The Loner

I try to fit in. I do. I avoid all the bullies and teachers, but somehow they always find me. I am, and will always be...the loner.
This is my entry for the bullying comp.

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4. Self Confession- Chris

The door clicks and my Mother calls up to me. “Chris, are you home?”

“Yeah,”

“Come here.” She replies.

“Just a minute.” I shove the diary under a stack of undone homework and make my way into the landing. My Mother is standing at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by shopping and loaded with bursting, plastic bags. She looks up at me, dark, bouncy ringlets hanging by her shoulders. As soon as she sees me, a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. A weak little smile that is honest and innocent, but slightly weary.

“Christopher,” I rush down to help her, as she trots off in the direction of the kitchen. She hands me some bags gratefully and starts to natter on about her day and the latest gossip. I roll my eyes, Mothers. Unpacking the bags carefully, I stack the relevant tins in the fridge. The majority of food we buy is readymade; let’s just say Mum is not the best cook. She slides a packet into the microwave, and that’s when I realise.

“Where’s Lucy?” I ask, sliding a tin can back and forth subconsciously.

Her smile disappears, replaced with a cold frown. “In a detention.” The reply surprises me, and the can flies out of my grasp and across the room, the squishy contents splattering all over the geometric tiles that line the floor.

“Damn it! I’m so sorry, Mum!” Grabbing a cloth, I bend down and stat to mop up the sticky patterns. The result is horrendous, the red paste smearing even further along the floor, leaving a big red patch.

My Mother sighs and bends down to help. “Don’t worry about it Darling.” Steering the conversation towards another topic, we sit down and wait for our food to be cooked.

*

I am still confused as I return to my room. Why is Lucy in a detention? She is so innocent, so sweet. I wonder what she did wrong? I hope it wasn’t anything to do with that girl again. Apparently, a distressed Mother complained about Lucy for ‘Bullying and tormenting’ her child. That’s hardly true. I bet you Lucy was retaliating to some crude comments from this spiteful girl. All she was doing was standing up for herself, right?

Lucy has never really been the same since Dad left us. One day he was there, the next gone. Vanished just like that. Perhaps things would be different if he hadn’t left us. Perhaps things would be whole again.

My phone beeps and I ignore it. An anonymous number has been texting me all week, rude messages, threats and scarring words are sent by the dozens. I wish they would just leave me alone; my life would be so much easier. In a fluster I remember my earlier ambition, and I proceed to the bed tiredly.

I slide the diary out again and grab a pen, eyes screwed up. I let my thoughts escape me and try to relax. My grip on the pen tightens and I blindly scribble onto the paper. The paper is thin and frail beneath my point, the ink smudging the only-just decipherable words. I open my eyes and peer down at the page.

Etched into the paper were three words; three words that changed my life.

I love Danny.

I throw the book across the room, disgusted with myself. Why on earth did I write that?

That’s when it hits me. When I really get it, understand it, accept it. Everything that I said to Danny was a lie; A desperate attempt at love. I thought that if I said it enough times it would come true, he would love me.  Now I know, that the things I have been saying were true, but not about Danny, about me. Next to those three words, I write the answer to everything.

I am gay.

That explains a lot; the empty list of female crushes; the never-ending list of male ones, the pink frocks, the obsession with fashion and makeup, and the hate for football and videogames.

I know what I need to do.

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