15 for 15 Contest --- Closed

The taunts had haunted him throughout his childhood. Every change of school, every promotion in grade, the same wretched voices remained, screaming at him on the playground, sneering behind his back among the lockers, whispering about him during AP classes. He was girly and gay; he was fruity, a faggot, a frightening monster. But then there was the word that stung most of all, that cut him to the bone, because before they'd said it, twisting its syllables up in their own snarling mouths, he had loved it so:

Fairy.

For years and years he ran from the word, but it plagued him; it was perpetually nipping at his heels, always found in a dark corner of the apartment building or of his mind, waiting to drag him back down.

Until, one day, it didn't anymore.

When the sun rose he found himself frozen in bed, helpless against the bright light shining through his window. The word was still on his mind, having just woken from a dream where those same high school bullies morphed into the co-workers who had pranked his desk for April Fool's Day with a pair of bell-bottoms studded with Lady Gaga stickers and a dildo in a most inappropriate place. They had screamed it at him again and again, fairy fairy fairy fairyfairyfairyfairyfairy, until the word became nothing but a series of sounds, meaningless, unable to hurt him.

Behind him had sprouted two glorious white wings, each one dusted with a glittering sheen of pride and power. Even his hair had grown longer, shoulder-length, the way he'd always dreamed it'd look best but had never dared to do, lest every person he passed on the street know who he was. How he was.

But in the dream, it didn't matter. He was powerful, accepted, for the first time in his life, a beautiful fairy who fit right into the role he was always meant to play.

When he finally found the strength to get out of bed, he propped himself up, legs hanging over the side of the bedspread. "Fairy," he whispered, his voice stronger than he could remember. For the first time he could recall, he didn't recoil at the word. In fact, he almost...liked it.