“Good gods are scarce because the majority of gods are created by evil men”

― Bangambiki Habyarimana

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"Hey, gay bitch, what's that you're holding?" A large kid said with a smile as he and his friends appeared out of nowhere around me.

I lived too close to the school for me to take the bus, so I would always walk home after school. This meant that Ryan, the large kid, could always ambush me whilst I go home.

I ignored him as I held the box in my hands tighter. It was a gift I received during school from someone very important to me.

Seeing this, Ryan laughed as he hit my back hard, making me stumble forward and drop the box. 

I tried to pick it up, but one of Ryan's friends stepped on my back, shoving me into the cold dirt of autumn. I grit my teeth as the guy ground his foot on my back, but was powerless to resist.

I was 155cm tall, or 5 feet tall, and I was also one of the worst gym students. I could run fast, but I already had trouble carrying all my books. Meanwhile, Ryan was one of the best athletes in the school, being the team captain of rugby. Even his goons were all top athletes.

Ryan picked up my box and tore it open before taking out the object inside, a black beanie. 

It looked fairly expensive, but Ryan didn't care as he teased me, "Huh? What is this? A gay hat? Ew, I don't wanna touch it." 

"Stop, please..." I begged as he threw it far away. Did he listen? Of course, he did not. 

After another round of bullying, I limped away, filled with bruises and scratches everywhere. Luckily, they didn't break any bones, but it still hurt.

Truth be told, even if they bullied me, they knew they couldn't actually truly injure me. My family was rich enough to get them in serious trouble if they went too far.

I don't know if it's true or not, but apparently, Ryan has been accused of murder several times. Some of them were because he directly leads kids to suiciding, and one time, he apparently beat someone to death. 

Stolen story; please report.

After half an hour of searching, I finally found my beanie again. It was dirtied up, but it was still intact. I picked it up and carefully put it back in its box before heading home.

This time, the travel was uneventful. After entering my neighboorhood, I promptly ignored the greetings of the weird old couple that, for some reason, always stood outside watering their plants or just tending to their garden.

Finally, I reached my house. It was fairly large, around 2000 square feet. Without bothering to knock, I entered directly and threw my backpack at the corner of the entrance.

"Welcome home, Lucas." My mother shouted from the kitchen. I didn't answer as I ran straight to my room and locked to the door.

I cleaned my beanie and put it on. It fit me perfectly, as expected.

I was a huge fan of cute hats and clothes, and this beanie fit my tastes perfectly. It was given to me by my boyfriend for our 4th anniversary together.

For the rest of the day, I just played around, texted my friends and watched some Netflix. Of course, I did my homework, or at least most of it. 

Unfortunately, time passes, and soon it was time for dinner. After my mother yelled from downstairs to get my ass down there, I tried to cover up all my bruises, but my mother was quick to spot them anyways.

We were a family of 4. Note the were, as right now, there are only 3 of us. My sister died of cancer when I was 3, so I don't remember her. I only know she was 14 when she died, and I saw some pictures of her holding me.

When my mother saw my bruises, she didn't particularly react, but she still asked. "Lucas, what are those?"

I stayed silent as I ate the pasta on my plate. It wasn't very good.

"Lucas, answer me. What happened." She said in an authoritative tone. I glared at her and looked away, which made my father hit me in the back of the head.

"Lucas, answer your mother. Stop being a child." My father said. I glared at him too but gave in nonetheless.

"... Ryan bullied me when I was coming home." I said. My father just raised an eyebrow, but my mother instantly got angry and started shouting, "That bitch's son! I knew it!" 

After my mother was done in her outburst, my father commented, "It would help if you were... well, normal, Lucas."

I slammed my hands on the table as I shouted, "Fuck you! I get beaten up, and all you tell me it's my fault!? Go die in a fucking ditch!"

As I stormed away into my room, my father shouted in fury, "What do you even think would happen?! You're fucking gay! You should know better!"

I felt like throwing up hearing this. "I'm not fucking gay! I'm transgender, dad! There's a really fucking big difference!"

"It's the same god damn thing!"

"Kill yourself!" I shouted with tears in my eyes. I shut the door and locked it before throwing myself on the bed. 

I don't know for how long I cried there, but when I was done, my eyes were red and I had huge bags under my eyes. Sometimes, I wish it would just end.

It would be a big lie to say I never tried suiciding, however, I was always too scared to truly do it.

I just wish everything would go the way I want it to. Why can't people be nice? Haven't they gotten tired of bullying me yet?

With those last thoughts, I fell asleep on my bed.