On the day my story started no one would have been able to predict the outcome. It was a day like any other and I was a boy almost like any other, I was shy and unsure of myself and what I would be. However, I have come to learn that every person whether they be male or female experiences emotions like that at least once in their lives. Some people even go through their whole lives being unsure and thus never really living or doing what they really feel to be right.

At the time of my story's start I was – almost certainly - the most unsure person on earth. I had never been sure of my position in my family, always looked at as an outcast by them. This was only cemented when my 'parents' told me one day that I was an orphan and that I wasn't really their child. It seemed to please them immensely as they crushed what little belonging I felt. They spoke of how they were glad I was not theirs, that they didn't need to shoulder the burden of a freak child. A child that was too pretty to be a boy and yet not a girl, a child that wasn't smart or sporty. A child that would rather bury their nose in a book than speak to people in the real world.

I've never been a badly behaved child, in fact back when I was less shy and more interested in sports, popularity and girls, my parents always used to praise me for being the perfect child. I never cried as a baby, never threw temper tantrums as a toddler. I was always a quiet observant child, I had eyes that knew too much apparently. My perfection when I was younger was what spurred the hate in my 'siblings'. They were jealous that a little orphan child was more loved than them, when I was adopted they were old enough to understand what I was and where I had come from. I'm sure at first there was a novelty about me, but once that had worn off and I was stealing all their parents love they grew to hate me quite strongly.

I have three older brothers, all of then could be dubbed alpha males and the title would fit them rather well. They were always at each others throats for as long as I could remember, only one thing could ever bring them together. Me. They would always be a united front against me, when they were younger it would be petty things such as blaming me for their wrongs, tripping me up, or hiding my toys. I was only young and they were a minimum of five years older than me. I didn't know what I had done to deserve their wrath. I had no idea I was adopted, all I ever did was look up to them and aspire to be like them as all little brothers do. As I got older the ganging up got more and more cruel and eventually very violent. That's when I decided to go on into my own world, I knew they were jealous of me and so I became everything Mother and Father hated. I just wanted my brothers to like me, I 'turned' into a recluse and a loner. I soon became this, all for the love of my brothers. It didn't work, not at all.

After that everything went downhill in my life, my brothers being alpha males meant they could sniff out weakness. They soon started targeting me in a way that would scar me for life. It started off reasonably harmless, with just a few jokes here and there, them calling me queer and the like. Soon the whole school was calling me gay. Nasty things were painted on my locker, sometimes nasty things were shoved in my locker. One day I came into school and when I opened my locker condoms fell out, it had been completely filled with them, some of had even been used. That particular incident may still be spoken of to this day for all I know. It wasn't only emotional bullying, the type of 'sticks and stones' bullying, no, it was violent too. Sometimes the whole school would gather round to watch people beat the life out of me, it became a school event like watching a sports match. Very few never participated and no one had ever not witnessed a beating, I don't blame people. It was a small town, if anyone ever rebelled against the mold that dominated unless they wanted to end up like me.

I could no longer attend sports class, every time I attempted to I got my worst injuries. Who would want a queer in the male changing rooms? My grade point average went down sharply after that, the teachers didn't try to intervene. The thing is, even though I was girly looking I wasn't homosexual. I had never felt one thing for a guy other than the admiration I had once felt for my brothers. I didn't particularly like girls either though, I was only sixteen at the time so I figured that those type of feelings would develop with time. It was around that time that I discovered the joys of books, I found they could take me to a time or place where there was no pain or taunting for me. One day I could be living in the sea with merpeople and the next I could be discovering the joys of the universe. I read everything and anything, it didn't matter if it was fact or fiction, I would just devour the words and take myself to a different place.

So books are also the stem of where my story began, books and the longing to be in a totally different place. My story started with a musky smell and dusty pages, bullying, and longing for love.

An ordinary day...