HOW TO RUIN YOUR LIFE (LGBTQ+)

1

I've always hated killing flies.

    They're too...squishy. Guts go everywhere. Remains smear on glass and table tops. And they die too fast. One tiny slap from a hand, newspaper, shoe, or whatever you can find; even a hand towel or a piece of paper....

    ...and they're dead.

    I prefer killing insects with a backbone. Like beetles, ladybugs, ants, grasshoppers, or junebugs. And when I say backbone, I mean that in terms of toughness. Bugs with shells and bigger bodies, and a stronger will to live are much more interesting to kill.

    When I was a child, I'd lay down on my stomach in the backyard grass while my siblings played on the swing or climbed trees. With the sounds of their laughter and talking in the air, I'd slowly crush insects to death.

My favorite insect to torture were...ladybugs. I'd gather a group of them and dump them all on a brick in front of me. Then I'd set a flat canning lid that I'd taken from my mom's kitchen drawer on top of them. Swinging my legs cheerfully, I'd weigh the lid down pebble by pebble, watching the ladybugs squirm and struggle to get free. But eventually the weight would be too much for them to move, and their shells would begin to crack. I'd stay there for hours, slowly torturing the ladybugs until they were crushed to death.

    Then I'd do it again the next day.

    With beetles, I liked to pull their legs off and watch them wriggle in agony without any means to move. I loved that part. Knowing that I'd taken away their movement, forever, and there was nothing they could do about it. After I was satisfied with watching them squirm, I'd drop them in a puddle of water and let them drown. Pulling legs off of bigger insects was always a good time.

    Bees were never too exciting, but catching them in jars and shaking them until they died was interesting enough. And with ants, I just loved dumping them in water and watching them drown.

    I never told my parents or siblings. I knew what I was doing wasn't kind. But the overwhelming feeling of joy and power I felt was stronger than any morality that tried to creep into my mind and take over.

    Yes...it seems intense for a child. But that's where everything began.

In my backyard, with bugs.

-

"Stop calling me. Please."

    I blinked, my fingers wrapping around my phone a little tighter, pressing it against my ear a little harder. "Is he with you?"

    My sister, Persia, sighed loudly on the other end of the phone. "He's my husband, Asa. I'm in love with him. I'm not gonna end it just because of a little bruise on a drunk night."

    "Yeah, you keep saying that."

    "Seriously, though. Stop calling me, okay? Or I'll block you."

    The call ended with a 'beep beep beep'. I lowered the phone from my ear, dropping it carelessly on the coffee table in front of me.

    "Your sister?"

    I rubbed my face with my hands, pressing my palms into my eyes, pushing them back into their sockets until it hurt. Then I looked up to Locke and Sterling, my closest and only friends. They were the only ones I'd stayed connected with after high school ended, and we were the only three in our class who decided not to continue into college after graduation.

    And...they were the only two people outside of my family who knew my big secret, and accepted me anyway.

    "Yeah," I muttered. "She hasn't shown her face after that bastard hit her again."

    "That's cuz she knows you'll fuck him up," Sterling snickered, typing fast on his phone, his eyes glued to the screen with a big grin on his face.

    "Who're you texting?" Locke asked, leaning over Sterling's shoulder to look. He made a face and leaned back. "That guy...really? He's fucked the entire town, you know."

    "So?" Sterling asked. "He's still hot, and he likes me."

    Locke shook his head, taking a big inhale from his joint, leaning forward to tap the ashes into a glass ashtray. He looked up at me as smoke curled around his face, filling the room with the smell of pot. "Who's in the basement today, Asa?"