Love and Hatred of a not so different kind :: essays research papers

Tossed into the lockers Michael slides to the linoleum in pain. Not so much in his body, but in his heart. Foot, boots, shoes, all a blur jab into his stomach and groin, causing bright flashes to erupt in his head. His towel, ripped from around his body, he lay there naked. Vulnerability and shame paint his face along with silent tears that refuse to give his nemesis the satisfaction that they want. Closing his eyes he comes to the realization that no one will rescue him from his torment. Everyone in the locker room is involved. Fellow peers he had once known, shared confidences with, participated in the beating or stood watching from each side of him, cheering on Michael's attackers. Leaving their friend to suffer the blows. Michael looks up. Each boy stares evilly at him, hatred pouring from their eyes and dripping on to him, burning him, scolding his tender flesh. The words, more powerful then any knives and guns they could've used. Fag, queer, and other names are hurled at him like stones. How the others had found out he was gay was beyond his knowledge. He had been so secretive and eluded all the so-called gestures and behavior that would have made him the target of others, yet they had found out his secret. Nothing hurt him more then the words. Being deaf would have been easier than to face this. He longed for Travis, his boyfriend, to be here with him then the barrage of blows. I'm glad he's not here to witness this, he thinks to himself, giving him joy and satisfaction in a time like this. Saying a prayer to God he relaxes, preparing to be taken soon by His arms to a place far away from here, a place where he could be himself and not pretend anymore. Letting go would be so easy. Then I can finally rest. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the beating was over. Unbelieving he looked up into the eyes of his attackers, begging them silently. "You fag. We don't like your kind here." The boy pulled Michael to his feet, supporting him for he could no longer do it himself. His icy blue eyes pierced into Michael's soul. "Don't ever let me catch you in here. You need to go into the girl's locker room you queer. I don't want you looking at us.