no no no no you can’t creep up on a missile

I eyed the grave from behind the fence about 50 feet away. I wish I could tell you I wasn’t afraid, but of course I was. The grave of Ryan Fitzgerald is not something to joke about. It is not something you just walk up to. It is not something you even think about unless you are damn near fearless. I want so desperately to tell you I stood there faces the grave and not a single doubt or fear wandered across my mind. I want to, but I can’t. When you see beauty, and I mean abolute true to God beauty, It is your duty as a human being to share what you saw. It is your duty to try your hardest to duplicate that one of a kind feeling. Lying is not an option.
I first heard about the grave when I was 8. My older brother took past the cemetary on the way to school once and he pointed it out. He said the guy that was buried there was some hot shot fag. The kind dad was always railing on and on about. He said the guy was a musician or “something else equally as faggy”. I didn’t really understand why he was telling me this. He just stood there and looked at the grave. He didn’t speak a word for a long time so I started to walk away towards school. My brother grabbed me by the hood of my sweatshirt and pulled me back. He leaned down so his face was even with mine. “Don’t walk away when I am trying to tell you something important damnit.”
His face had lost its usual grin and he looked worried. It was the first and only time my brother had ever shown any kind of concern for my wellbeing. It was the only time my brother had been a brother to me.
“Now listen and don’t forget what I tell you today ok? That grave is bad news. Bad things happen to anyone who visits it. They changed little brother. They become something new. Something wrong. Something God didn’t want to exist. That grave is a portal to hell bro. Don’t go anywhere near it ok? Just don’t”
I wanted to ask more. I wanted to find out every little thing he knew about the grave. My entire being was overwhelmed with curiosity. But I didn’t speak a word. I just stared into the face of a kid who looked just like my brother but was not my brother. Not for these few minutes. My brother had left and something new had taken his place. A real brother. One that cares. He looked at me long and hard as I nodded my head and we started walking again. Once we got close to school that grin came back to his face again. That fucking grin. I knew whatever I had just talked to was gone now. I didn’t know if it would come back, but I doubted it.
And so I lived my life never even considering going near the grave. My friends would constantly dare me to because they knew I was the only kid brave enough to, but I always refused. I made a promise to my real brother and I intended to keep it. When Dan offered me a watch to kiss the headstone, I laughed and declined. When Brent offered me one gram for free as long as i smoked it with Ryans spirit, I shook my head and changed the subject. When Trish offered me a handmade necklace to dance around the grave, I humbly declined. I wouldn’t do it for a kiss from Andy or a movie from Corey. They laughed and said I was a sissy. I laughed with them
Things started getting bad at home around Sophomore year of highschool. Dad started drinking again around thanksgiving, just in time to ruin the big dinner by breaking moms left wrist. By christmas mom said she had had enough and was leaving. By New Years she told us she wasn’t joking around anymore and the road was her destination. By the first day of Spring, all hope had drained from her eyes. My brothers grin grew 3 sizes that year. I changed the way I walked to school so I would always pass Ryan’s grave. Sometimes I would stand at the gate and think about falling asleep on top of the mound. Of letting the devil himself gobble me up through this cursed grave and do with me what he might. I wasn’t never brave enough to do it though. Things were bad, but not bad enough.
Mom was killed on July 5th. Dad was so mad about the propane. She had one job just one job all she had to do was get the propane for the grill but she forgot. She forgot and he couldn’t grill. He was so mad he got into his car and was gone the rest of the day. She packed her bags while he was gone. He kissed me on the cheek and nodded to my brother, whose grin was practically devouring his face. He knew what was coming and I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. Maybe if I was brave enough to see the truth then, my mom would still be alive. Probably.
All her bags were packed and she was ready to go. She even made it all the way to the car this time before changing her mind. She came back in the house and gave my brother a great big hug as she tried to hide the tears that were begining to form in her eyes. She smiled at me and then went up to her bedroom. He came home reaking of alcohol and looked at my brother. He pointed to the luggage in the kitchen and then up the stairs. She had forgotten to unpack. I caught a glimpse of my father’s eyes and I knew what was coming. I thought about fighting him. I ran instead. My mother was going to die soon and I was going to join her. Ryan would take me to her.
Halfway down the street I heard the shot, but I couldn’t comprehend it. I couldn’t think about anything but that grave. I had a mission now and nothing could get in the way of that. I had to join Ryan. I couldn’t remember why anymore. I couldn’t even remember who Ryan was or why he was so important. But I knew I had to go. It was important. And so I ran and I ran.
I stopped only briefly at the gate. It is then when everything came back to me. It was then that I remembered who Ryan was. I remembered the evil that surrounded him and I knew that what i was walking into was certain death. My entire body shook and I could barely lift the latch to open the gate. I slowly lumbered towards the grave. It seemed to glow in the moonlight and at times I swear I heard it calling to me. I cast myself upon the dirt and let the truth overtake me. My mother was dead. My father had killed her and my brother had been delighted in the process. I was going to die soon. I had cast my body onto a portal to hell. I had given myself to satan in order to be with my mother again. It was only now that I realized my mother would go to Heaven and not Hell. That realization hit me hard and I panicked. I tried to get up but my arms were weak. I tried to crawl away but I couldn’t move an inch. The grave had me. I was done for.
Tears began to stream down my face. I could hardly make out the two figures at first. I thought they were daemons, but they were too bright. They were glowing. One had long blonde locks and a scrawny body that somehow came off as majestic. The other had an awkward smile on his face as if he couldn’t decide whether to blush or leap for joy. They stopped walking when they came within 2 feet of me. The blonde figure flicked his hair back and faced his partner. They kissed. I say kissed because I know of no other word to describe it but I am telling you now that they did more than just kiss. Their entire beings explode into eachother in one simple peck. They became something greater than even god himself. They ceased being two figures in the night and became a force. An energy. They became beauty and perfection. They wore happiness as a coat and weaved their pants out of ecstacy. They were hope and meaning. They were heavenly.

I awoke in tears and would do so for the next few weeks. They police took me to an institution because I wouldn’t talk to them. It was a year before I knew what to say. Before I knew what to do. In the dead of night I snuck away and returned to the grave. I layed a rose at the headstone and thanked Ryan. I met Rich a week later. He still laughs when I tell him what made me realize I love men, and I laugh with him.