{"sf1_id":244988,"sf2_id":"GnDB0vPe","title":"A Queer Life","author":"Revresbo","words":1071,"posted_at":"2011-04-30T08:22:00.000Z","tags":["Bisexual","Fox","Highschool","M/F","Sad"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/244988-a-queer-life","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/GnDB0vPe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/3c/5e/3c5ea24e-118e-4432-99d9-790b4cf48b0b","description":"","content":"You'd think there would be a limit to how many tears you can spill in a given time.\u0026nbsp; Perhaps there is, but the quota seems to be higher than should be possible for a fox.\u0026nbsp; Over the course of my life, I've probably cried my body weight in tears, and I'm only sixteen.\u0026nbsp; Physically, I was your typical fox.\u0026nbsp; Red fur, black socks, amber eyes, a lithe body, long tail, standing about 5'2\".\u0026nbsp; I used to be typical for mentality and emotions, but the past few years had made life hard for me.\u0026nbsp; Even my parents treated me worse since I came out.\n\nI had reason to cry often enough, and this time, it was because I had been beaten up--a fairly common occurence--and locked in a locker at the high school I went to with the promise of being freed in a hour, after school.\u0026nbsp; I knew better than to make noise to attract attention.\u0026nbsp; The teachers might let me out, but they wouldn't care too much, and the students would just laugh at me.\n\nIt would be easier to bear if I had even one friend, but they had all abandoned me at fourteen, when I came out.\u0026nbsp; I didn't even have a sibling to rely on because I was an only child.\u0026nbsp; My parents tolerated me, but no longer showed any particular warmth.\u0026nbsp; I was alone, a freak, an outcast, just trying to survive each day without getting severely wounded.\u0026nbsp; My grades had fallen along with my social standing, giving the teachers more reason to look down on me.\u0026nbsp; Most days, I wondered why I bothered getting up in the morning.\u0026nbsp; I should have never admitted it.\u0026nbsp; After all, I was bi, so I could have just pretended to be normal.\u0026nbsp; Everyone ignored the fact that I was attracted to both, though, and just called me queer.\u0026nbsp; It was getting harder and harder to bear, and I found myself considering taking over the recommended dose of my sleeping pills each night.\n\nI had no way to measure the passage of time in the dark locker.\u0026nbsp; I could feel my fur matting on my face as I silently cried, although the tears eventually stopped.\u0026nbsp; I knew they'd be back at least once before the day was out.\u0026nbsp; Ever since my fourteenth birthday, I had cried myself to sleep every night.\u0026nbsp; I had stopped journalling, too.\u0026nbsp; It was too depressing.\u0026nbsp; I let my tears write the story on my pillow as I hugged a stuffed border collie doll close to my chest.\u0026nbsp; Not even my parents knew I slept with it.\u0026nbsp; I didn't need to be ridiculed for being childish as well as my sexual orientation.\n\nFinally, the bell rang.\u0026nbsp; I would be free soon.\u0026nbsp; I heard students in the hallway, opening the lockers next to my cell.\u0026nbsp; Eventually, the noise died down, but I wasn't worried yet.\u0026nbsp; The bullies wouldn't open it with everyone there.\u0026nbsp; I silentlyh counted the seconds.\u0026nbsp; One minute... two minutes... five minutes...\u0026nbsp; I lost count at around 400 seconds.\u0026nbsp; I was getting worried.\u0026nbsp; I wouldn't be locked in here all night, would I?\u0026nbsp; I was on the verge of tears again when the lock spun and the locker opened.\n\nI was cramped up from my imprisonment and fell out of the locker.\u0026nbsp; They let me fall, laughing as they closed the door.\u0026nbsp; I got a few kicks for good measure before they walked off.\u0026nbsp; \"Fucking queer,\" one said as she walked away.\n\nI slowly picked myself up and went to my own locker to grab my stuff.\u0026nbsp; I had been in the locker since lunch, which amounted to about two and a half hours.\u0026nbsp; I grimaced as I worked out the cramps and readied myself for a long walk home.\u0026nbsp; I had missed the bus, but I usually walked anyway to avoid the stares, namecalling, and rolled up pieces of paper that were hurled at me.\u0026nbsp; It took me around an hour and a half--just enough time to get home to eat before spending the night in my room doing homework and surfing the net on my computer.\u0026nbsp; The internet was my only refuge, the only place I could find others like me.\u0026nbsp; I stayed up for hours sometimes, escaping from my harsh reality.\n\nI fiddled with my tail as I walked, a nervous habit.\u0026nbsp; Once in a blue moon, I would encounter a group of kids who would have fun beating on the queer kid.\u0026nbsp; The most embarrassing time had been when the group of about a dozen twelve year olds ganged up on me and brought me down.\u0026nbsp; I had endured even more abuse for a month after that for being a weakling who couldn't even fight off elementary students.\n\nThis time, I got home without incident.\u0026nbsp; I made quick work of my dinner (spaghetti and meat sauce) and went to my upstairs room, locking the door behind me.\u0026nbsp; I quickly stripped out of my sweat- and tear-stained clothes and sat myself, still naked, at the computer.\u0026nbsp; I signed on to the internet, and let out a sigh.\u0026nbsp; I was free--free to be myself without ridicule.\n\nI quickly opened a chat window with Fiona.\u0026nbsp; She was bi, like me, and a fox, like me.\u0026nbsp; She was my one good friend whom I could talk to about anything.\u0026nbsp; Unfortunately, she lived about a twelve hour drive away, so we'd never met in real life.\u0026nbsp; I did my best with just words over the web, but I wished we could actually hug.\u0026nbsp; I was starting to develop feelings for her, and I suspected she had some for me as well.\n\nShe asked how my day had been.\u0026nbsp; I told her about the locker incident, and she quickly gave me a virtual hug.\u0026nbsp; Even those three letters could make me feel a little better.\u0026nbsp; She had a better time than I did because her parents supported her, but I didn't begrudge her that.\u0026nbsp; I didn't want anyone to go through what I had to deal with.\n\nAll too soon, it got late, and she had to go.\u0026nbsp; I stayed up another hour, reading stories and looking at... art (cough cough).\u0026nbsp; When I finally went to bed, I could feel the tears well up as I held my plushie close.\u0026nbsp; As always, I silently asked God, _Why couldn't you make me gay like everyone else?\u0026nbsp;_ With thoughts of Fiona filling my mind, I drifted into fitful sleep.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}