Two Kinds of Queer

Two worlds. One where gay is normal and the other where straight is normal. Two girls struggling to make it in their worlds, and what would happen if their lives were swapped.

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1. Chapter 1

     “CALLIE, OUT OF BED, NOW.”  My mother yelled up at me from downstairs, the smell of cooking eggs and toast wafted up with it.  I looked at the clock, and groaned 5:45 a.m. way to early for me to be up on a Saturday. 

     “Callie, I told you to get out of bed, let’s go, you little queer.”  The sharp sound of my mother’s voice cut in much closer to me as she came into my room.  I slowly got out of bed ignoring the rude comment she made to me.  Ever since I came out about being Straight, it seemed the whole world shunned me - even my moms.  She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, muttering under her breath.  Taking a deep breath I stumbled into my bathroom, preparing to face myself. 

     My green eyes were bloodshot and had bags under them; my arms were scarred over and over from countless cuttings, my body was small and petite from eating close to nothing, and my hair was a faded brown.  The whole picture of me was sad, but there was nothing I could do to change it.  The hole that I was buried in was far to deep for me to climb out of. 

     When you lived in a world where Gay was the normal and Straight was the outsider, you get bullied, tormented, tortured, and shunned.  I was constantly beat up and laughed at, tripped and thrown down the halls.  Even the teachers did nothing to stop it, they laughed right along with the kids.

     I remember the first feeling I had toward a guy, it was when I was ten at an amusement park.  He was shooting a rifle for prizes at a local fair.  The way he stood, so strong and bold his shoulders rippling with muscle and effort as he tried to get the targets down.  He was so…well…perfect.  He turned around after he was done, and caught my eye.  I was quick to drop my gaze, but I knew he knew I had been watching him.  I wanted him to come over so badly so I could talk to him, get to know his name, but I knew it was impossible.

     Hesitating in his step, walked toward me, his eyes cast down, and my heart skipped a beat, hoping, praying that he was coming to talk with me.  Secretly I was thinking, maybe he’s straight too; maybe he could be the one.  How could someone be so perfect?  I knew then that this would change my life forever.  Of course he never came to talk to me, he walked right by without a single glace up.  There was nothing more heartbreaking then liking someone you would never be able to have.  Nothing more painful then knowing that who you love is forbidden, and what you want is shunned.  Still, I never did forget that boy the one that changed my life. 

     His memory stayed engraved in my brain for the rest of my life.  It was the only thing I could latch onto to remember who I was during the long nights I spent questioning myself.  It was the only memory I had when I was truly myself - a memory that was highly forbidden for me to have - the memory of loving the opposite gender.

     My moms had always warned me that Straight people were to be cast out, but what if I was the Straight one?

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