THE VOICE THAT IS NOT HEARD; CAN YOU HEAR ME?
Part II
by
Hossca Harrison
2011
“Justin, you told me about your mother finding the picture, and then you jumped to being tortured. What happened in between? How did you end up being tortured? Who did it?”
“I can’t remember,” he said.
“You must remember Justin; this pain is what is keeping you in pain.”
“You mean if I remember, my pain will be gone?”
“If you remember, you will be able to work on your pain. You will be able to look at your death and what brought you to that choice.”
Giovanna walked over to Justin, put her arm around him, and said, “Please remember Justin. We all must remember.”
Justin had a look of repulsion on his face. He then fell to the floor and began sobbing. Giovanna sat down next to him, hugged him, and told him, “If you can heal, then I can heal.”
Justin looked up at me and said, “I think I remember. After my mother found the pictures, my dad, another man I did not know, and the bishop came over to my house. They made me sit down on the couch as they all stood in front of me. They said I had two choices. I could pack my clothes, but only two of everything in my backpack, leave and never return. Or I could go with this other man and be cured of my evil. I did not know where to go; I was so scared my body started shaking. I told my parents I would go with this man, I did not know what to do, so I got in his car, and we drove for about an hour out into the desert. We came to a gate with a big no trespassing sign on it. The man got out and opened the gate. As we drove through, he spoke his first words to me.”
“Do what I say, Justin, and you will be able to go back to your family.”
“Who are you?” I asked him.
“It does not matter who I am. It just matters that we get the evil out of you.”
“We drove up to a small old building standing itself. We walked into the house, down a hallway, and into a large room. The center of this room was a wooden armchair with straps, facing a white screen with a projector. Next to the armchair was another chair, with a wire laying off to the side connected to a battery. He told me I had to take off all of my clothes and sit in the chair. I was so scared I did not know what to do, so I took off my clothes and sat in the chair naked. He strapped my hands and legs to the chair.”
He said, “I am going to show you some evil pictures. If you get excited, I am going to shock your testicles with these wires. You can scream all you want; no one can hear you out here.”
I had never seen porn before. What the man was showing me was disgusting. I felt so scared. All I could think when is someone going to come and help me? Then I started to get angry at this guy. I noticed his pants began to bulge. I asked him, “Are you getting excited, looking at me naked?”
He started screaming at me, jumped up, knocked over the projector, and yelled, “You little fagot.”
“He grabbed my dick, stuck this wire up it, and flipped on a switch. I screamed. My whole body ached. I remember him saying,’ Now every time you piss, you will feel pain. It will remind you how evil you are’.”
“I think I passed out because I remember I was dressed and riding in the car back to my house.”
He stopped in front of my house and said, “Get out, you little fagot.”
“I felt like I just wanted to die. I walked into my house, and my parents were standing there.
“As soon as I closed the door, my mother said, ‘Your entire school, church, and neighbors all know about your evil. You are a disgrace to our family, church, and community. How could you do this?'”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“After you go, go to your bedroom. We do not want to see you again tonight.”
“I tried to pee, but I was so swollen I could not go. It hurt so much. I went to bed so angry, sad, and lonely I came up with the idea, I will show them. I will kill myself. My mother took a prescription sleeping pill; that is what I will do; I will take the whole bottle. I waited until everyone went to bed. I snuck into their bathroom and found the bottle of pills. I went back to my bed and swallowed every pill. The next thing I remember, waking up on the floor in my pajamas. I thought I was still alive. I said, shit! I can’t even kill myself. I looked out the window and saw different cars with their red and blue lights flashing. My first thought was, maybe my mom or dad had a heart attack. I walked down the hallway. Both of my parents were standing there looking at me lying on a bed with wheels.”
“I heard my mother say; ‘At least he will not be an embarrassment to the family now.'”
“My head started to swirl. I felt like I was in a tornado.”
The other five spoke up and said, “Yeah, we all felt like we were in a tornado.”
Doug spoke up and said, “More like a dust devil. I think the devil came and got us.”
“Is this how all of you ended up in Rome? You all felt like you were in a tornado?”
“Yeah, man, it was weird,” said Peter. “I had only been to Rome once when I was ten.”
“Tell me about your story, Peter. I know you are from Portsmouth, England.”
“I don’t want to,” he replied.
“This is too f–king weird man. I thought it was going to be all over when I jumped into the water. Then I end up in Rome, now here. So where is here?” he asked.
“You are in Colorado, in the United States,” I said.
“No shit,” spoke up, Adimar.
“Will you guys watch your language?” Giovanna stated. “You know I don’t like it when you speak like that.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened to you, Giovanna?”
“No,” she replied.
“Who wants to talk?” I asked.
Adimar spoke up and asked Justin, “You talked a lot about what happened to you, Justin. Do you feel any different?”
“Yeah, I do. The pain in my heart is gone. My dizzy spells are gone. Shit, he replied, interrupting himself. Look, I am not in my pajamas. I am wearing my favorite jeans. Yeah, I feel a lot better. This talking shit works.”
Giovanna spoke up and said. “Justin, your language, do I have to be your mother?”
“No, please do not be her. I will talk better,” replied Justin.
After a few minutes of silence, Giovanna spoke up.
“I am ready to talk. I am tired of this hole in my stomach,” she replied.
“I think I liked girls,” she said. “I did not know who to talk with, so I decided to talk to one of my teachers. I felt strange about talking to her, but I decided to anyway. She seemed to understand her students. Was I wrong on that one,” she replied.
She took a few deep breaths and started to cry. Aban walked over and put his arms around her. He told her, “Giovanna, you have never talked about what happened to you or put the knife in your stomach. It is time,” he stated.
“How do you know?” Giovanna asked.
“The voice told me.”
“Well, that voice you hear has saved us a few times.”
Giovanna continued to talk. “So I shared with my teacher. I think I like girls. She told me I was just confused because I was not pretty enough, and the boys did not like me. After school, I went home, and my father was there. He was outraged. He told me my teacher called him and told him I like girls. He always drank a lot, so I felt safer if I went to my room and locked my door. When my mother came home, I could hear him shouting. I knew he was drinking, and it frightened me. The more he drank, the louder his voice became. He asked my mother to get him more wine. I heard her leave, and it became hushed. I thought maybe he passed out, as he usually does when he drinks a lot. Then I heard him shake my doorknob.”
“Open the door,'” he said.
“No, stay away from me,” I replied.
“The next thing I knew, he kicked the door open, standing there naked.”
He walked in and said, “I will teach you to like real men, you maschiaccio.”
“He ripped off my clothes and raped me.”
I was shocked; I had never seen my father naked. When he finished, he just walked out as if nothing had happened. I felt sick, and I was bleeding. The next thing I remembered, it was morning. My mother and father acted as if nothing had happened. Every day I became more depressed. About six weeks later, I noticed my body began changing. I told a friend about it, and she said I was pregnant. My heart just stopped. The only thing I could think to do was go to the priest. I told him what had happened, and he told me it was my fault.”
“God punishes people like you,” he said.
“You are carrying a demon child. This is your punishment. You will raise this demon child, and no man will ever want you. Go away from here. No one wants to see you. You are a disgrace to God.”
“That night, I was lying in bed, and I started to bleed. I went into the kitchen to get a towel when I saw my mother’s large knife next to the sink. All of a sudden, I found myself lying in bed with the knife stuck in my stomach. I do not remember taking the knife to my bed. I guess I killed myself. I tried to pull the knife out of me, but I could not hold on to it. I stood up, and the knife fell out onto the floor. I began to feel sick. I ran into the bathroom, and I looked in the mirror. I could not see myself. I went back to my bedroom, looked at my bed, and there I was lying on the bed with the knife on the floor. Then I felt the same thing the others felt, like a whirlwind. The next thing I know, I am in Rome. I am standing outside the Vatican.”
“Giovanna, the deepest part of the trauma, ones will often forget. In remembering this, it is your key to healing what is keeping you in such despair. Just like Justin, when he chose to remember, his pain started to heal. He even got rid of those awful pajamas.”
“Hey,” spoke up Justin, “they were not that bad.”
“Purple and yellow? Yeah, they were bad.”
The other five quickly agreed.
She closed her eyes and fell into Aban’s arms. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and stated, “It cannot be. What I see just cannot be,” she said.
“Giovanna, if what you see is correct, the knife hole in your stomach will begin to heal.”
She stated, “I saw the knife in the kitchen, and I thought I should bring it into the bedroom. But what I remember was not to kill myself, but to protect myself. I fell asleep, holding the knife in my hand. My father came into my bedroom, took the knife out of my hand, lifted his hand, and stuck it into my stomach. My father killed me,” she cried out. “My father killed me. Holy mother of God, I did not kill myself,” she screamed.
Peter shouted, “Look, Giovanna, the hole in your stomach is healing.”
“Shit,” said Doug.
“Look at your dress; you have on a different dress. The blood is gone.”
Doug put his hand up to his ear and said, “My ear is still missing. I want to talk next,” he said.
“Doug, you remember killing yourself, so what brought this on?”
“My dad always talked about queers.” he said. “He did not know I was queer. He used to be an MP, and now he worked as a security guard down at the docks. He came home one night, telling me they found a couple of queers down at the docks. The other guards threw them in the water, waiting for them to swim up to the surface. They did not come up. My dad said all queers should die.”
“Where was your mother?” I asked.
“I did not have a mother. She took off when I was born. I never saw her. I went to bed and felt like shit. My mother did not want me; my father would kill me if he knew I was queer. I thought I had no choice. When he went to sleep, I went into his bedroom and got his gun. I locked my bedroom door and sat on the bed with the gun. I kept thinking to myself. What life do I have? The more I thought of it, the more depressed I got. I then had the thought. I would take five bullets out of the gun and spin the chamber. If the gun went off, then that was a sign God wanted me dead. If it did not go off, I would pack my clothes and run away. Either way, I could not stay living with my dad. I put the gun to the right side of my head and pulled the trigger. I do not remember the gun going off. I just remember trying to open the bedroom door, but it was locked. I saw myself lying half on the bed and half on the floor with my head in a pool of blood, and my brains splattered on the wall. My pain was so deep, and I felt much worse. I went to grab the gun lying on the floor to try and kill myself again. But I could not hold the gun. My hand just went through it. Shit, I thought the pain would be gone. I did not want my life to end; I just wanted the pain to end. I remember my dad kicking open the door. That is when I felt the dust devil. I knew God wanted me dead, so it had to be the devil. The next thing I know, I was in Rome with these guys.” “So, this was 1962?” I asked
“Yeah, man.”
Doug reached up and touched his ear. It was still missing.
“F—k man, how come my ear did not come back? I told you everything.”
“You told me everything you wanted to hear,” I said.
“You did not say everything that happened to you. The deepest part of your trauma is still hidden from you. I want you to think about it. I keep feeling you guys need to go back to Rome and talk among yourselves, then come back, and we can finish the healing.”
In less than a few seconds, they were all gone. I planned on talking with Jonah that night to see what more information I could get.
A couple of days later, they all arrived back to continue their healing. I asked Doug, “Did you remember more of your experience that lead up to your suicide?”
“Yeah, man, it is f—ked up.”
Giovanna spoke up quite angry.
“If you do not watch your language Doug, I will take off your other ear,” she blurted out.
“Yeah, that is easy for you to say, Giovanna. Your knife hole is gone.”
Peter then spoke up in his very formal voice, “Why are you getting angry?”
I spoke and said, “All of you are feeling a sense of anger because you are looking deep inside yourself, and you do not like what you see. This is common in your state of mind. So Doug, what have you remembered?”
“School,” he stated abruptly. “Everyone in school hated me. They called me queer, because I did not have a girlfriend. There was this one guy, and his name was Steve. He said he wanted to become my friend. I trusted him. We started hanging out and doing things together. He asked me one night when he came over to spend the night, ‘Would you like to kiss?’ I had never kissed anyone before, so I said yes. He then jumped up and said, ‘I thought you were a queer. I will tell everyone at school you are a queer and tried to make out with me.’ I knew if my dad found out, he would kick me out of the house. It was that night I decide to kill myself. I just wanted the pain to end.”
He started to sob. Giovanna came over and hugged him and said, “I love you, Doug. I love you for who you are.”
Then Giovanna had a startled look on her face.
“What is it?” I asked Giovanna.
“That is the first time I have ever said I love you to anyone. I can feel the love, not sex love, just love for all you guys.”
Doug’s body began to shake. The others stood around Doug, and all gave him a group hug.
Adimar spoke up and said, “Doug, your ear is back. You f—king healed your ear. I mean, you ah, ah, I mean, you healed your ear.”
Aban spoke up and said, “The voice told me to tell you what happen to me, and you would help me fill in my missing memory.”
I knew what his missing memory was. Jonah had filled me in on what happed to him.
Aban spoke up about his missing memory, “My friend, Naveed, and I was lovers. He was fifteen, and I was sixteen. One night the security police came into my bedroom when I was sleeping, grabbed me, and put me in a truck. I was told I would be executed for committing crimes against humanity. I was in jail for two years. I never saw my parents or Naveed. No one would talk about them. I was told I had a choice of four types of executions. One was being hanged, and the other three were stoned, cut in half by a sword, or thrown off the highest perch. The others in prison told me to accept the hanging. They said you only feel it for about ten seconds. There is not much pain. One day they came for me and said,” ‘Today, you die for your crimes against humanity.’
“I had already told them I wanted to be hanged. They all smiled at me and started laughing among themselves. Don’t I even get to see my parents? I asked?”
“Yes, your mother will watch the execution.”
“When I was taken outside, I then knew why they were laughing at me. There are two types of hanging. One you stand on a platform, they drop the floor, and you fall with the rope around your neck. The second you stand on the ground; they put a rope around your neck; it lifts your body into the air. It takes about five minutes to die. They made me stand on the ground. It hurt so badly. Just when I thought I could not handle the pain anymore, I fell to the ground. I thought the rope broke. I looked up and saw my body hanging by the rope. My neck still hurt; it continued to burn until you put your hand on the side of my neck.”
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“The next thing I remember was standing in my home. My mother was there talking to the security police. I had never known how they found out about Naveed and me. Then I heard the police say to her, ‘You are to be commended. You have rid our country of poison. You will be rewarded for turning Aban into security.'”
“When I heard this, I fell to the ground. I could not believe what I was hearing. I had thought Naveed was caught and told on me. It was my mother who told on both of us. I also learned he was hanged about a year before I was. I thought my mother loved me, but she loved Islam more.”
“Aban, I think it is time to see the face to the voice you have been hearing.”
“What, I can see it, the voice I mean?” Replied Aban.
“Yes, I want you to let go of the judgment of Naveed. He was not the one who turned you in. He tried to protect you. He loved you, Aban. Even though you knew this, you still had anger towards him. Remember, the other prisoners filled you with lies. They wanted you to hate Naveed so that you would hate homosexuality.”
Then Naveed appeared. He stated, “Aban, I am the voice you have been hearing. I am your guide.”
“What, I do not understand,” replied Aban. “Why would you not just come to me? Why? All this time, just a voice?”
Naveed replied, “You believed in your mind so strongly I could have turned you in, even though you knew it was your mother. You had much anger towards me. You could not see me because of your anger. Now that your anger towards me is gone, you can see me. I love you, Aban. I have loved you many times. Aban, you are my soul mate. We will always be together; our love can never be destroyed, only interrupted sometimes.”
The others grouped around Naveed and thanked him for his assistance over the years. Naveed looked at Giovanna, Adimar, and Peter. “Your healing time has come,” he said.
Peter spoke up and said, “I jumped off the bridge. I was tired of being bullied at school. My parents thought being gay was evil; I felt no one could understand what I was feeling. For years, every day I went to school, I was hit, spit on, and even kicked. One day I was beaten up, bleeding, and taken into the nurse’s office. I was accused of starting the fight. The headmaster told me I was going to be expelled for being a problem maker. The nurse looked at me and said, ‘”People like you should think twice before deciding to be a homo. You deserve what you get. We are reporting this to your parents. You will need to find a different school, a school that might accept your kind.'”
“I was waiting in the office for my mom to pick me up. I decided to get on a bus before she got there and just ride around. I did not want to go home. I was sitting on the upper level of the bus when the bus stopped next to a bridge. I decided to get out, not sure why I was just feeling numb. I had no one to talk to, and no one loved me. I walked onto the bridge and stood there thinking, what are my choices, being beaten up for the rest of my life, or ending it now? I just felt numb. The next thing I remember is falling into the water. I went really deep in the water. The current pulled me out to sea. Then the next thing I remember was sitting on the shore. My body looked like this, all bloated. I also felt the tornado and ended up in Rome. Aban has helped me a lot, and his voice, I mean Naveed, helped me a lot. But the pain of rejection was so great. No one loved me. Everyone thought I was a problem maker. No one would listen to me.”
As he was speaking, his body began to return to its normal size.
“Look,” said Justin, “you are skinny.”
“I can touch my toes,” said Peter.
“The pain is gone; I can feel your love.”
“Now, Peter,” I said. “Drop your formal language, just be yourself. That formal language is your father’s. It is time for you to be you.”
“I feel dizzy,” Peter replied.
Again a group hug took place. They all turned and looked at Adimar.
“It is your time,” they all said with one voice.
Adimar, who looked pale and frail, just hung his head. “I wasn’t gay,” he said. “I liked girls, but they did not like me. My dad wanted me to be a libero.”
“What is a libero?” I asked.
“It is a sweeper in soccer.”
“How much did you weigh before you died?” I asked.
“About 50 Kilos,” he replied.
“I just wanted to be an artist. My dad told me only sissies are artists. I needed to be a real man. I was the smallest on my team. The rest of the team saw me as a joke. Every day in the showers, they would hit me with towels, push me down, and kick me in the balls. I started to skip practice. I would spend my time at the Kunsthalle.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“It is an art museum. I would love just to sit and look at art, wishing I could be an artist. My dad found out I was skipping practice. When he asked me what I had been doing instead, I told him I would go to the Kunsthalle. He got so angry he hit me in the chest. It took all the air out of me, and I could not breathe.”
“You skip practice one more time you will wish you had never taken your first breath,” he said.
“I would go to bed and see myself looking at my favorite painting.”
“What is your favorite painting?” I asked.
“Der Wanderer uber dem Nebelmeer.”
“Ok, what would I call it?”
“The Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,”
Adimar replied, “I kept seeing myself as a wanderer. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was this wanderer standing above the fog. That is when I had the thought for the first time. Maybe if I closed my eyes and pretended to be this wanderer and died, I could become him. The next day I went to practice. This time they hit me more than before because I had skipped practice. I hit my head when they knocked me to the floor. Another guy kicked me in the balls. The pain was so intense. I just curled up in a ball and cried. They all left laughing while I was lying on the floor. When I went home, I just went to my bedroom. My head was hurting. There were blank spots in my vision, and my balls were still aching. I laid there with my eyes closed, picturing myself being the wanderer. It just came over me, now is the time to die. I felt at peace with dying. I went into my bathroom, got my razor blade out of my shaver, and went back to bed. I cut my wrist and lay back, picturing myself as the wanderer. I was surprised. There was no pain except the pain in my head and balls. The next thing I knew, I was standing there looking at my body. I was so disappointed I was still there. I wanted to be the wanderer. My head still hurt, and my balls still hurt. Then I thought maybe I am not dead. Perhaps this is a dream. That is when the tornado came and got me. I ended up in Rome.”
As Adimar was talking, we all noticed his color came back. He was no longer pale. I could see the light in his eyes.
Naveed spoke up and said, “Adimar, that was you in another life who painted this painting, your name as Caspar David Friedrich. When you were Caspar, you were very depressed, just like when you were Adimar. You took on the depression of two lives. This brought about your death.”
As I was listening to Naveed speak, I knew I knew him. Then it clicked.
“Naveed,” I said, “you were in the Essenes with me. I knew I remembered you.”
He smiled and said, “Yes, all of us were in the Essenes.”
“This is the connection, yes. I feel a deep bond with all of you.”
“Why did you end up in Rome of all places?” I asked.
“Rome is the one place we all had a lifetime together, at the same time. It was common ground for us to heal, I included,” said Naveed. “When I was hanged, I died believing Aban turned me in. They even told me Aban was set free for turning me in. It was after my execution I was able to learn the truth. I kept going to Aban’s prison cell and tried talking to him, but he could not hear me.”
I felt our time was coming to an end. The healing was occurring. I knew I needed to share with Giovanna what happened after she was murdered.
“Giovanna, you need to know the rest of your parents’ story after you died.”
“Why?” she asked.
“You will understand,” I said. “As you know, your father was an alcoholic. He would go into drunken rages. When you died, your mother went to the same priest. She also thought you committed suicide. She went to confession as she thought she was responsible for your death. As your mother sat in the confessional, the priest opened up to her about what he had told you. He told your mother you carried a demon child and said you should go away. Something happened to your mother when the priest said this. She later said she just went insane. She opened the door of the confessional and pulled open the other door where the priest was sitting. She grabbed his robe and started hitting him across the head.”
“You evil bastard,” she told him. “I want you to rot in hell.”
The priest started screaming, “Help me. Help me.”
The other priest quickly came and pulled your mother off of him, but not until the priest had a bloody nose and a very swollen eye.”
“Leave and don’t return,” they told her.
She stood up straight and said, “All of you rot in hell. You killed my daughter.” She shouted for all to hear.
She did not know your father killed you. Your mother became a very different person. She went home and saw your father sitting in the chair, drunk. She grabbed a frying pan and started hitting him over the head, shouting. “You get out of here, you bastard. I never want to see you again.”
“Your father left and never returned. About ten years later, he stopped drinking. It was then he realized all he had done. He saw himself as evil. He stopped attending church. He would go to the port and started feeding the poor children as penance for his sins. He died of a broken heart from his deep guilt about twenty years after your death.”
“When did I die?” Giovanna asked. “Since I have been in Rome, it is as if time does not exist.”
“You died in 1961,” I told her. “Your mother is still alive. She never remarried. She lived the rest of her life as a single person. She is very old now, 88 years old. She will be dying soon.”
“Did she ever find out how I died?” Giovanna asked.
“Just before your father died, he wrote a letter to your mother. By the time the letter arrived, he had died. He confessed to raping and killing you. He said he was encouraged to raping and killing you by the same priest. It is this same priest who also molested many boys in the church. Your father does seek your forgiveness.”
“I feel so different,” said Giovanna. “I can feel love. I can feel as if I can now forgive.”
The others all said the same thing, “We can now feel love.”
“We have all been in hell,” said Doug.
“No, I replied you have not been in hell. You have been living a mind generated hell.”
“You mean all this time it was our mind that kept us here?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“What about the shadow people who kept trying to hurt us?” asked Justin.
“They are dead people like you; they are just in a deeper mind generated hell than you were.”
“Naveed,” I said, “I understand you have been preparing a place for all of you to journey to, to complete your healing.”
He looked at me, surprised, and said, “Yes, how did you know?”
I smiled at him.
He said, “Of course, you know. I created a nice house on the coast overlooking the ocean. It is mind generated, but to us, it will be real. We can be at peace and learn to forgive our tormentors so that we can forgive ourselves. This will be our time to remember our journeys so that the next journey will be chosen in wisdom and love.”
“All of you, in time, will meet those who tormented you. You will have a choice to forgive them. Giovanna, soon you will meet your mother. She will appear to you at the age of which you died.”
“Wait,” Justin stated.
“Before we go, did my parents regret me dying?”
“Your mother did not. Your father did find out about the electric wire in your penis when they did the autopsy. Your father, for the first time, was filled with rage about what they did to you. He confronted the bishop. They, in turn, confronted the man who tortured you. He was threatened with charges if he did not leave and not come back. He moved to California and was later convicted of child molestation. He is currently in prison. Your father left the church, which caused your parents to get divorced.”
I looked at all of them. I said, “You will not be returning to Rome, but to a place to rest your spirit. You have healed enough to move on. Although your next journey is a mind-created reality, it will be real to you. It will appear as physical to touch, smell, and assist your ability to feel. One thing to always remember; there is never an escape, only resolvement. Your suicides took you into a mind generated hell. Because you chose to heal after all this time, you are now free from your own hell. Now is your time to complete your resolvement.”
Justin spoke up and asked, “If my father left the church, and my mom, did not my suicide create this?”
“Great question, Justin. I want to share with you before you leave what my teacher Jonah told me about what your life would have been like if you had not committed suicide. First, with you, Justin. Had you demanded to see a doctor after the man injured your penis, your father would have required the bishop, and he talk to the man who injured you. This man would have been prosecuted at that time. Your father would still have divorced your mother, and you would have lived with your father. Your father would have come to understand the persecution of gays by the religions of the world. In fact, your father would have become an advocate for gay rights. In college, you would have met your partner, and your ability to love would have been unhindered.”
“Doug, if you had not committed suicide, your father would have disowned you, but one at school who you had not made friends with would have befriended you, you would have moved in with his family who did accept your sexuality. You and this friend would have created a relationship and moved to the east coast. You would have developed many friends of like heart and like mind.”
“Giovanna, if you would not have told your teacher, as you felt not to, and told your mother instead, your mother would have accepted you. She still would have left your father. Your mother would have sent you to Greece to go to school. There you would have met one who also was a friend of the heart. Your father would not have raped or killed you, as he would not have been there. You would have become an international advocate for gay rights.”
“Aban, if you had not tried to prove to your mother you were born gay, in a year you and Naveed would have traveled to Turkey and ended up in Hungry. You two would have been able to live your life in peace. The two of you would have become counselors for gay teens.”
“Peter, if you would have stuck it out and changed to a different school, you would not have experienced the persecution you did. You would have found acceptance and become a college professor. You would have been known as the gay professor. Gay students could have come to you for advice.”
“Adimar, you only had two months left of high school. In college, you would have met a girl who you would have fallen in love with, who also loved art. She would have become your wife. Adimar, you would have become a very successful artist.”
“It is not to carry guilt. Life can and does present its challenges, but with all the challenges faced head-on, solutions are found. Sometimes it takes time and determination to find the answers. I think you have all learned. Suicide does not create a solution but creates deep pain. As you said, Doug, when you killed yourself, you wanted to pick up the gun and reshoot yourself because the pain was so great.”
“This world is filled with pain, anger, and judgment. Those who are going to move on in life are the ones who face their fears, and through facing their fears, will find solutions. Many choose to commit suicide one way or another. Sometimes they choose slow suicide where they kill themselves one day at a time. The lowest common denominator is always the easiest choice. Escape is always the easiest choice in the short term. But it is always the most painful choice. All of you made choices that resulted in your mind creating and hell. Now you are choosing to heal, and your next reality will be filled with love and the ability to be loved.”
“When one commits suicide, they not only disrupt their pathway, they disrupt the pathway of many whom they would have encountered through the journey called life.”
Peter spoke up and asked, “Can we come back and visit with you?”
They all spoke, “Yes, can we Hossca?”
“I answered, yes, you are all welcome to visit. If you need assistance with something, come and ask me. I am proud of your healing. You have developed the courage to face life again.”