3. Do it All Behind My Back Before I Make a Scene

The night before the morning of. Prepare for something unrelated.

I woke up the next morning and went to pee. I was really hard, so it was tough. I decided that since my parents were still away, now was the best time to have a quick jack off, so I did. After I came, it was much easier to go. Afterwards, I washed my hands and sat on the tile floors of the bathroom while thinking of what it’d be like to masturbate in a public restroom. I got hard again and came again and washed my hands again and left the bathroom. 

My parents were gone all day that day, too. It wasn’t normal of them, but I didn’t let the confusion linger. I fell asleep around three in the afternoon on the living room sofa, our dog cuddling up next to me. 

That afternoon sleep had me dreaming I was a donkey in a family of horses. My brothers were ashamed. I didn’t have brothers in reality.

When school started, people looked at me differently. They always looked like they were about to pretend to cry. I felt more ignored, even though there were more people talking to me than ever. I’m Sorry, over and over. They didn’t let up, and at times I forgot what they were apologizing for.

I felt raped when I found out. But then I stopped feeling.

I woke around six to the doorbell ringing and the dog yapping. I pushed the dog to shut it up, then went to answer the door. It was my friend from down the street. I always thought she was very pretty, but nobody else seemed to. Had I been attracted to girls, I would be with her likely. She brought some e, bragging that she snatched it from her druggie cousin. As if we actually did drugs. She had tried once, but I only smoked cigarettes one summer. I laughed in her face and let her in.

We were watching a Quentin Tarantino film together. A man’s ear was getting cut off when she kissed me. I kissed back and let the bowl of popcorn out of my lap. It took seconds for me to realize what was happening.

‘I’m gay.’ I told my friend.

‘I know.’ She knew.

‘Then why are you still trying? I can’t do that. You know that.’

‘But I can maybe change you..’

‘Stop it.’

‘I know a friend who did it to her gay friend…’

‘Stop it now.’

‘I just don’t want to be alone.’

I got up and walked out of my house. It was dark out, and I sighed loudly. I ran down the street, past my friend’s house, ignoring her mother waving hello, up from her gardening. I kept running until my friend caught up with me. We sounded tired, so we sat down. I wiped a little sweat off my forehead and it burnt through the ground like acid. Pretty soon there was a large hole in the ground that led to nowhere. I pushed her in and she screamed. I got up and walked home to find the police at my house.

Author's Note

Dialogue isn't my favorite thing. I do think, however, that I've found my niche with this 'surrealist ambiguity' thing. If you disagree, lemme know.