Post by ryker jamie smith; on Dec 11, 2011 14:58:30 GMT -5
RYKER JAMIE SMITH, 20, EYES OF HYSTERIA- VOCALIST, GUITARIST, BISEXUAL, OPTIMISTIC When I was a young boy, My father took me into the city... Okay, quitting with the joking. I'm a happy guy, right? All positive, all the time? Its a shock I'm like this. From all the hells I've gone through, you'd think I'd be a pessimistic bastard, who should have been scowling in a corner. But I try not to. You see, dear old Mom walked out when I was the mere age of four. That left daddy to dealing with little Ryker- he didn't mind. He loved me a load. I was his son, his flesh, his blood. He was pretty easy going, but there was one thing I hated. He was so strictly religious, it wasn't even funny. Yeah, maybe I was raised like that, but it wasn't my thing. I was the kid who knew like, six thousand different instruments. Music was basically my faith. He didn't really mind, and he still forced me to learn the ins and outs, and life was pretty good. Then I hit fourteen. I had my first girlfriend, and I ended up breaking up with her because she was out making out with some kid on the football team, standing me up, and acting like nothing happened. I immediately went to one of my closest friend. At the time he called me Peace-Kid since I suppose I looked like a generic old hippie. I didn't mind. I honestly had no clue what happened that night. We were just talking, and he had placed his arm comfortingly around me... then his lips descended on mine and that was that. I was bisexual, as simple as that. Though, not soon after I found out I should keep that little fact to myself. You see, I lived in a little southern town that wasn't even on the map. The population was roughly that of one New York skyscraper during lunch hour. So you figure, things spread fast, and when parents hear about it, someone gets killed. I guess people found out I kissed a guy, how, im not sure, and it spread crazily fast. My dad came to me, rather enraged, and asked if it was true. Of course I lied, but then the worst came along and bit me in the ass. I was in the process of losing my virginity, and good old dad walked in, home early to surprise me on my fifteenth birthday. The second he saw us he went on a rampage. He threw my best friend out of the house and screamed so loud I felt like my eardrums would bust. I fessed up quickly, telling him what had happened in the past few months, that i had lied, and then he smacked me. I literally saw stars. He had never placed an ill hand on me, so fear brimmed over and I disobeyed him, not staying in the room like he wanted me to. That just led to him causing several other bruises across my figure. The next day when I walked into school, people stared. My excuse was simply falling down the stairs. My friend knew though. He knew exactly what happened, and confronted me about it. I told him not to worry about it, and it literally shattered our friendship. He wanted to help me, I rejected him. He backed off, and we haven't talked since. Dad continued trying to make me more “man”, since I was a complete faggot in his eyes, and I just continued rebelling. This is what I was, if he didn't like it, I didn't care. I kept on the track of music, however, convinced that it would be involved in whatever I ended up doing. He didn't like that either. I brushed it off, and although he'd physically hurt me, I'd just attempt to not let it mess me up mentally. Stay positive, I begged myself, its the best you could do in the situation. After a while, I found a band and became the lead singer, and honestly, I don't think, to this day, anyone but Dad, my friend and myself know I'm bi. I keep it hidden, every once in a while dating a girl just to cover the fact up. I'm straight. I gotta be. I'm not that confident in myself, although I fake having confidence. I'm also good at giving advice, although I really never take my own advice. Its really, really stupid, but I don't care. This is who I am, and no one can change it. I guess I do miss my mom, I mean, I don't really remember her. But I do remember that she adored music, maybe as much as me. I guess that's my way of holding onto her. FLEA, 15, AIM/PM |
