There once was a boy named Tyler. Tyler was like any other boy; he had all of his senses and all of his limbs. Tyler had a loving family who all lived in a little house in a perfect neighbourhood in a town called Brighton. Tyler loved his dads and his little sister very much, and enjoyed going swimming and biking with them on the weekends. They had a very open relationship, and all seemed to be well. As I said, Tyler was just like any other boy. Until he hit puberty.
It was always his dads’ dream that he would go to an amazing university, have an wonderful career, and have a beautiful family with a husband of his own. Tyler wanted this very much too, but when the time came for teenagers to start dating, he just wasn’t very interested in the other boys around him. Instead, he grew very close to a girl named Whitney. Whitney had a girlfriend at the time, and was only available too hang out with Tyler every other day. The more he hung out with Whitney, the more and more attracted to her he became, until he finally realised that he was in love. How could this be? How could he possible fall in love with a women? Tyler needed to know what was happening so desperately that he made the mistake of talking to one of his peers about it. And just like any glass of water, it takes a single drop for the water to run over the edge.
Tyler went through an emotional roller-coaster over the next couple of months, learning from his peers and from books that what he was called was a “heterosexual”, and was considered one of the greatest sins in their society. Tyler was picked on and bullied; people were writing “hetero” on his locker, on his books, and on his house. His fathers no longer spoke to him, and dinner was no longer a family affair. Tyler no longer had any friends, Whitney was the only person who showed him any sort of compassion and sympathy. She was the only person he could count on, and he loved her all the more for it.
Tyler would never forget the day that Whitney came to school with bruises on her face. Her auburn hair was precariously styled in an attempt to hide the darkened purple skin that framed her green eyes, and makeup to cover her cut up lip. Whitney had been beaten up for fraternising with a heterosexual. Her girlfriend had broken up with her, and one of her mothers had forbidden her to be around him any longer. Tyler saw this, realising it was all his fault, and became a complete recluse. He no longer went to school. He hardly ate. He cried all day and tossed and turned all night. He couldn’t understand why God had to make him different. What was his purpose in life when he would just be shunned by the people around him? Tyler stopped speaking.
Kids started throwing stones at his windows a couple of weeks later. They would stand outside in groups and shout awful things as loud as they possibly could. People had spray-painted the words “God hates heteros!” on the front wall of their house, and broke all of the downstairs windows. For the safety of their daughter, Tyler’s dads’ took his sister and left the house. Tyler was left all alone.
His ex-peers started breaking into the house. Tyler kept his door locked and let them do as they pleased. He was too afraid to leave the sanctuary of his room; the warmth of his covers and the soft glow of the sun keeping him from slipping into the darkness. The loud bangs of teenagers stealing his father’s possessions downstairs became quieter and quieter every day, until eventually they stopped completely. That’s when the tapping on his door started. It started out as small taps, as if a child were bored and had nothing better to do. But as the days when on, the tapping got louder and louder, until is sounded as if the person was banging on his door in an attempt to get in. He flung the door open to make it stop, for the love of God just please make it stop. There was nobody there just Tyler alone in his little house in the perfect neighbourhood in the small town of Brighton. Tyler started leaving his door open. He stared through the door, expecting someone to walk in any day soon.
His house caught fire on his 18th birthday. He doesn’t remember much; just that there was a loud explosion somewhere downstairs and it got really really hot. Tyler wasn’t afraid. Death isn’t what scared him, society scared him. No one would mind if he died right there. No one would care.
The last thing he saw was the angel. With auburn hair and emerald eyes -f- she lifted him up and took him home. And he lived happily thereafter.