NOTE: This story is entirely fictional.
Email comments to: sextorian@webtv.net
The previous chapters of this story took place some twenty years ago. For twenty years I have loved Chad. Twenty years! We had our bad times occasionally. But mostly it was good. No, it was great. That is, until that fateful night in August.
Chad had gotten home early from work that Thursday afternoon. He was pumped after closing a big deal for his firm that day, and his boss had given him the rest of the day off for a job well done. When I got home, he met me at the door with the good news. He was still just as good looking as the day I had met him.
We rarely went out on week nights any more, but we decided to celebrate a little by going to the neighborhood gay bar around the corner for a burger and a beer.
We sat at our favorite booth in the corner by the front window, and ordered our food and beers. Chad was talking excitedly about his big deal, and I listened as I realized how much love I had for him, even after twenty years of being together.
The bar was fairly empty, maybe a dozen guys total. There were two other couples besides us, and a group of six guys playing pool at the back of the bar. Some of them were guys we knew from the neighborhood.
We were about half way through our first beer when he came in the front door. He was a little man, about 5' 6" or so. He sat at the bar and ordered a beer from Sal, the bartender. As Sal pulled his beer from the tap, the little man turned on his seat and scanned the bar. I was watching him, and felt something was wrong. His eyes rested on Chad and I just as Chad put his hand on top of mine to get my attention.
I didn't look at Chad, but watched the little man as he rose off his bar stool and headed in our direction. He pulled a pistol out of his jacket in each hand as he walked towards us. I saw a rage in his eyes as he screamed, "GOD DAMN FAGGOTS!"
I felt a burning pain in my right arm, and looked down to see the blood pouring out of the entrance wound. Then I realized I had been shot, and just as I looked at Chad to warn him, I saw the top of his head splatter against the wall behind him. I heard another shot, and that is all I remember.
When I woke up in the hospital the next day, all I cared about was if Chad was alright. But I knew he wasn't. The nurse called in a doctor, who told me Chad was pronounced dead at the scene. My whole world fell apart at that moment.
In the following days and weeks, I learned that everyone in the bar was shot that night, including the eight who died. The shooter had shot me in the chest after killing Chad, and that was when I blacked out.
Sal, the bartender, was also pronounced dead on the scene. The shooter had emptied his last round into Sal's already dead body as the cops burst in and shot him dead.
Maybe someday I will understand how a person can hate someone else for loving a fellow human being. But I don't think I will ever understand it.
I don't know how I will live now that Chad is gone.
THE END.
Author's note: This story is a work of fiction. My first idea was to make it a 'happily-ever-after' ending. I'm sure most of you would have preferred that. But after thinking about it, I decided that in the wake of recent anti-gay hate crimes, I needed to try to make another statement here. Maybe this isn't the correct medium for that statement, but I hope it causes at least some of you to stop and think. United, we are a powerful force, both socially and politically, and we can effect change.