Category : Stories

Sub Category : Drama

   I don't remember the exact first time I was told I wasn't accepted by God. I know it was early in my life, because I don't remember a time where I felt actually cared for by this so called all-loving entity. Don't get me wrong, I'm a through-and-through, born-again, 100% faithful christian. I just don't understand why people like me are bashed and hated. So, we like people of our own gender, why is that so bad? Are we hurting people? Are we intruding? Do people feel threatened by us? We're harmless, I swear. At least most of us are. Just remember, it's not a choice. We're born with this, and we can't just get rid of it.

   I sat next to my girlfriend in the last pew. Service was just starting up; the organ was playing, families in clean, pressed dresses and shirts jostled around, gossipping more than high school blondes, and harsh glares met our eyes. I grasped Olivia's hand and stroked it gently with my thumb. She was new to this. 
   Olivia leaned close enough that I could smell her cinnamon toothpaste on her breath, and whispered in my ear, "When do they usually stop staring? It's weird." I laughed and started to twirl a strand of her long brunette hair. 
   "When the organ stops playing and Pastor Joseph steps on stage, they usually stop, but don't be surprised if a small child steals a glance or two during service. It's normal." Olivia sighed and looked straight ahead, her deep red lips twisting in a frown. Chuckling, I rolled my eyes. "You'll be fine, Liv. They don't matter. They're just people. Relax." She ignored me.