Prove

They thought I didn't notice the whispers. And the sniggers.

I pretended to not notice. But each whisper ate into my brain. Each snigger tore into my heart. And each glance filled with hate tore into my soul. 

Yet, I continued to walk on. It's not as if I could do something to change it. I was just as helpless as them to do anything about it. 

It's just that They didn't know. 

Afterall, they did not understand who I was. Or what I am. 

I cursed myself. Never my parents. But myself. 

I had lost faith in the power above. I had long lost faith in human beings. 

But I did place faith in a few people, after all, what dork wouldn't have a few dorky friends? 

And as I walked towards the cafeteria, all I wanted to do was turn around and flick everyone off. I wanted to scream out at the top of my lungs, to prove to them that I was stronger than they thought I was. 

I wanted to prove to them that if they faced what I faced on a daily basis, they would want to kill themselves. A friend had. 

I wanted to prove, that I was just as filled with emotion as anyone else. 

I wanted to prove that just because I identified as gay, I wouldn't hit on you. And I wanted to prove that just because I was gay, I wouldn't rape your boyfriends. 

And I wanted to prove that being gay doesn't mean that you can cut me out of society. 

I wanted to prove that I was a human being, before anything else. 

The chance always eluded me. Poor, old me. Poor, old Sam. 

And now as I lie here, the blood flowing from my wrist and the pills eating me away from inside, I finally felt I didn't have anything to prove. 

Tomorrow, I wouldn't be judged. Tomorrow, I won't have anything to prove. 

Tomorrow, my parents would be beyond grief. 

Tomorrow, my friends would be crying. 

Tomorrow, he... 

Tomorrow... 

Fin.