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Stories and Poems

His name was EniceLanguage and Sensitive Subject
Enice was none like other the town had seen when he moved there. No one had forest green eyes with brown hair as he did. He wore black dresses in different styles and lengths, never going past knee length, which were mostly gothic lolita inspired where everyone wore colorful things that were in fashion. He was already picked on for being different and standing out by the boys. The girls only snickered and pondered about him.
” What’s your name ? ”
” Enice. ”
” No it’s not girly man, your name is faggot. ”
And so he was left with those hurtful words that made him cry.
Boys don’t cry, they were supposed to be manly, to cry was a sign of weakness.
But to Enice, to cry as a man was a sign of strength and honesty, not as a weakness. Each day was bad enough. Even so, he continued going to school. Where else was there to go? Each day, he was called names by the boys for being different and harassed. The girls only whispered and talked about him. They wondered why he wore dresses instead of man’s clothes. And so he was teased for it even by the girls, cruelly set up.
” Enice, I like you.. ” , a girl told him.
He was flattered yet did not like her as he did not know her.
” Do you like me? ”
He responded with no, not like that.
” Too bad! No girl would like a gay girly faggot boyfriend like you! ”
He was left alone, laughed at the boys who ridiculed him.
He did not understand why he did not like girls. He hated himself for not being normal. At home, he yelled at himself,
” Why am I like this way?!! ”
It hurt so much. All he wanted was to be liked and not despised. Even his parents disapproved of him for wearing his black dresses. His own father,
” Enice. You should put on man clothes, you’re not a woman so stop trying to be one. ”
Those words hurt him so. No one understood that he always felt like a female inside, not a man. He liked to dress nice, to be pretty. He liked pretty and cute things. As a child, he would sit inside and read books as he drank tea in a make-believe tea party instead of playing with the boys outside. Enice didn’t like to play rough in sports. He put on his dresses even as a child. They slowly become darker in colors as did his life. But he still liked pretty things and dresses either way. That was his way of expressing himself as he liked and felt happiest as. But he never felt attraction to women, he found them pretty, but felt nothing for them. He felt nothing for no one. Except for his one lone friend, Thorn. Thorn was the only one nice to him even though he too, was ridiculed for it. They had common interests and shared everything. One day, he told him how he really felt.
” Thorn, I like you. ”
And so kissed him on the cheek.
His friend was shocked and pushed him away.
The look on his face showed uncertainty. And fear.
” Don’t ever come near me again “.
And he ran away. Enice felt he ruined everything and regretted it. He was crushed and cursed himself.
” Why does this have to happen? “.
At lunch, he was cornered.
” Hey, fag, I heard you kissed someone. ”
He nearly cried there because of rejection. He held strong.
” It was a boy I heard. Your little boyfriend. “.
They all knew. How he did not know but they knew. Everyone went oooh. The chants began. The name calling worsened. The teasing did too. He was hated worse than before. He was pushed and shoved. He came home with bruises. He played sick to not go to school. His parents didn’t care either way. Then he found out the truth of how they knew.
Thorn told them. Thorn, his friend, told them. He exaggerated it enough to make it sound like rape. He turned to his parents for help. They did nothing. The school did nothing. No one did anything. Even though it was seen by all. That was the final blow. His own parents brushing him off and saying, ” It’s high school, stop being a wimp and deal with it. “.
He wanted everything to stop. For the pain to go away, to be left alone, for everything to end once and for all. He couldn’t handle it anymore. The last day. His parents went to work as usual. Not giving a damn. Until the last day.
Enice stood on a chair.
The buses pulled up to the school.
” Mother. Father. Thank you for not being there for me. ”
The custodians cleaned everything away, preparing.
” Everyone. Thank you for hating me. I really appreciate it.Thank you Thorn for betraying me.  ” , he said as tears came flowing.
The sounds of the students were beginning to be loud.
” Thank you everyone for not giving a shit of what they’ve done and made me feel. ”
They were waiting for school to open and were impatient and loud. Enice put the rope around his neck.
” So I want to give you something to remember. ”
He kicked the chair away and the doors spilled open with students 30 minutes later.
As they entered the classroom, the girls screamed and cried for help and in horror.
” Enice hung himself! ”
But it was too late. He was already dead and lifeless. Another life lost of ignorance and prejudice. No one wanted to take responsibility. No one wanted to admit that they were all at fault for his death. That they were the ones who drove him to suicide. Everyone pointed fingers. But in reality, they should have been pointing them to themselves and admit the truth. When someone is bullied, why are they so? Because they are different and not like the others. Because the majority cannot accept, it is not what they’re used to. Why must someone die for conservative ideals that are ridiculously vague? Why is that when a death happens, does no one want to admit that they went too far, having so much fun pushing at how much they could away with, that they didn’t stop and think how they made the person feel? No one knows, maybe because we live in a world with self-centered individuals who care nothing but about themselves having fun, even if it kills someone in the process.

-Dinah in memory of a friend

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