[Contest Entry] Coming out of the Closet
4
[size=12]Well I had some free time so I figured I'd throw something together. 837 words of pure spur of the moment.
I hate the holidays. But it wasn’t always that way. Way back in the day, I was just another Christmas happy kid jizzing his pants in anticipation of all the goodies I’d be getting. As I got older, though, I changed, and those around me failed to keep up. For starters I picked up a couple of, shall we say, hobbies? that I was forced to keep secret by an old-school Christian father (he slept with a god damn bible under his pillow) and a mother who expects Asian grades out of a lazy white boy. The rest of my family isn’t much better: needless to say having all of them stuffed into our family home for two weeks every winter does not leave a lot of private space or private time. And so comes yet another holiday season of “joy and cheer and unstoppable capitalism” while I pretend—always pretending—to be something I’m not: normal.
To back up a little bit, when I was 13 years old I watched my first anime on CartoonNetwork. Neon Genesis Evangelion, every Saturday at 11 o’clock P.M. Let’s just say I was infatuated, and as one of my good friends likes to say, I became an in-the-closet weeaboo. What started with dubbed animes late at night turned into watching them online, often for hours at a time. I slowly grew more and more into anime, that wondrous portal to worlds I could only dream about before. Eventually I got to my teenage years, got a job, and started buying paraphernalia from my favorite animes, hiding it wherever I could find space.
Things seemed all well and good, for a while. That is, until I hit puberty. Suffice it to say that mixing a fifteen or sixteen year old boy’s sex drive with a growing anime obsession (full of beautiful girls, seemingly perfect in every way) created quite the hentai freak. I spent hours bouncing from site to site, 4chan’s /h/, whatever video’s I could find on Redtube and of course Fakku. Keeping this “ultimate sin” from a father who was sure to castrate me if he found out and a mother who was prone to psychotic panic attacks when imagining me doing anything but studying is difficult year round. During the holidays, with so many more potential landmines surrounding me and encroaching on my already limited free-time, it was nigh impossible.
And so it came: winter break 2009-2010. My parents were off at the airport picking up one set of relatives, another was in the car on the way to my house. Each and every one of them another disaster waiting to happen. I figured I had an hour to hide every anime related item in my possession. I set to the task with gusto usually only seen when a child is forced to consume their own excrement.
Later, when I was satisfied that everything was safely stowed away, I paused to consider my behavior for the next couple weeks. Cheerful and loud? Quiet, yet content? Should I play with the smaller kids or hang with the adults? Yet, even through my mental planning session, one piece of me just shook it’s head in disgust. That part, I realized, was me. Not the facades I assume for my parents or family. Me as I actually am. The part that wanted to scream “I masturbate to drawn pictures of little girls!” I resolved, then and there, to stop hiding the truth.
“Fuck it” I said, “I’m going to be who I am and to hell with everyone else.”
So I marched (it feels good to march when you’re doing something important) up to my room and removed certain pieces of my anime collection out of the hiding spots. Then I walked downstairs, got some chocolate ice cream, and sat in my favorite chair near the front door. Eventually, my parents walked in the door with my Uncle, Aunt and two young cousins.
“Dad, we need to talk.”
My mother, bless her soul, shuffled everyone else into the kitchen. My father however, gave me a look I’d never seen before: part confusion, part challenge.
Instead of explaining everything there in the foyer, I dragged him up to my room where my favorite items were set on display.
“What the hell is all this?” he asked.
“It’s my collection. I’ve been into this kind of stuff, anime, hentai and other Asian items for years. I’m tired of hiding it and whether you accept it or not, it’s who I am.”
I don’t quite remember what happened next, but I woke up in the hospital and, according to my cousin (age 8), “Uncle Dave punched you so hard in the face that your nose †˜sploded!” I returned home a couple days later to find everything I had pulled out to show him had been thrown in a fire or otherwise disposed of, my computer had some filter program on it, and my dad refused to make eye contact.
Have I mentioned how much I hate the holidays?
[/h]
I hate the holidays. But it wasn’t always that way. Way back in the day, I was just another Christmas happy kid jizzing his pants in anticipation of all the goodies I’d be getting. As I got older, though, I changed, and those around me failed to keep up. For starters I picked up a couple of, shall we say, hobbies? that I was forced to keep secret by an old-school Christian father (he slept with a god damn bible under his pillow) and a mother who expects Asian grades out of a lazy white boy. The rest of my family isn’t much better: needless to say having all of them stuffed into our family home for two weeks every winter does not leave a lot of private space or private time. And so comes yet another holiday season of “joy and cheer and unstoppable capitalism” while I pretend—always pretending—to be something I’m not: normal.
To back up a little bit, when I was 13 years old I watched my first anime on CartoonNetwork. Neon Genesis Evangelion, every Saturday at 11 o’clock P.M. Let’s just say I was infatuated, and as one of my good friends likes to say, I became an in-the-closet weeaboo. What started with dubbed animes late at night turned into watching them online, often for hours at a time. I slowly grew more and more into anime, that wondrous portal to worlds I could only dream about before. Eventually I got to my teenage years, got a job, and started buying paraphernalia from my favorite animes, hiding it wherever I could find space.
Things seemed all well and good, for a while. That is, until I hit puberty. Suffice it to say that mixing a fifteen or sixteen year old boy’s sex drive with a growing anime obsession (full of beautiful girls, seemingly perfect in every way) created quite the hentai freak. I spent hours bouncing from site to site, 4chan’s /h/, whatever video’s I could find on Redtube and of course Fakku. Keeping this “ultimate sin” from a father who was sure to castrate me if he found out and a mother who was prone to psychotic panic attacks when imagining me doing anything but studying is difficult year round. During the holidays, with so many more potential landmines surrounding me and encroaching on my already limited free-time, it was nigh impossible.
And so it came: winter break 2009-2010. My parents were off at the airport picking up one set of relatives, another was in the car on the way to my house. Each and every one of them another disaster waiting to happen. I figured I had an hour to hide every anime related item in my possession. I set to the task with gusto usually only seen when a child is forced to consume their own excrement.
Later, when I was satisfied that everything was safely stowed away, I paused to consider my behavior for the next couple weeks. Cheerful and loud? Quiet, yet content? Should I play with the smaller kids or hang with the adults? Yet, even through my mental planning session, one piece of me just shook it’s head in disgust. That part, I realized, was me. Not the facades I assume for my parents or family. Me as I actually am. The part that wanted to scream “I masturbate to drawn pictures of little girls!” I resolved, then and there, to stop hiding the truth.
“Fuck it” I said, “I’m going to be who I am and to hell with everyone else.”
So I marched (it feels good to march when you’re doing something important) up to my room and removed certain pieces of my anime collection out of the hiding spots. Then I walked downstairs, got some chocolate ice cream, and sat in my favorite chair near the front door. Eventually, my parents walked in the door with my Uncle, Aunt and two young cousins.
“Dad, we need to talk.”
My mother, bless her soul, shuffled everyone else into the kitchen. My father however, gave me a look I’d never seen before: part confusion, part challenge.
Instead of explaining everything there in the foyer, I dragged him up to my room where my favorite items were set on display.
“What the hell is all this?” he asked.
“It’s my collection. I’ve been into this kind of stuff, anime, hentai and other Asian items for years. I’m tired of hiding it and whether you accept it or not, it’s who I am.”
I don’t quite remember what happened next, but I woke up in the hospital and, according to my cousin (age 8), “Uncle Dave punched you so hard in the face that your nose †˜sploded!” I returned home a couple days later to find everything I had pulled out to show him had been thrown in a fire or otherwise disposed of, my computer had some filter program on it, and my dad refused to make eye contact.
Have I mentioned how much I hate the holidays?
[/h]
0
Xenon
FAKKU Writer
Hail, my brot/h/er, from the lands of splendor. If that much is true, anyway.
I enjoyed it up until the brutal end. Nicely done. Left you hoping for something good and accepting, but not too surprised it didn't end up that way.
I enjoyed it up until the brutal end. Nicely done. Left you hoping for something good and accepting, but not too surprised it didn't end up that way.
1
Xenon wrote...
Hail, my brot/h/er, from the lands of splendor. If that much is true, anyway.I enjoyed it up until the brutal end. Nicely done. Left you hoping for something good and accepting, but not too surprised it didn't end up that way.
Almost all of it is true. My dad is not a bible-thumper, but he still hates me for not following his American dream foot steps. And I wasn't hospitalized, just shamed.
0
Sinner_Gluttony wrote...
No wonder your story somehow felt realistic...Good luck with life man.
Thanks bro, but it's gotten a lot better since then.
0
Dang, man! Good luck in life. This story reminds me of Ore no Imouto ga Konnani Kawaii Wake ga Nai with the hiding of anime material and the father who gave you a confusing, challenging look. As a matter of fact, a certain scene from that anime popped in my mind when I read that. Anyways, good realistic story brah. ^_^
0
I can symapthize a bit cuz my parents don't know about the hentai stuff, but I guess they pretty much know now cuz I have a daughtere
0
oh man, why did you pick the holidays of all days (when stress is high) to come out of the closet? you should've remembered kirino from 'ore no imouto', you should've proven yourself first that you can handle things like this. the key word is: BALANCE.
hey, who am i to blame you? i offer my utmost sympathies toxic-kun. taking a look at the bright side, as long as the sites you visit are still up, you could still recover some of your H stash. :)
oh yeah, i almost forgot. regarding your piece, well, it was a noble effort. it might've ended negatively, but that's what makes it different from everyone else's submissions. a sad ending doesn't necessarily mean a bad ending. i admire you for not going with the flow.
IOU a +rep.
edit: rep paid :)
hey, who am i to blame you? i offer my utmost sympathies toxic-kun. taking a look at the bright side, as long as the sites you visit are still up, you could still recover some of your H stash. :)
oh yeah, i almost forgot. regarding your piece, well, it was a noble effort. it might've ended negatively, but that's what makes it different from everyone else's submissions. a sad ending doesn't necessarily mean a bad ending. i admire you for not going with the flow.
IOU a +rep.
edit: rep paid :)
0
DAMN! Your story makes me realize my family is understanding and acceptive of my hobbies. Of course I don't tell them about the hentai and stuff, that's embarrassing, but at least I can watch anime and display my merchandise freely without getting bashed. +1
0
Rise-chan wrote...
Necrobumping, eh? -____-|||My thoughts exactly, lol.
Well actually my thoughts were "Holy Necrobump, Batman" but close enough.
0
Jesus christ, I hope this didn't happen in real life.
It's terrible if your parents really aren't accepting of what you're into. I remember corrupting my dad into liking Mahoromatic... Those were good times.
Anyway, this was an interesting, if really, really sad story to read... My mood's a bit messed up here now.
It's terrible if your parents really aren't accepting of what you're into. I remember corrupting my dad into liking Mahoromatic... Those were good times.
Anyway, this was an interesting, if really, really sad story to read... My mood's a bit messed up here now.
0
artcellrox
The Grey Knight :y
langying wrote...
Jesus christ, I hope this didn't happen in real life.It's terrible if your parents really aren't accepting of what you're into. I remember corrupting my dad into liking Mahoromatic... Those were good times.
Anyway, this was an interesting, if really, really sad story to read... My mood's a bit messed up here now.
https://www.fakku.net/viewtopic.php?t=58030#1767385
Apparently, it "kind of" did.
