The Hatred, the Pain, the Gunshot This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

April 14, 2012
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My alarm clock buzzes and shakes me from my dream. The only place I feel safe enough to be myself. I don’t fit in well, I’m bullied constantly. You know, everybody loves a f***ing queer. Oh, no, it really is nice, though. Total strangers get to vote on whether or not I get to marry the person I love. And as a bonus, everyone loves to be in my personal business. Lucky me! I shower, dress, get my backpack, and eat breakfast. Done. With my stomach in knots, I head out the door to catch my bus.

It’s not long before I get on my bus when I hear the school bully yell, “Faggot!” Like, are you kidding me? It’s seven in the morning. F*** off. Instead I make my way to the back. In solitude, and I do my best to hold back the tears.

Upon arriving at school, everyone stares at me. Oh, right. I’m a freak show. I don’t even consider being gay as one of my defining characteristics, but people are too shallow and cliqued up to care. Coming out at 15 wasn’t my best choice, but it was necessary. If high school is supposed to be the time of my life, it sucks. So I figured I wouldn’t bother hiding myself like these assholes.

I flip off people here and there, to remind them I don’t give a s***. But it still hurts. I try to appear unmoving, like a stone, but underneath I’m a soft and creamy center. And I bruise easy as a peach.

In my first class, biology, I’m hated. Literally hated. I get called on, and picked on. I hear, “Look at this slomo try to answer. He’s f***ing stupid. Go kill yourself, you useless flamer.” Of course. Why should I live? It’s a common theme to say I’m just like everyone else. Except they’re infinitely better.

My day is rough. When I finally get to lunch, I sit alone in the back. I can barely manage down my sandwich. I go back up for a drink. Maybe some water will make me feel a little better.

I’m halfway up when I trip. Some big jock just decided to stick his leg out. Classic, oh, hey, did I tell you how much I don’t f***ing care? That’s when my hair gets wet and I realize there’s now chocolate milk running down my face. It mixes with blood and tears. I can’t take this s*** anymore. I’m running home.

When I get there, I search the basement. Ah, an old rifle. I grab bullets from another drawer. My hands goes up and down the shaft as I think about sweet release. But my poor mother and little sister…no. Too late. I prop the gun next to my head. No note. No nothing. I pull the trigger.

The last thing I heard was the gun shot. And I instantly fall asleep. And never wake up.

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This article has 12 comments. Post your own now!

W0W0coW said...
Jan. 19 at 11:49 pm
You had me crying....
Nated315This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 11, 2016 at 10:30 am
I totally relate to the main character! I feel really emotional every time I read this! Thank you for writing this!!!!!!
mplo said...
Aug. 19, 2015 at 1:07 pm
Wooo! What an intense essay! Sorry to hear that you had to take so much crap, especially at your age. High school is a tough time for everybody, but Sophomore years, for a lot of people (including myself), was especially tough. Lots of people I knew/know claim that Sophomore year of high school is the worst year, too. There's just absolutely no excuse for bullying, and no excuse for the fact that people in various positions of authority in schools (including teachers) allow bullying to slid... (more »)
Nated315This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 10, 2015 at 9:17 am
I have a 100% pure disdain for bullies. I'm taking a stand, and I support all who struggle. I care about every living person, no matter how wicked, or how much they are a stranger. Keep up the fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Butterflygirl172 said...
Dec. 12, 2013 at 10:06 am
That's very sad I hate bullies ugh :(
Lisas.Smile said...
Apr. 14, 2013 at 2:26 pm
I realy sympathised with your main charecter, you're piece is fantastic. It reminded me of a better written version of my artical "To My Family", which i'm proubly going to re-write again now.
Xizzio said...
Mar. 23, 2013 at 11:17 pm
This piece was really amazing, it was really...honest I think is the word I'm looking for, honest and raw. People don't realize how people are targeted for bullying and get the constant hatred. And people do not realize that all of that bullying can lead to terrible things like suicide. Brilliant piece! Five out of Five stars
mplo replied...
Jun. 12, 2016 at 7:33 am
What you say is quite true, Xizzio. Bullying, however, can also lead to other things, such as murder, or to a victim of bullying turning aggressor; inotherwords, people who've been bullied often become bullies themselves. Here's why: Being victimized puts a person on the defensive, because it gives him or her a feeling of inferiority. Victimizing another person in some way or other is a way of attempting to get off of the defensive. This is the kind of thing that has happened here in the U... (more »)
Kaycie said...
Feb. 4, 2013 at 4:24 pm
This is a strong essay. I feel your pain, but don't let them make you shamed.(:
Rachel B. said...
Feb. 1, 2013 at 10:31 pm
Wow. I really felt what the character was feeling. And because of how done with the world he was by the end, my first response wasn't to mourn the death of a main character, although that was my second response.  Fantastic.
Einstein This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
May 3, 2012 at 8:32 pm

I love the way you describe how the narrator feels on the inside.  

The end also made me feel really depressed because someone in my school committed suicide a little over a month ago.  At the same time, it also means that you did your job as a writer.

Foxglove replied...
May 5, 2012 at 1:31 pm
Thanks! Whenever I write, point of view is really important to me. I try my best to make the readers feel everything the main character did. Sometimes what people don't understand is how suicide is not sugar coated. It's real. The pain, the agony, the death. I'm glad you thought I did a good job and enjoyed reading :)
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