The Laceration Syndrome [boyxboy]

WARNING: This story isn't some light hearted romance. It explores some darker themes and may be taken offensively. I only ask you approach this with an open mind and think about homophobia in today's society. It does contain romantic themes, but will also get quite violent and contain coarse language. I'll keep it in PG-13 as long as I can but if it gets rated R, I won't argue. 
So if you don't like the sound of it, don't read it. Ta xx Otherwise, ENJOY :) Fan, comment, vote?

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I’d almost gotten used to them… the words. They were just there.

I suppose that was always the problem… they were always there.

“Faggot.”

 “Gay.”

“Fucker.”

The voices echoed in my head, curdling my blood, wrenching apart my heart. I stared at myself in the mirror.

I hated who I was. I hated myself for something I couldn’t help. Why couldn’t I be normal? Why couldn’t I just be like everyone else?

“Queer.”

“Freak.”

“Homo.”

It wasn’t my fault, yet it was who I was. There was nothing I could do to stop it, nothing that could take away the pain. I’d tried everything.

Well… everything except this.

“Sissy.”

“Loser.”

“Weirdo.”

Everyday it was the same.

I couldn’t escape… myself or them. I hated my life; I couldn’t bear it any more. I didn’t want to tell anyone, I didn’t want them to know. I couldn’t tell them.

“Worthless.”

“Pathetic.”

“Pussy.”

It wasn’t fair.

Probably the only useful thing I had ever learnt in my excuse for existence.

“Creep.”

“Weak.”

“Cock-sucker.”

It wasn’t fair.

“Die.”

“Die.

“DIE.”

Life wasn’t fair.

“Fucking Die!”