levels of plot twists :) yet :o :evil:  

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