Shattering Roses

Spirit Day

This is a story of a boy without your usual fairytale ending.

He was the oldest of my many brothers.

I have no sisters.

Besides my grandmother, I'm the only girl in the family.

My mother died a year after I was born from cancer.

It was just my dad, his mom, and my four older brothers living together in our city house.

My oldest brother was never normal.

While my three other brothers played football in the park with their friends, completely ignoring me, he rather spend time with me by playing with my dolls and many other little girl games that I loved.

I loved my dolls and my games.

He loved spending time with me.

I was his only sister and there was never going to be another me so he refused to take me for granted.

He told me to never take anyone for granted.

He said he had took our mom for granted and now she was gone.

When my dad and grandma were out, he was the one put in charge, but I was the only one that ever listened to him.

The rest of my brothers laughed at him and did whatever they pleased.

We weren't strong enough to stand up to three buff boys.

My oldest brother was pretty lanky because he wasn't one for physical exercise.

We were the best of friends.

No one really liked me at school because they thought I was fat and ugly.

No one was my brother's friend because they thought he was short and stupid.

We had each other though.

We did everything together.

When he was fifteen and I was ten, he brought me to our favorite park, away from everyone else among the trees, our favorite spot, because he said he needed to talk to me in complete privacy.

He asked me if I could keep a secret.

If I was open minded and wouldn't judge him.

If I wouldn't start to hate him.

I told him that I could never hate him.

No matter what.

That's when he told me that he had no interest in girls.

That he was attracted to men.

That he was homosexual.

That he was gay.

That he was queer.

That he was a fagot.

He had called himself all those things and I had to put my hand over his mouth to get him to stop.

We lived in a very religious city.

Homosexuals were greatly looked down upon.

We were brought up to believe that being gay would send you to Hell.

My brother was so nice and wonderful.

There was no way someone so perfect would be sent to Hell just because he was born like that.

I knew he had to be born like that because there was no way someone would DECIDE that.

I told him that I didn't care.