FicWad

SUNDAY, JULY 26, 2009 2:38PM CST

I’m back!!! Sorry for the long wait, everyone. I was depressed for a while and lost my writing mojo. After attending church for the second week in a row after an absence of nearly three months, I’m feeling better. We almost lost our house last week and still haven’t much food, but I’m doing okay. I’ve been slacking on responding on to you all’s email and YT messages. I apologize. I hadn’t been myself as of late, so I had to go “be emo” for a while. While I was “emoing out”, I came up with sooo many great story ideas. I’m back now, feeling a little better, better emough to write. Thanks to everyone that made the the preview of Preview: Mean Guyz the Featured Story about three weeks back, and for making Mikey and the Skittles Adventure the Featured Story for this week!!! How do stories become featured stories, anyway? Well, however it goes, thanks for making happen and thanks to Kemayo for building FicWad. This is waaay better than Quizilla. I promise to finish all of the current stories I have up here, and then work on the ones I promised, such as The Birthday Party (NC-17), more My Chemical Childhood stories (G), as well as Bob and the Dooliemarr (which goes along in the category of /Mikey and the Skittles Adventure/, and there will be a story like that for all five MCR boys.) I will not promise that I will be here, but I truly feel I’ll be updating for a while. I fall off the face of the earth for about three months, then come back chock-full of ideas!!! Praise be to God!!! WOO! :D

I can’t believe Mikey and the Skittles Adventure is the Featured Story on FicWad! This is the second time I’ve had a story be the featured story on FicWad!!! How does that happen? Can someone tell me? I’m really curious!!! If someone knows, just tell me in a review. Thanks to whoever made Preview: Mean Guyz and Mikey and the Skittles Adventure a Featured Story!!!!! This is going to look so good when I submit for publication and it’s all thanks to you guys!!!!!

I have to give credit to my best friend, Yaoi415 (who's little brother, Diego, 19, is in the hospital battling a potientially-fatal, flesh-eating disease and has to have multiple surgeries and will be hospitalized for almost a month and she's been up there with him 24-7, being his nurse and taking good care of him--but just the same absolutely terrified that she's going to lose her favorite brother and brother in general--, please keep them both in your prayers and wish Diego well, he's a great kid), for coming up with the title of this story and basically inspiring me to write it; her fanfics can be found on www.fanfic.net. I also have to give props to my other best friend, shehadtheworld12 for telling me about FicWad in the first place. I also have to thank the boys and wives of MCR for encouraging us to use their likeness to write even if it creeps them out most of the time. (lol :P)

You guys should really check out Oh Baby! by shehadtheworld12. It’s about the guys being pregnant, and it’s too bloody damned funny!!! Seriously. You’re going to be in stitches. It’s her first try at alternate universe, and it works great. Gerard and Frank are totally OOC and it’s HILARIOUS in this case!!! Please, you must check it out. I’m begging you. It’ll leave you adorably paralyzed.

I’ll also be working on a story called Who Killed Alisha Cole? It’s going to be my first mystery/suspense/thriller, so stick around for it. Who Killed Alisha Cole? Will be listed under the appropriate category. (Just to let you know, Alisha is very dear friend of mine and is the epitome of sweet. (You have to meet this woman to believe me. She’s so sweet you’ll have to see it for yourself. And I love Mrs. Cole for that! Anyone upon meeting Alisha will understand why Phillip married her.) I love her so very much, and am taking the liberty to clear up any misconceptions that may arise. I do not wish to harm or kill Alisha in anyway, nor do I wish this upon her, just in case she, or her awesome husband and my boy, Phillip, come across it. I simply chose Alisha because she seems like the perfect type of person to portray in a story of that genre. In a morbid way, that’s sort of a compliment. Aside from which, Phillip wouldn't let that happen to Alisha anyway. Go ahead and try it.)

And now, without further ado and after, I present to you the long-anticipated chapter 1 of ‘Mean Guyz’!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKZ YEAH, MAH NIGGAZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ~mr gayestgoth.



P.S. Before reading this, check out Preview: Mean Guyz in my story index and get a taste of the trouble Ray gets into.













“Here’s some money for your milk. You can ask the big kids where to do that.”
“If you need anything, you know where we are; we’ll come pick you up if you need it.”
“There’s a juicebox in you lunch in case you decide you don’t want milk. It’s strawberry Juicy Juice, your favorite.”
“Oh, and here’s our phone number in case you forget it.”
“Are you ready?”

I stood up. “I think so.”

Dad smiled and tapped the camera around his neck, then lifted it to take a photo. He grinned, one eye squinched shut behind the viewfinder.

“It’s Rai’s big day.”

I posed, smiling.

FLASH!

I rubbed my eyes, blinking at the temporary blindness, as if the bright sunlight wasn't enough. The wind ruffled my hair for a second, then stopped. Mom put her arm around me as Dad motioned for us to get together for another picture. Mom smiled, the camera flashed, she burst into tears, the camera flashed again, this time taking a photo of me making a face because I was being squeezed too hard and Mom crying. Her stubble was scratching my face. She hadn’t shaved yet.

Dad took another picture. Yellow and green spots began dancing in front of my eyes. I tried to catch one.

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Dad said.

“No, I can go by myself.” I said.

I totally know what you’re thinking. That I’m, like, five, right? Actually, I’m 16, and today is my first day of school. Well, technically it’s my first day of mainstream school. I was home-schooled up until this year when we moved back to the states. My mom got a break from the schools she works for, Grayvonhalley University here in Alexandria, Louisiana. Grayvonhalley transferred us to live in Lake Charles, Louisiana. I’d be going to a school named Alfred M. Barbe High, Barbe High for short.

See, my parents are both zoologists. Both my mom and dad lived in North Africa for my entire life, studying animals and the cultures there. Sometimes we’d come back to the states to visit, but never very long. While I was in Africa with my parents, I had to be home-schooled.

Even though I was in a different country, there were a bunch of laws saying that I still had to maintain a regular education and earn a diploma or GED while my parents studied. Because I have dual citizenship, American laws still applied to me even though I was in another country. It’s a bunch of legal jargon.

Whatever.

Another thing you may want to know about my parents is that they’re transgender. Transgender means you were born biologically as a male or a female, but you mentally feel you are the opposite gender and identify with the gender you feel appropriate. I’m not transgender, and I think my parents are both a little disappointed about that. Technically, my mom was my dad and my dad was my mom.

I’ll go into that later. As I was saying…

Like sometimes, my mom’ll say something like, “Rai, honey, are you sure you don’t want to wear a skirt out to dinner tonight?” Or my dad’ll be like, “Rai, it’s perfectly fine to love others the same of your gender. It’s just not okay to have sex with them, because the Bible condemns homosexual acts.”

I always shake my head at that one. I’m studying the Bible, and I’m trying to figure out how God allows a man to love another man but He doesn’t want those two men to have sex with each other. Sex is love, right? And God wants us to experience love, right? I’m thinking that if you’re gay or something, then maybe you should just wait till you’re married to have sex. (Granted, the Bible is pretty clear about homosexual acts, telling us to not participate in them at all, but that’s just my theory. God knows what I’m doing and I’m really trying my best to follow Jesus and all that stuff, but it’s hard, because I get really horny sometimes and I just want to fuck, you know? But I’m waiting till I’m married for that, mostly because if I give myself away now, I won’t have anything left for my wedding night for my wife. She’ll be getting damaged goods, and whom the fuck wants damaged goods? I know you’re supposed to hate the sin, not the sinner. That doesn’t mean you should hate yourself if you’re gay or queer or whatever, but it just means you’re imperfect and God doesn’t hate you, just the sin. My family is very Christian, but not in the fundamentalist, khaki-wearing, polo shirt-sporting, Bible-thumping, all-fags-are-going-to-hell-type.) I mean, that goes for all people, gay and straight. Having a domestic partner is the same thing as being married, it just isn’t heteronormatively labeled as marriage, but it’s the same thing.

I haven’t found the answer to that one yet about God and the whole gay/queer thing, but I’m going to keep searching for an answer until I find it.

Anyway, I think my parents are majorly disappointed that I’m a heterosexual guy, which is basically a paradox if you think about it. Most parents in Western civilization (and other civilizations, ask me, I’ve so been there) are hoping their kids don’t come home and say, “Mom, Dad, I’m gay,” or “Daddy, I think I like girls,” or every parent’s nightmare (and my personal favorite): finding that magazine of nude men crammed between the mattress and the box spring of the bed of their of their only son.

Ha ha. (Seriously. I love that.)

I get it the other way around.

“Mama, Daddy. I have something to tell you: I’m straight.”

Mom falls to floor, on her knees, tears streaming down her face, crying out to God, “Why? WHY?!!!”

Dad kneels down to comfort my sobbing mother, murmuring to himself, eyes widened and crazily shaking his head. “Where did we go wrong? Where? We were good parents. We gave him everything he ever wanted and then some. I…I just don’t understand. Where did we go wrong? Where? WHERE?”

Story of my life.

That didn’t really happen, but that’s how it plays out in mind sometimes.

“Rai, we’re here.” Mom’s voice wakes me from my daydream. I look out the window, then stepped out of the suburban. There were so many…people. I’d seen people before, but not this may people my age and most of them had white skin. I’ve got white skin, but after living in North Africa for sixteen years, you get used of seeing certain things. South Africa is where the white people live. And my parents almost, like, never went to South Africa.

Some of the youth were running around, screeching like the animals my parents used to film. One girl (I think that’s what she was anyway) was stomping out a flaming book under a tree. She was surrounded, like, by a bunch of hooting guys, sort of like they were animals watching a fight or something.

I clutched my lunch bag, standing across the street. My heart was beating out of my chest. My mouth was turning wet and dry at the same time. I felt like I had to fart, but nothing would come out. I could hear the indistinct sound of my parents talking, but I wasn’t listening to their words.

I clutched my anal muscles inward and squeezed my buttcheeks together. God, what the hell are you doing to me? I said to God in my head.

I turned to my parents. “I’m going now.”

Mama and Dad had their arms around each other, smiling proudly, and a little sadly, at me.

I guess after having me around for sixteen years, it was going to be pretty hard for them to let me go. Me and my parents are, like, really really really close.

I stood at the street corner, then stepped out. The moment my foot touched the concrete of the street, a school bus zoomed past, nearly running me over. My mom let out a startled scream, her face twisting in rapid fear, while my dad shouted, “RAI!”

I reflexively jumped back, more concerned about my lunch, thinking about how I wouldn’t’ve had my Juicy Juice, because I almost dropped my lunch out of fear and it would’ve been smooshed into the ground because that stupid bus would’ve hit it.

I turned around, taking a deep breath. I smoothed my puffy, wavy hair. I turned to my parents, who now had tight, forced smiles pasted onto their faces. “I’m okay,” I said to them. “I’m okay.” I said it again, this time more for myself.

Well, I had almost gotten myself killed.

I crossed the street, then dug into my pocket for my schedule. I pulled it out and unfolded it, reading the top. “Raimond Manuel Toro Ortiz.” It was scrawled in pencil.

So many people mispronounce my name when I write it down, prouncing it like “rye” as in the bread, which I don’t care for but I still eat it sometimes. It's pronounced like "Ray." My whole name is sometimes said as “Rye-mond” by incompetent persons. Well, perhaps not incompetent, but you know what I mean. I blame my parents for that one. It's Raymond. And whenever someone does say it it right (which is basically, like, um, let me think...oh yeah, um, like, never), they think I'm a girl because it's spelled R-A-I. (Which I'm sure thrills my parents, and I bet they spelled my name like that on purpose for that very reason.)
Plus, my last name was entirely too long for my liking.

I looked up at the all the youth running around, then back down at my schedule. I took a pencil out of my pocket and began erasing. I knew once I brought to the counselor's office, that's how they'd enter it into the computer. I turned the pencil around and wrote in the space.

From then on, my name would be Ray Toro.













Rate and review, folks. I know it’s been a LONG-ass time since I posted, but I haven’t forgotten what’s most important on FicWad: 3R. (Read, Rate, Review.) You guys make me what I am, and I appreciate and treasure you all ever so wonderfully, and I’m glad to know my work entertains you. It’s good to be back. ~mr gayestgoth (4:11pm CST)

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