Chapter 7
I remember the day pretty vividly too, because it was the day right after the damn incident, and he looked so fucking scared. It was a far cry from the confident and the hilarious character he always put up. In turn, he had heavy, dark bags under his eyes that seemed like he was carrying the entire weight of a generation on his shoulders. His clothes were rumpled, and he looked like he didn’t get any sleep last night, or rather, for the past couple nights. His hands were trembling with a furiously silent emotion, one that looked like it could break his composure like glass.
It was after school, and I found him like this at his usual haunt in the library in a secluded corner.
Originally, I had gone to the library to return some books, but once I saw him sitting in his corner, I decided to go and say hi. And when I got there, it was like a fog of depression had settled over that entire section of the library. I almost suffocated in the teardrop permeated air.
“Eryk?” I said softly, as I let my backpack drop with a gentle thump to notify him of my presence.
“Merci?” He whispered back, and his voice broke.
“Hey,” I spoke rather urgently once I realized something was indeed wrong. “Hey hey. Are you okay?”
“No.”
I winced.
Usually, whenever I asked that question, no one really gives negative as an answer, because everyone was so caught up with the fact that everyone had to control their emotions, and that guys weren’t allowed to show emotions.
I honestly should’ve expected Eryk to say no, because he just didn’t give a crap about that kinda stuff. He was honesty just that cool.
“Well.” And I chose what words I said next extremely meticulously. “What’s wrong?”
And he went off.
“Did you hear about the Orlando Gay club shooting?”
I nodded.
In any case, he didn’t even let me finish the motion as he blitzed over it with a surge of emotion.
“That’s so fucked up! Just because we’re different, you decide to murder us? That fucker didn’t just kill gay people; he also killed brothers, fathers, sons, and uncles. He didn’t just harm the LGBT community, but also the families. Like what the actual fuck?! Why can’t people just accept the fact that we’re different from everybody else?! Difference doesn’t mean negativity, or being inferior to someone. Goddamn it! Fuck God! Why the hell did He have to write that shit in the fucking Bible anyway?! I mean, if it was him that fucking made me you might of thought he wouldn’t have me gay! Fuck Him! He doesn’t deserve the fucking love of millions of people! He’s just a lunatic, just like that fucking shooter from yesterday!”
He started sobbing then, like horrible, heart wrenching sobbing. And all I could do was awkwardly pat him on the back in a measly attempt to comfort him. In reality, I had no clue on what to do, because I wasn’t part of his niche, and I didn’t really have a right to say anything. However, I admired his spirit even more, because he still sounded defiant through all odds, even when such a terrible tragedy had just happened.
And my HSP started kicking in, and I started to emphasize with him.
That’s the thing with HSP; I’m always able to see a story from each person’s perspective because the empath in me willed it to be.
And I started getting the full picture of Eryk’s emotions.
He was a Christian, before this, well at least, his family was and they made him go to church every other Sunday. He had taken it, because no one had commented on his sexuality, although I wasn’t sure if anyone knew that he was gay because he told me even his brother didn’t know. This, I thought was odd because he was usually so damn confident, and aside from that little slip up, no one had really commented on his sexuality. Eryk was young, and I mean he was super fucking young. He was technically a 14 year old in sophomore year because he skipped a grade.
With all his talent and all his confidence, I thought he was like almost like Cyrus in a way.
However, like Cyrus, they were both young and less knowledgeable around the world, no matter how intelligent or hardworking each one was.
I don’t think Eryk has ever seen people actually killed for being gay, and maybe a part of his sheer confidence resulted in that. And it was a terrible thing for me as well, watching someone you thought was infallible get broken down to some heaving mess that was sobbing almost uncontrollably.
I knew I felt anger at the time, but anger at whom, at where or at what, I didn’t know. Perhaps I should’ve been angry at the shooter, and a part of me was I believe, but the HSP part of me told me that he had his own side of the story.
I decided to be angry at God of all a sudden.
At church, they teach you that God is perfect in His creations, and that he was the most perfect being as he willingly gave life to us, and that is why we should all love Him and His path for us. I remember one time, when I went to church, the pastor was giving one of those sermon things you’ve probably only seen in movies.
Great, big chandelier, lots of hymns and humming, the works.
And he said, “You know what I love about the Bible- my favorite line? Trust in the Lord with all your heart, do not lean on your own understanding. And He will make your path straight.”
I couldn’t believe in God after that.
I mean, who else could we trust but ourselves? You can’t just simply take something at face value and just think that it works without any type of proof. I mean, there was that person that claimed vaccines give people Autism, and that was completely inaccurate. If he was God, were we just supposed to believe Him, and not take vaccines for the rest of our lives?
And what of the hatred of homosexuality in the Bible?
Were we supposed to trust in the Lord, and stone homosexuals to death every single time we see one?
Hell no.
Fuck no.
I don’t think I believed in God ever since, and I certainly didn’t go to church anymore.
No.
Fuck Him.
Fuck Him.
Fuck him.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and focused back on the present. As much as I disliked God and His teachings, I guess I still sort of respected Christianity. I mean, most Christians I met were nice people, if a little too quick to believe a book paraphrased 1300 years ago. They were misguided in my opinion, but fundamentally that made them sorta nicer in a weird way.
God and I have a very interesting relationship.
It was summed up by The 1975’s song “If I Believe You.”
Honestly, Matty Healy was a lyrical genius to the highest caliber, not because he was good at rhyming or rhythm, but because he was so real with his lyrics and he somehow still made it sound amazing at the same time.
I’ll be your child if you insist.
I mean if it was you that made me you probably shouldn’t have made me atheist.
I’m a lesbian kiss.
I’m an evangelist.
And if you don’t wanna go to hell then Miss, you better start selling this.
Words to live by, really.
“Eryk,” I told him softly. “Listen to me, everything’s gonna be fine. You’re stronger than this.”
He mumbled something incoherent underneath his breath.
I cocked my head, confused. “What?”
“My brother’s the strong one.”
‘What?”
I was confused.
“MY BROTHER’S THE STRONG ONE.” He screamed at me, and I felt as if every eye on the library fell upon us. I didn’t get what was happening, and I think that at the time, I didn’t realize that the conversation shifted to a tone 30 degrees darker than the one we had before, and that was saying something.
“I lied to you.”
I was even more confused.
“Both my parents are dead. I don’t have any parents. I live with my brother, who’s 18 and trying to take care of both him and I, and we don’t hav
e anyone else. He has to take care of me, a gay person that doesn’t even deserve to be alive, and I’m such a burden to him. No matter how hard I try in school, no matter how much I try in life, I just can’t! Why am I gay?”
His voice was quiet when he said it -a mere whisper that could’ve passed off as a floating wind chime, or the sound of sheer depression.
However, to my deafened ears, it was the cacophony of war.
I dropped my pencil and gaped at him.
I was horrified.
As much as I sometimes despise my parents, I couldn’t imagine them dead.
I didn’t know how to comprehend the situation. He must’ve never told anyone this before, because it looks as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he looked younger, like the 14 year old boy he was supposed to be, and not the seasoned veteran he appeared to be.
The way his shoulders rose and fell in hectic sobs, the way he had his usually so strong posture broken down, well, I almost didn’t know what to say. The death of an idol; that was the situation that I felt myself in. And I lost myself to that.
I wanted to cry as well, Goddamn it.
Eryk had been one of the strongest people I knew, and seeing him being broken down like this, well, it was mind boggling. He represented everything that I admired, and everything that I’ve ever wanted to be in terms of willpower, he was just as cool as Claire.
I couldn’t even imagine how he was still this strong, because if I lost both my parents, and I was homosexual in a world that superficially accepted it, well I’ve damn near have lost my mind. I would’ve snapped from the pressure of just everything.
And with this, a new found respect, one that was higher than any previous one that I had, went out to him. William still managed to keep that smile on his face, and that drive that he kept in his heart. Even throughout all of that, he still managed to function normally and better than normally as well.
Eryk was a superhero.
I didn’t say something to him. All I did was just put a hand on his shoulder, and I gripped it firmly, like I was clutching at a life line because I knew that he needed one.
I knew that he didn’t want me to pity him, because he didn’t need my pity. He just needed a crutch to lean on in order to get back to his original self. In a moment, we would pretend like this didn’t happen. In a moment, we would pretend like nothing ever happened, and that he was still the strong individual that I knew he was. In a moment, I would pretend I never saw his tears, and he would pretend he never shed them.
Everything would be fine, and I would respect him all the more.
Anyways, I focused back on the present, and before I knew it, it was already night time.
And we were back to the norm.