~Andrew~<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://sp9.fotolog.com/photo/57/41/106/termi_remember/1087153784_f.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/>This was it! In two days I would never see these halls again, I  grin as I open my locker for probably the last time. Graduation was in a couple of days and everybody had pretty much all but checked out. I'd just been going over some last minute details with my advisor. I'd be going to New York this summer, and attending NYU in the Fall. I'm really excited, I'd finally be getting out of this dead-end town.<br/><br/>Huntington, West Virginia; it's not a bad place really if you ignore the fact that it's boring as hell and about 40 or 50 years behind the rest of the US in terms of Social rights. OK, that isn't actually fair I suppose, it's not that bad, but being a college town itself that it would be more booming and Liberal. The problem with this is that most of those in government are well past their 50's and ultra-conservative. Maybe with Dad in the Senate now that would slowly change.<br/><br/>I'm more then happy to be getting out; however, I can't help but feel a bit nostalgic as I look around after closing the locker. There's plenty of things that I wouldn't miss, but at the same time a chapter of my life is coming to a close. It's difficult not to be torn about that.<br/><br/>"Hey pretty boy." A voice calls, shoulder checking my into a locker with a loud clang. I tense instinctively as a large, bulky body crowds me. "How about a going away gift?"<br/><br/>He'd said it teasingly, but his tone was menacing and I roll my eyes at the act. Drake Roman is a mid-level meat-head that likes to target those he thinks are weaker, but in reality he's just a massive closet case that won't amount to anything. "Sorry Draky-poo, but I'm not into syphilis," I jab at him calmly. "I know I'm sexy, but why don't you go play with one of the Cheerleaders-soon-to-be-strippers." I pat his cheek patronizingly.<br/><br/>Predictably this doesn't sit well with him, but suddenly he forces me back against the locker, hands fisted angrily in my shirt and I wince on impact. I'm pretty sure I even heard the locker creek in protest. "Snobby little Faggot!" He snarls and my breath hitches in fear as I watch his face morph. Gone are the human features, replaced by a monstrous fiscode.<br/><br/>For the First time in a long time, I'm afraid....