I grew up in a loving household. My grandparents were always there for me, they cared when no one else did. I would say that I was pretty lucky to have them, they were like foster parents to me, there to replace what I lost at a far too young age. I don't remember my parents, one tends to have issues recalling memories from that early on in their life. It almost makes it easier not to care, almost. I often wonder how different it would have been had they stayed alive long enough to see me say my first words, take my first step, ride my first bike. Would they be proud? Probably, that's a normal parent thing to do. I know my grandparents were, they were always proud of me, it made me feel special, it made me feel like a star. In their eyes I most likely was. They taught me how to play all sorts of varied and wonderful instruments, from piano to guitar to violin to tuba, I knew it all. It comes naturally, they would always say, that musical essence. It's what I'm destined to do. Teachers were also impressed. A child in fifth grade writing songs and poems, what a gift! What a skill! He should perform at the talent show! He'll do great. And I did. I did better than great and it made me feel special, it made me feel like a star. My glory didn't last too long, however, because when you're good at something there's always gonna be someone wanting to drag you down. Check out this dork! Thinks he's gonna get somewhere in his life with those prissy little songs, bet ya didn't even write them yourself, you're just stealing credit from others! Are ya gonna go home and cry to your granny ya scrawny little fag? It would always end the same way, being battered and bruised all over and shoved into a locker. But what could I do? Nothing, I just always took the beatings as quietly as I could. They'd find a reason every time and I never said anything. Until one day. I was surrounded on all sides, they were much bigger than me and larger in numbers than usual, I'd be knocked out for sure, most likely end up with some broken bones. Then I did something I thought wouldn't really help my situation, I began to sing. It was shaky and quiet at first but got stronger and higher in pitch progressively. It was certainly...odd. As I looked at the boys around me they seemed almost, docile? Their eyes blank, empty, postures not exactly relaxed but not in an attacking stance either. The were like zombies, and I just kept singing. It made me feel special, it make me feel like a star. It made me feel powerful.