Shame

Tom wanted to have his first kiss. Tom met with a friend one day and they walked by the water. Tom's lips met his friend's on the fifth of October in the year 20XX. Tom wished to feel that again, but his friend refused, on account of a feeling of discomfort. Tom and his friend avoided each other after that point. Tom didn't have that friend anymore, but. Tom did have friends; they just did not enjoy his presence. Tom was abrasive, crude, judgmental, and everyone knew it, however. Tom maintained a steady heart and a loyal mind and a caring soul, which his true friends valued more than his shortcomings. Tom thought of himself as being real and upfront. Tom thought of himself as being. Tom never questioned his actions towards others.

Tom, wanting to feel a lip's embrace again, on a day just as brisk as the fifth of October, scheduled to meet with a stranger from another country on the same day as his best friend Mikayla's birthday party. Tom said to Mikayla, "omg I cannot wait for you to have your party!" Tom said this in response to Mikayla saying "I'm so excited for my birthday, my nana's coming to visit from Iraq for the weekend." Tom made plans with the mysterious Stranger to meet for that very weekend, while Mikayla's Nana suffered delays coming to America because her Visa expired. Tom approached Mikayla with exciting news: "Ok, guess what. My mom is not letting me go this weekend. She needs me to stay home and watch my brother cause they're both going to his parent-teacher conferences." Tom quickly answered Mikayla's disappointed sighs with frantic reassurance that they would do something again sometime to celebrate. 

Tom, on the day of the party which was the twenty-fifth of November, scurried through NJ Transit to meet his Stranger, and Mikayla sulked after learning her Nana could not come to the United States in time for her birthday, and Tom's parents were off at parent-teacher conferences. Tom's brother sat at home, wondering why, within the past two days, his parents decided to go to parent-teacher conferences, because before they had spoken to Tom on the subject earlier that week, they had no intention of going.  

Tom traveled through wind and rain, until he met his knight in shining armour at the Newark Broad Str. train station. Tom ran to the other side of the platform to meet his lover, and. Tom found himself looking into the eyes of a golden-haired Adonis gentle-tall-man-child. Tom heard words spill out his mouth like honey "Wanna go hang at my place?" Tom saw Adonis take a hit of something that smells real good. Tom "Yes" said, unaware of the words' order he was saying. Tom walked side-by-side with Adonis, who groped Tom's back and ran his tender fingers over to Tom's. Tom was dropping hints to Adonis of what he wanted to go down; although, hints may not be the most efficient words for what Tom was attempting to do. Tom and Adonis approach a quaint string of apartment complexes. Tom saw Adonis holding the door open for him, what a gentleman he thinks. Tom saw the inside of Adonis's apartment, dripping in erotic blue and red lighting. Tom felt a sensation run through the nerves in his spine and his heart. Tom felt pressure behind him plunging deeper and deeper into him. Tom then fainted to the ground, with a knife in his back.

…

Tom never died. Tom liked to imagine the worst to be prepared for the worst, and yet ironically, Tom was never prepared in his imaginations.  Tom did travel through wind and rain. Tom did get off at Newark Broad Str.. Tom did meet golden-haired Adonis gentle-tall-man-child. Tom did go out on a café dinner date with his newfound lover, and the two share a kiss as they depart right to Adonis's doorstep, after a journey of Adonis shuffling him in through uncrowded streets and up the stairs past the lady living with Alzheimer's the floor below. Tom asked Adonis if his neighbors will hear, to which Adonis replied, "They'll hear; they just won't remember."

Tom did see the inside of Adonis's apartment, but instead of dripping with saturated colors, it was dimly lit with faded lamps and the ceiling lights that haven't died yet. Tom shut the door and immediately began the devil's work on Adonis, who grasped Tom by the sleeves and dragged him to the bed. Tom had sex. Tom was happy. 

…

Tom, the reality is, wanted to feel loved and adored. Tom missed the days of his youth where his family would bounce him and clap for him and cater to him, and the days of his adolescence where his friends would make fun of him and laugh at him and talk about him behind his back. Tom loved the attention so much, he nearly cried every time. Tom longed to be coveted by strangers.  

Tom did see that Adonis had blocked him on every social media, but this did not bother Tom. Tom began to prowl from Adonis to Adonis, to Connecticut, to New York, to Massachuessettes, to wherever Tom wanted to be at the time. Tom would meet with an Adonis, spill out his guts through his words, flash some eyes, get confused looks, get fucked, and get blocked. Tom believed anything he said would be powerful, since he was so coveted, so it held no matter to him whether he talked about how he hated the band on the shirt of Adonis #8 or about how ten minutes is enough time so let's just "grab and go." Tom's focus was linear and direct, no bullshit. 

…

Tom, on a night just as dark as the fifth of October of 20XX, returned home to an empty house with his brother passed out on the couch. Tom reminisced so hard and so diligently on why he was in so much pain, and why that pain was inescapable. Tom remembered all the times where things avoided going his way. Tom remembered the mental distress he was in when he would have to sit next to anyone smelly at the lunch table. Tom remembered not being able to rest his mind, because he had some form of ADHD, self-diagnosed. Tom remembered when he asked his dad what would happen if he crushed on a boy in the children's choir, and his dad told him "you're not gay, son" "why not, dad" "I know you, I know you're not gay." Tom remembered shoving sand into his fiery lust for boys and coal into his not-so fiery desire for girls. Tom remembered when his dad reprimanded him for not trying his damndest at having a girlfriend "why aren't you asking a girl out by now? I don't want a nervous kid around here" "i don't want to, dad" "just let go of your nerves, don't think too much, and if you keep having problems, you're gonna need a sex specialist, ha." 

Tom thought about what his dad would think if he knew about all the Adonis's with whom he had been making sweet, sweet love. Tom didn't have to ask. Tom thought about what he, himself, thought about all the Adonises with whom he had been making sweet, sweet love. Tom looked at his brother asleep on the couch. Tom's brother always did look more like his dad than Tom did.  Tom, watching the rise and fall of his little brother's breadth, felt overcome with shame. Tom, thought, what am I doing with my life and with myself? I am a wretched monster, fuck. Look at him. He already has had two girlfriends. For that reason alone, he'll live a life I will never be able to live. He'll grow up and be charming and sweet, and I'm gonna be a fucking monster in his forties who posts jock strap pics on Twitter and who stalks minors on Instagram and who's delusion is more inflated than his beer belly. Tom exhibited an acute understanding of his delusion at the time.  

Tom felt shame's embrace once again. Tom could not explain why he felt so disgusting, but he felt as though he was covered in something that could never be washed off. Tom, that's called sin! Said Angel Gabriel from up high. Tom replied internally, "I don't believe in that shit, Gabriel." Tom, after making this snide remark, heard Angel Gabriel whimper away with his horn, muttering something about how the Promised Land wasn't made for faggots.

…

Tom, after the Angel Gabriel left him for the hounds, wondered what his hell would be like. Tom dreamt about it that night. Tom imagined feeling a sharp burning everywhere on his soul's body, forever doomed to be pig-roasted above a skull-adorned cooking pot. Tom could feel pins prodding him somewhere, especially near his pubic areas, and yes, one enormous metal bar, with spikes, 7" thick, no less, that held him in place by eternally fucking him. Tom went through every circle of hell, where he found acceptance among the hands of the damned, all while being fucked by a spiked metal bar larger than a human leg. Tom opened his heart to Francesca and Paolo and lamented over his Fortune with the Great Latini, all while they got whipped around and suffered fiery rain trying to listen to him. Tom was generally compassionate and understanding to most of the sinners down there, even the Ninth-Circle Club, but. Tom, when crossing the Eighth-Circle Loose Bandits Choir, spat upon the evil barrators whose power grows rotten from their greediness and strong ability to deceive. Tom, at the end of his journey which took place through countless cold nights not unlike the very night of the fifth of October, received a personal gift from Satan himself. Tom opened the package to find a hair-care set, an infinite Starbucks gift card, a fucking skinny piece of fabric that was supposed to be an outfit of some sort, a pair of white Converse, a belt, a pink studded butt plug, and a note that said "see you in hell, boy."

Tom, the next morning, awoke from his journey in a cold sweat and rushed off to school. Tom, there, met with Mikayla and his friends at their usual spot in the courtyard. Tom brought them all their favorite Starbucks orders. Tom, after giving away the last drink- a venti water to Kat- saw the conversation going comfortably, which bothered his need for constant entertainment. "Tom, do you want to use your computer for the powerpoint?" said Mikayla "Sure, doesn't matter to me, hey, hey, guess what I did last night… wanna guess?" to which Mikayla mustered all the shock and interest into a reaction for news that was neither shocking nor interesting. Tom thought it was, hence Tom thought it was interesting to his friends. Tom saw Kat roll her eyes and said, "what… what? I just was having some fun" to which Kat said, "you're gonna get an STD one of these days" "oh, I probably already do" "that's… that's something." Tom heard Mikayla say "you're such a slut."

…

Tom had always thought about STD's. Tom made sure that Adonises wore condoms. Tom always asked Adonis's if they had anything lurking in their immune systems. Tom realized that he did not take into account liars, but how could someone lie about such a thing just to get an orgasm? Tom, even then, knew it held no matter. Tom was careful enough. Tom, truthfully, could not remember if every Adonis wrapped his pecker, but he swore that they all did. Tom, eager to prove his friends wrong, bought an at-home testing kit for a grab bag of STD's. Tom snuck past his parents, who were discussing plans for his late Uncle's funeral. 

Tom flew the bathroom door closed behind him and opened up the test case, which emitted ominous electromagnetic waves. Tom discovered the box further, until he understood every edge. Tom read the instructions carefully. Tom, going through what he was about to do in his head while reading the instructions carefully, found himself opening tubes and inserting things into his mouth. Tom felt, reminded of the scenes where cancer patients hear the news for the first time. Tom, in his bathroom, saw a doctor emerge from the shower, coming from a Planned Parenthood Testing Center, saying "bad news, good news" "I want the bad news first" "there is no good news" "I have it" "The test results came positive." Tom then saw IV stands where the towels once were hung. Tom did see, through the slip under the bathroom door, cards coming in clumps of ten or more from classmates, teachers, and family— all signed "Love" or "Your Friend." Tom carefully read each one, so moved by the prescribed words from people who had no genuine words to say to him, that he stood in kinetic stillness.  Tom did feel the virus weighing down his timeline. Tom did not linger in the euphoria of reading compassionate sentiments, because Tom realized that for his entire life, he would have to suffer even more heartbreak and even more rejection because of his condition. Tom did lie down helplessly in the hospital bed, while his friends were playing golf and going to Europe. Tom did see the reds and blues whirring by his hospital window. Tom saw his life, in reds and blues and yellows and browns, flash before his eyes.  Tom, also, sat on the toilet looking at instagram memes, and he could hear his heart pounding.

Tom, despite what he saw in visions that night, was able to go to his friends the next day, a day much colder than fifth of October, with the results.  Tom said, "I tested myself last night" "is it chlamydia or AIDS?" "what- neither- I'm perfectly healthy" "what a surprise." Tom, then, for reasons unknown to his friends, began to recount his dream, lavishing over his descriptions of raining fire and flying demons. Tom, lost in the tide, kept painting with his words, and his friends listened in awe of the magnificent sights he had seen. Tom, this one, at least, they enjoyed. Tom placed such meaning behind every word he said, but much of that was lost. Tom, they thought, just had a cooky dream, and how cooky it was! "Wow, maybe this is God talking to you" "How many gay people were down there?" 

Tom could only be appreciated by a select few at his school.  Tom found that they could put up with his antics, partially because they recognized parts of him in themselves.  Tom, they appreciated, but they guarded their hearts from any strong feelings of friendship, in protection against his sporadic behaviour. Tom received their occasional praise, which was more readily available than their love and attention. Tom redeemed himself when he lit his friends on fire with his words, so they could feel something.

Tom told his story as well as he could. Tom left out Satan's departing words. Tom, also, left out the part where he would have told them the truth— that he tested positive for HIV. 

…

Tom needed to go to a testing center to get a more accurate description than his at-home results. Tom, maybe, had a false positive. Tom, perhaps, had only gotten a stray HIV in his gums. Tom felt, almost certain, that he had a creature crawling around inside him. Tom fell down the stairs. Tom bolted to the door. Tom looked for the car keys. Tom couldn't find his keys, and his dad, sitting in an armchair in front of the TV, began to take interest in what his son could possibly be doing. "Tom, where are you going?" "to the store I'm picking up peanut butter, do you need anything?" "No, have fun." Tom raced off to a Center. Tom took care to dispose of his at-home testing kit in a trash bag that was just about to be put outside.  Tom exited the driveway and rode off.

Tom's mother was a curious woman. Tom's mother knew every inch of the house better than every bone in her body, along with everything that entered and left through any orifice. Tom's mother, therefore, found herself piqued to see a curious package inside the trash bag that was ready to go out. Tom's mother opened the package, and thought something of it, for it was unlike anything she'd encountered prior. Tom's mother politely nagged her husband about what it was, and her husband apathetically explained that he had no idea. Tom's mother took out a Post-It Note, wrote "ask Tom about this" with a blood-colored sharpie, and attached it to the frame above the front door.

Tom returned home from the clinic later that afternoon with a single jar of peanut butter in his hands. Tom, as he entered through the front door, ran headfirst into the Post-It Note, after which it stuck to his forehead. Tom's mother saw the Post-It Note—scribbled with red chicken-scratch—attached to his forehead, and was reminded of what she needed to ask. Tom's mother asked about that thing in the garbage. Tom would have used his tactics of situation disarmament, but his building nerves overcame his composure. Tom tried to remove the Post-It Note from his forehead, fluttering frantically like a bird caught in a drainage pipe, by saying "it was nothing, mom, why are you going through the trash." Tom excused himself and fluttered upstairs. 

Tom's mother was a curious woman. Tom's mother felt a mystery brewing inside the package, and intended to uncover the truth. Tom's mother resigned herself to the kitchen, where she unloaded the package and its contents. Tom's mother, upon opening the HIV testing kit, immediately put everything away just as quickly as she had opened it. Tom's mother's heart stopped. Tom's mother's curiosity's velocity halted. Tom's mother was overcome by emotion. Tom's mother miraculously saw with such precision exactly everything her son saw that cold, cold night in the bathroom. Tom's mother felt the coldness of every night to come, knowing her son had something terrible inside him. Tom's mother's emotions could not lead her to investigate the package any further. Tom's mother did feel that she needed to go to the source and set things right.

…

Tom's Mother creaked open the door to her son's bedroom and poked her head into his life. "Tom, hello, how are things?" "Good" "Hey, I have a question for you." Tom appeared frozen, but inside his mind was buzzing. "Tom, honey, that thing, that was in your bag..." "Yes, it was something I was playing around with" "I know what it is" "Well, then, what?" "Are you ok?" "I feel fine, but I guess my T-cells can't say the same" "Is there anything I can do?" "Pray? it's what you do best" "How- if you don't me asking- how did this happen?" silence, "Hun, I just want to know how this happened? Was it- someone at your school? Were you experimenting with heroin or something? When did this happen? Why- why weren't you safe? How could you not have known? I don't understand; did you forget? Were you careless? Who was this with?" "I don't know, I don't want to talk about it." Tom's final words on the subject were followed by his mother's reassurance that she was there for him, no matter what. Tom thought, what a shame that I will never be able to tell her what happened or how it did.

Tom's mother, soon, was not the only one that heard the news. Tom's friend, Mikayla, would have the truth explained to her a few days after. Tom sat her down in a quiet corner of the school, away from any recognition: the back wall of the cafeteria. Tom sat her down. Tom told her that she could not tell anyone what he was about to say. Tom's friend laughed herself forward with vigour and excitement. Tom's long episode of silence and his inability to start a sentence distinguished such fire.  Tom's friend's face melted into concern, sadness, shock, and despair. Tom, after finishing, sat with his friend in a silence, so powerful, that drowned out the noise of the surrounding cafeteria.  Tom's friend, in her mind's eye, saw the entire school move as a unified colony of mechanic ants. Tom, Mikayla, and all the students were a bunch of souls robbed of their humanity, lolling around a container until they were let out. Tom's friend's shoulders drooped upon staring into the death that was in Tom's eyes. Tom's friend froze. Tom's school continued forth, not knowing and not giving a single damn that Tom, himself, was damned to journey through cold and rain to his death.

Tom, in biology class, saw in the projector lights the all-holy Angel Gabriel, swirling around a pink-studded butt plug. Tom then saw the board ignite into fire as the Angel Grabriel threw the plug onto the professor's drawing of a leaf.  Tom murmured "Fuck you" under his breath. Tom's labmate got up and asked the professor if she could move her seat. Tom's professor heard Tom's remark and asked him to stay after class. Tom's class ended. Tom's teacher summoned him and his labmate. Tom's teacher said, "Tom, that behaviour is not ok, apologize to Pacifica-Lonalee right now" "Sorry, Pacifica-Lonalee, I was having a delusion; death is coming for me." Tom's teacher excused his uncomfortable student, and ordered the other to visit the school's psychologist. Tom agreed, but never went.  Tom's teacher felt he did the best he could do. Tom's lab partner, Pacifica-Lonalee, never spoke to Tom after he cursed her out of BIO 202.

…

Tom told his dad he was gay, make him take the frustration so I don't have to. Tom made sure to leave out the information that he had met up with strangers online to have sex and contracted a sexually transmitted disease that caused a dangerous pandemic, largely having to do with on lust and homosexuality. Tom could bear that weight on his own.  Tom, on a night darker than any night before, felt he had told everything he could, when his family sat down at the dinner table to eat dinner in solemn silence. Tom's father interrupted the static with a statement. "Tom, I gotta say, we love you." Tom's mother's spoon stopped between her table and her chin. Tom's mother glanced towards Tom "I told him, mom." Tom's father responded with "Yes, and quite frankly I'm ok with it." Tom's mother's face became extremely red. "You mean, you're ok with this?" "I don't see why it should bother us" "You're ok with our son having his life cut short by some.. Virus?" Tom wished his life could have been cut short at that very moment.