Siavush Zartosht D6 {Done}

Siavush Zartosht

Siavush Zartosht
Seventeen
Male
District Six

Run away from me because everyone else does. Don't talk to me because nobody wants to be around me. Leave me alone in the corner because it's easier that way. I'm all alone. Nobody wants to be around me because they think they'll catch a disease. A contagious disease. My own family doesn't want to be seen around me. It used to break my heart, but it doesn't bother me anymore. People want me to change for them. I shouldn't have to change for others. I should be accepted the way I am. I don't want people to be afraid of me, but most people are. I believe that there's the right guy out there for me. A guy that will love me for me. If you haven't figured out by now, I'm ridiculed for being gay.

Appearance

I stare at a photo of myself. I'm standing with my entire family. We all are extremely happy. I was actually happy. We were all happy. I'm about ten years old. I stand about 4'11" tall, and I can't weigh one hundred pounds soaking wet. I have no muscles that stand out, but it doesn't matter. My hair is clean cut. My hazel eyes are glowing with happiness. A huge grin is plastered to my face. My pearly white teeth shine brightly. I didn't have to worry about anything. I wasn't afraid to be around my parents. They loved me. I wasn't treated differently. They actually loved me. I didn't know being interested in other boys was wrong. I didn't know it was against human instinct to be gay. I didn't have to worry about anything.

I shred the photo into several tiny pieces. I walk over to the open window and throw the pieces. The wind carries the pieces of the photo that holds the memories away. I slam the window shut. I stare at my reflection, my identity. I've grown nine inches bringing my height to 5'10". I've put on forty pounds bringing my weight to a grand total of one hundred forty pounds. My dark brown hair is extremely messy. I don't try to tame it. I let it run wild. Like the disease that runs wild inside me. I don't comb my hair. I don't use any grease or anything in it because my hair defines me. It conceals my identity. It makes me who I am. "Siavush, do something with your hair." My mom begs, but I always shake my head no.

My dark brown, bushy eyebrows are far from being tamed. Tiny hairs point in every direction. My angular, hazel eyes are hardly noticeable. My eyes are usually glossed over. My pupils are usually dilated hiding the hazel that surrounds them. The whites are stained red from the constant high I'm on. If I'm caught on a down, the Blue-gray iris with hints of green and yellow make the emptiness of the pupil less noticeable. My bony facial structure brings out my high cheek bones, and my nose the most. I hate my nose. I hate how it has a pointy tip. I blame my father. I have his nose. Right below my nose is a tiny mustache that causes my top lip to be the center of attention. My lips never form a smile. My lips always keep a straight face hiding my true identity. Hiding the pain I live everyday.

I don't have the muscles everyone wants. I have some muscles, but it's nothing to be proud of. I'm built for speed. "My name is Siavush Zartosht. I am who I am, and I won't change for anyone. Go ahead and reject me. I'm not the one losing." My voice is cold, and harsh. The coldness of my voice echoes throughout the room. I've stopped trying to make my voice innocent because I am not innocent anymore. My clothes are ragged. I don't care what I wear anymore. My mother does't care what I look like anymore. If she's stopped caring, why should I care? I'm a disease she doesn't want to be around. I'm a disgrace to her. I disgrace the Zartosht name. If my mother wants me to be a disgrace, I'll drag down the Zartosht name with everyone knowing, I'm a disease that's contagious.

Personality

Dirt, scum, trash, ignorant, trash are a few names I'm used to being called by others. I have yet to find anyone that respects me. I'm always being left in the corner hunched over hiding my face because I know if anyone sees me they will laugh at me. "Look mommy! It's that guy!" Everyone around me starts pointing and laughing. They don't realize what they are doing to me. They don't realize how much it hurts to be ridiculed. The sound of whispers fill the room. I can hear the occasional laugh. Rage mixed with pain builds up inside me. I can't take the people making fun of me. I'm an outcast that nobody wants to be around. They want me to bend to their will, but it's not happening. Respect me, and I'll respect you.

"Don't go near him honey. He's contagious." How the fuck is being gay contagious? Parents teaching their children it's wrong. I've been told it's wrong to be gay. My mother always told me it was wrong, but I can't help who I am. "Men are supposed to be with females. Females are supposed to be with men. Men aren't supposed to date other men, and females aren't supposed to date other females because it's disgusting and gross." I'm ridiculed enough at home. I shouldn't have to be ridiculed by others. My family does this to me. I just wish someone would understand me. I'm tired of lurking in the shadows hiding from everyone, but the moment I step into the light, the whispers start, and the laughing begins. "I'm not a disease."

I'm afraid to be around others. I want to be alone locked in the closet away from everyone. I'm safe by myself. I'm beat down by everyone. My family bashes me everyday. "Siavush is gross. Siavush is disgusting for liking other men. Siavush doesn't belong in this family. He's disgracing us." I hear them talking in the other room. As soon as I walk through the door, they look at me for a second before turning their gaze elsewhere. I hate them. I hate everything about them. I wish they weren't my family. I wish I was born to a different family. A family that would accept me. "You could at least have the courage to bash me to my face; however, you choose to be cowards and bash me behind me back. Some family you are."

I don't need them. I don't need people to knock me down over and over again. I'm not going to change who I am to please others. I have to be happy with my life. I have to be happy with myself, and I am happy. I'm happy be alone constantly. I put a mask on hiding how I truly feel. I'm tired of being made fun of, and sometimes I wish I would die. Death would be the perfect escape for me. Siavush, can you take a joke? We were only joking." A joke? This is all a joke? I can tell by my sisters tone of voice it isn't a joke. Something inside of me snaps. "A joke? I don't fucking think so. You all bash me every day of my life, and you except me to believe it's a joke? I don't think so! Stop trying to sugar coat it! You aren't making it better! I'm bashed everyday by complete strangers! I don't know who any of you are, but I do know you aren't my family!"

History

I was born seventeen years ago to Mrs Parisa, and Mr Kaveh Zartosht. They had a son that was born sixteen months before me. My older brothers name is Shahnaz. We were born close together making it hard for our parents to raise us. Apparently I cried a lot, and I wouldn't sleep. My parents took turns watching over me. One would stay awake while the other slept. I was a torturous child. When I was three, my mother, Parisa, gave birth to my younger sister, Mahin. I wasn't sure how to act as an older brother, but Shahnaz taught me well. He was my older brother, so he knew what to do. When I was five, my mother gave birth to a set of twins, Arezu, and Parastoo. I knew how to be a big brother then. I didn't need Shahnaz to teach me anymore.

We lived happily as a family. I started school, and I enjoyed chemistry. The subject of chemistry came naturally to me. I loved working the mathematics formulas. I thought the history of Panem was fun until I heard about the Hunger Games. It definitely is a punishment I hope I never have to participate in. I sit in history class watching people make friends with each other. I always knew I was different, but I could never figure out how. People would stare at me for no apparent reason. I wanted to make friends with them, and I tried to make friends with people, but out of everyone in the class, the girls were the only ones that talked to me. I didn't click with them. They would laugh and talk to me, but it didn't feel right. What's wrong with me? I asked myself over and over again.

I turned twelve, and I found myself looking at men the way I've seen women look at men. I would imagine myself being with them all the time. I went to ask my mother about it. I wasn't sure how the conversation would go, but I had to try. "Mommy, what's the definition of dating? I've heard people talking about it in school, and I was curious." I was never good at starting conversations. This was better than jumping in and asking if it was alright for me to date a guy. "Dating is between a man and woman. They go have fun, and they could possibly end up married." I turn my head slightly and stare at her. That wasn't what I wanted to hear. "What if a guy wants to date another guy?" My voice is quiet. "That means he's gay, and being gay is disgusting." My heart dropped.

"So, your saying I'm disgusting?" My voice shakes. I'm unable to keep myself steady Tears form in my eyes threatening to fall down my face. My heart races under my chest. I knew as soon as the words slipped past my lips, I asked the wrong question. I can tell by the way my mother looks at me. Her lips was once forming a smile turned straight. "Y-you like me-wait what?!" She sounds in shock. She stumbles over her words before a loud, shrill sound escapes from her mouth. Leaving her tongue like a dual sword piercing my chest. "I will not have a gay son!" She screams as loud as she can. My father and my siblings run into the room. "You are a disgrace!" I stormed out of the house as fast as I could with a river flowing from my eyes. She doesn't love me anymore.

I turned fifteen. I was tired of dealing with everyone. My family disowned me. I became an outcast. They didn't want to be seen around me. "He has a disease that's contagious. That's why he isn't with us." I remember my mother saying this. I was ten feet behind her when she said it. I'm a disease that nobody wants to be around. I might infect them. I turn and walk the other way not wanting to bother them. It's best for me to go away from them and never turn back. I went through a dark alley with my head hung. "Hey kid." The voice startles me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I start looking around to see where the voice came from. "Over here." I cautiously walk over to him. Smoke blows in my direction, and I knock it away by waving my hand. "Want one?" He holds out a pack of cigarettes.

I took the cigarette from him. He lit it, and I started smoking. It made me sick at first. I started hacking up my lungs, but I finally started to get used to it. It took about a month to build up the tolerance for it. I became addicted. I started looking for ways to find cigarettes. I needed them. They helped me feel relaxed. I was happy when I was smoking. I walk through that alley again hoping to find the guy I had talked to, and I'm surprised when I do. "Hey kid, I see you've returned." At first I want to run away, but I hold my ground. "I have some other things you might want to try." A grin grows on his face from ear to ear. I look at him confused. "What do you have? I need something to help me. I need something to kill me." My voice slices through the air sending chills up my own spine.

"You better not let a peacekeeper find you with them because they are illegal. It'll help you feel better, but you didn't get them from me. These will be free, but next time you have to pay." He hands me a box full of items. I nod my head at him and walk away. I walk to the end of the alley before I look through the items. Alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, lighters, everything I need to survive. I carry the box home. I'm careful to lurk in the shadows so nobody sees me. I have enough supplies to last about three to four months. I take a cigarette out of the pack and light it as I walk home. I wonder what my parents will say. I slowly shake my head. I will not allow myself to think like that. I'm not under their control anymore. I don't care what they say because to them, I'm just a disease.

I'm seventeen now. My life has been wasted by believing my parents would eventually get over the fact that I'm gay, but they never have. They will always hate me. I've turned my life into drinking, doing drugs, and smoking. It's the only way I feel safe. It's a way to relieve the pain without doing anything extremely stupid. I lurk in the shadows away from everyone because I'm afraid of being tortured for being some kind of sick disease. "I wish everyone would realize I am a human being, and I'm not a disease. I don't have anything that can be spread. I'm gay, not sick. I look forward to the day I get to move out of my house. I look forward to finding the perfect man for me. I know I have one out there. I just have to wait until he's brought into my life. I'm gay, and I'm proud.

oDair

Narration 5c4136
Thoughts C9B3A8
Hearing AF8A77
Speech 7C6658
(Other D7BFB3)