The camera fumbles in my hands and I utter a small curse as it slips altogether falling to the floor. It lands with a dull thud. I hesitate, knowing that if it was broken I would be in a lot of trouble. My hand closes around the cool metal of the camera. It was very crappy and it had taken a lot of effort and money to get, but I loved tacking pictures. I really do. I close my eyes and flip it around. I hoped it wasn't broken. I slowly open one eye and take in the undamaged lens. I open the other and allow a small smile to play across my lips. Thank god it isn't broken.

I spin the camera around in my hands and bring it out as far as my short arms can reach. I straining as far back as I can tilting the camera down slightly. I elevate it above my hand and look into the lens. I wanted to see how I looked. I rarely got to look at the mirror before my two sisters would barge in demanding their time. I smile happily before taking a shot. Enthusiastically I turn the camera around and what from the picture to make its way out at the front. A goofy smile seemed plastered on my face. I was so excited. I stare, watching, waiting for the picture to slowly make its way out of the camera. Eventually it falls free, floating gently to the stained ground. My hands reach down snagging the picture in a strong grip.

The boy in the picture was young, he looked sixteen at the most, but he wasn't The boy was eighteen. His hair was neat, and sat like a curtain on his head, falling down to his ears in fine thin layers. The hair was brown and shinning it looked healthy. I stare at this boy. I actually hadn't expected to see such a lively guy. Healthy hair and my eyes... They were brown, just a normal brown, but the way they shone with warmth, kind of like a caramel soft and welcoming. They were open and friendly eyes.

I wanted to laugh at the joy on this boy's face. Was I actually that happy? It made me happy to see this it made me smile. The boys nose was slightly crooked from it breaking, but that was barely noticed. A warm smile seemed to take up the fram, and as my eyes travel over it, I can't but help to reach up to my own, and run a hard hand over the softness of my lips. They slowly tilt themselves back up. I smile fondly at the pleasant boy. So happy to see something to make my day. A friendly face. Someone I know, and have finally been able to take in. My finger rubs gently on the many freckles that litter my face, they were like tiny specks, I often wanted to cover them up, but right now they just fitted the bubbly person I saw. It was me

The boy in the picture looked very sweet and kind. Over the years I have learnt that is the person I am. People often teased because I wouldn’t bite back at their mean comments, or I wouldn’t hit them if they hit me. I didn’t, and I still don’t believe that that is right. You should only fight if you need to. Fighting should be saved for the worse case scenarios, not for anger or pain, rage or hate. What is the point? I often hear people whispering about me. They all call me gay. But I don’t think the mean it as a compliment. Geees gay means happy, cheerful! They are all obviously stupid if they don’t know that, but eh. I am gay. I like guys. Deal with it.


But the few friends I have say that I am a really decent guy. They call me sensitive and genuine. This makes me feel touched and I know that I am a decent guy I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I would never hurt a person. unless they were total assholes that hurt my family, then they would be a dead bitch, the mother fuckers. When I have friends they are close. My friends and I are so close. We are like glue we know each others secrets and we love to have so much fun together. I’m actually a real troublemaker. It is so much fun. Especially tricking the stupid bullies. But no matter what tricks I play I would never hurt anyone. I couldn’t hurt anyone.

I’m very honest. No matter who it is or what for I will always tell the truth. The truth is very important to me. But even though I’m like this I am also very impatient. I easily get upset, but when I do I make sure I keep it hidden behind a mask if indifference. I never let my feelings play on my face. I’m also really bossy or so my friends say, but to be honest I don’t think I am.

I don’t really know if I like my family. I know my twin brother despises me. He hates me because of who I am. I can’t change it, but he seems to think it is my fault that I am gay. My little brother thinks less so. He is sixteen and I don’t think he understands who I am. My sisters just ignore me. They don’t care they just think of themselves. No wait. Alna is crazy. She has this kind of phobia where she is like scared of her own shadow. In a way she cares only for herself, but most of the time she is just trying to hide from her shadow. I don’t know why my parents adopted her.

All I know is that in my free time I love to sing. I like singing and phototgraphy. They are my two most truest passions. I was so glad when my parents finally allowed me to do singing at school, and then the day they brought my first camera home. It made me cry. My parents are actually one of the most wealthiest families in the district. My father “owns” three of the most important factories in the district. I think I’m a really lucky guy. I have an amazing mother and father and a twin brother I think my parents should have drowned when he was born