Laughter

I’m 19 years old and going to college at LIT in Beaumont, TX. I have a relationship with the most beautiful person in the world. He just happens to be a man. One night, a year ago, after my classes I was on my way home. Now I usually have one of my friends drive me or I take the bus. However I chose to walk that night. Because that night was special. I had just told the love of my life, for the first time, those three precious, yet almost insignificant, words: “I love you.”

However, I was so absentminded in this ecstatic moment that I failed to pay attention to my surroundings. I let my guard down for the briefest of moments and this allowed two assailants to brutalize me. I blurred many times between the points of consciousness and comatose from the various punts to my head, the multitude of shuddering cracks that accompanies broken ribs, and the thunderous pop that indicates a joint dislocation.

They realized that my body had gone limp and there was no more “sport in beating on a quiet faggot.” I thought they would leave me to die on the sidewalk they had began their attack on… I was wrong. One chuckled and said “I know what’ll make his day.” They lowered my pants and began to take turns violating me. I screamed. I tried to kick, claw, squirm, bite, and punch. But my body had given out on me. I cried as they laughed.

When they had finished and left, I convulsed feeling the pain in summoning up tears and coughing up pools of metallic tasting blood. When I finally had enough strength to stand without falling I made my way to the police station located on campus. Not my dorm. I wanted the police to catch them. I walked on my own two feet for what seemed like an eternity. Keeping their bodily fluids inside me. Feeling disgusted, like garbage. The police had only one response to my accusations: more laughter.

It took me a week before I told my boyfriend about the attack. He cried… making me cry. Worst of all, in his grief, he apologized for not protecting me… making me cry again. I’m not one of those strong/dignified/amazing people. I can’t simply wake up, forget, and put a smile on my face. I still take two showers every single day to wash their drunken, hate infected aroma off my body.

However thanks to my friends, family, and the most wonderful man in my life I have learned not to let the mongrels of the world win. My advice is not only to the gay community but also to the straight communities. You have it in your power to help us… young men and women who have experienced what I have. I beg you, GIVE A DAMN! Help all those that remain silent, those that do not write their stories. They can hear the laughter… and if they can hear I know you can.