Letters For High School Misfits

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 1

August 6, 2018

To the next queer kid:

I missed The Academy. It’s been two long, dreadful years since I set my foot on the expensive and well-maintained bermudagrass in this school. I missed the modern interior and architectural design of every hall and establishment in this place. 

The uniform fits funny to me. The suit and tie-slacks are a bit shorter for my physique. Maybe because it’s just the imitation of the uniform that I asked the local tailor to make for me. It’s cheap. Too bad, I can’t use my junior year uniform because every year level in The Academy has a different design and color. The first years wear blue and then green for the second. The juniors wear yellow and our seniors are red.

But so much for that, I am writing to you because I am just like you. Queer. And I know how it feels like to hide in this country where homosexuality is illegal. And to hide like literally from bigger forces I can never control.

It’s been hard, I will tell you. And if you want to know me, I will be glad and sad to tell you my story.

I am the only child of my parents. Too bad I didn’t have the chance to have any brothers or sisters because mom and dad were killed two years ago by an unknown hitman. But I am very sure who was behind with all of it, The Silvios.

The Silvios are one of the most powerful families in this country. They manage and own The Academy. They were the former business partners of my parents in another industry. But for some reason, a reason that I will tell you soon, they had bad blood that resulted in that murder.

Of course, I was hurt and devastated and torn and broken. I am sort of happy that I can now write about this, at least, the pain and wounds of the past are starting to heal. Or maybe I just like to think that.

I wanted to go to the police, but they won’t believe me. The Silvios can control the police. I wanted to seek help from my relatives but I can’t since they don’t want to associate themselves to me because they are afraid that The Silvios will be after to them. Ugh, selfish freaks.

I inherited tons of money and assets but they were gone in an instant after a lawyer came up to me and told me that my parents have millions of debts. So, I have no choice but to give up those.

So, I was left with almost nothing. I ran away. I was broken and had nowhere to go. I was left with a little amount of money that helped me survive a few months. After that, I needed to do illegal jobs and rackets to make ends meet. I don't know if the Silvios are still after me. But thank god, they are not or maybe they still are.

I lived in a shitty one-bed apartment with a broken window and mirror and clogged faucets. It took me months to adjust to a new life. It sucks that I was raised with a silver spoon only to be taken away instantly and was forced to use a rusty spoon, literally and figuratively.

I delivered drugs, but, hey, I never used them. It was a lucrative job. You just need to be street smart and have the balls to brave the dark alleys. Gosh, those memories still creep me out. My illegal drug delivery stopped when pushers and users were busted. Thankfully, I wasn’t there when the police operation happened.

 And when I turned 18, I became a private escort. You know, that someone who would do almost literally anything to a client. You know those things. At first, you will feel the guilt. You will feel that you are such a dirty human being. But what will you do if your stomach is already crying for food? I just take a bath and pray that cheap soap will wash away all the foreign saliva in my body.

Because of my looks and physique, I only escorted rich people, politicians, and other powerful individuals. They like to hide and when they take me, it's almost as if I am hiding. So, I know every five-star hotels, private resorts, and private rest houses in the country. The career, if you may, is lucrative. I was able to taste again the luxury that was taken away from me. Through that, I was able to gather all the necessary funds to help me finish high school. I never feel hungry since then.

So, yeah. If I say that I know how it’s like to be broken and to experience the lowest of the lowest, trust me, I know that very well. I know that dark place. I have lived there for years in that I trained my eyes to see in the void and uncertainty.

I may sound cool right now, but, uhm, I had a lot of battles and wars in my life. Got a few wins, but my scars will prove to you that I am immune to lose. But I will make sure that I will win this important war in my life. 

I am 19 and it sucks that I’m three years ahead of my classmates in my senior year. Now that you know a little bit of myself, let me say this, I enjoyed the first day of my last year in The Academy.

“Hi, everyone. My name is Gabriel S--” I almost forgot that I will not use my true last name for the Silvios not to find out who I am. I hired a local forger of papers to change my name to Gabriel Diaz. Diaz is my mother’s maiden name. “Gabriel Diaz. I am 19 years old. So, yeah, I’m quite ahead of you but I hope we’ll be friends.”

I can see from their eyes that their kinda asking who’s this former out-of-school-youth and what’s he doing here? Well, I got the brains and I earned the coins to be here. Boo-yah, judgers!

Few things have changed in The Academy like the color and interior of the common cafeteria [where expensive foods suck] and other than that, it’s still the same high school my former self used to attend. 

You may be wondering why I still want to finish high school when I can just continue my career as a private escort. I still am, though. It was too risky. I don’t know if my next client is an agent who works for the government and will expose me. I can’t be sent to The Camp. I have heard that it’s a suicide, that no one comes literally alive and ‘alive’ there. You know what this means. I am just good at hiding my identity. They will never know that I am queer.

Also, I enrolled because I still have lots of unfinished business here. Who said that I have already forgiven the Silvios? No, never. They have taken away everything from me. It’s payback time, pigs.

I saw him today, though. He speaks in front of every student in the auditorium. The man who killed my parents, and probably other people, too.

He looks old with these gray hairs and but still manages to look good because of his designer clothes and accessories. But no expensive garment can hide his rotten soul. I almost puke when those spotlights hit his wrinkly face. Uh-oh, time to have your new Botox, Sir. 

His name is Deogracias Silvio, the principal of The Academy. And me being enrolled for my senior year is only the first step of my plan.

But you know what, I will not encourage you to do what I am about to do. I just hope that you know how to read between the lines. My messages are genuine, but I will never ever want you to be in a dangerous situation.

Existing is already dangerous for us. So always be careful. I hope to write to you soon.

Queerly yours,

Gab