His words are lost in the sheer noise of it. He gets up and paces around as he bellows, as if his rage is too wild for him to be still. When he blew up after I went back to school I thought we’d touched bottom, but I was wrong. He’s letting loose with everything now. Freak. Tranny. Faggot. He goes down the list. Worthless. Disgusting. Failure. There’s no end to it. Abomination. Sinful. Unnatural. I’m fighting to become safely dead inside. Queer. Homo. Shemale.
