My name is Sawyer Bradley. I am seventeen years old. My best friend and lover, Selwyn, was killed by a religious cult intent on persecuting homosexuals. This is our story.


“I can't wait to get out of this hellhole.” Selwyn sighed, smiling as I ran my fingers through his silky hair. A group of popular, sporty, religious guys glanced over at us, minding our own business in a secluded hallway of the school.

A dark-haired boy, the ring-leader of this particular group, screwed up his face and shouted down at us. “Faggots! Get the f*** out of our school – no one wants you here.” We just rolled our eyes. Not getting a response, the guy just snickered and continued away, one of them adding in.

“That's right, fairies – you keep your disgusting mouths shut!” The group laughed again, high-fiving amongst themselves. The teacher who stood at the end of the hall, supposedly monitoring the students, said nothing, only glanced our way with an expression of superiority.

I fiddled with the rings on Selwyn's thin, dark fingers. “Me neither.” He kissed the top of my head softly, and I huddled closer to him, but the moment was shattered when the teacher decided now to intervene.

“No PDA in the halls!” I gave him the finger.

“You can't pick and choose which rules of the handbook to follow, Mr. Daniels.” Selwyn added, intertwining our fingers.

“You boys did with the bible.” the teacher retorted, pulling out a pen and slips to the principal's office.

We glanced at each other. “Have you not heard of something called 'separation of church and state'? How about statues against discrimination?” Selwyn asked.

“I can't sit by and let you boys just throw your lives away.” Mr. Daniels said, stepping closer and putting away the slips. I rolled my eyes. We had had this speech from “concerned teachers” before. Selwyn, however, crossed his hands over his lap, putting on the expression I often called his 'debate face'.

“Sawyer and I have never dabbled in drugs or alcohol. We get decent grades, are on track to graduate, and have part-time jobs and know what we are going to do about college and our careers. How exactly are we throwing our lives away?”

Mr. Daniels raised his left eyebrow condescendingly. “By choosing to go against God's will, you are giving in to sin and will go to hell when you die. Moreover, you could contract AIDS and die within a few years; how will your college plans help you then?”

Selwyn repressed a snort. “First off, we are both virgins. And given that neither of us has any family members with heritable diseases, we are not going to get STD's from one another. Not to mention that AIDS does not exclusively affect homosexuals. It happens to straight people too. As for going to hell...I am an atheist and Sawyer is agnostic. We aren't going to hell because it doesn't exist, Mr. Daniels. It's a fairy tale, made up by men hundreds of years ago to keep society in line by telling them that if they don't a sky monster will make them be on fire forever.”

“Selwyn. Sawyer. Hell does exist. Why else would Jesus have died for our sins? You must listen to reason; how can you damn yourselves to eternal punishment for something so inherently disgusting?” He gestured to the two of us, still partially wrapped around each other. The hint of pain that flashed in Selwyn's eyes made me want to kick Mr. Daniels right in his bigoted testicles.

“Say Hell exists. Say God hates homosexuals and that we will both go there when we die. I would still rather live the rest of my life happily, with Selwyn, with my acceptance of myself, even if it means eternal damnation. If Hell exists... I'll gladly accept it if I can have the rest of my life to be who I am; with whomever I wish.” I say to him, standing up and helping Selwyn to his feet. We walk calmly away, leaving Mr. Daniels behind.

Midway down the next hall, Selwyn halts and looks at me. “Would you really accept going to hell forever to be with me now?” There is no hesitation when I nod yes. We may not be soul mates. Our romantic relationship may not last. But Selwyn is my best friend. He is closer to me than my family. I love him. And he loves me.

At least, he did. A week after the conversation he and I had with Mr. Daniels, Selwyn died. He was walking home from work, a stretch of hardly two blocks. These people cornered him against a building and beat him to death, afterward using his blood to paint the words, “God's will”on the wall just above his corpse. It was not even ten o'clock at night. The police did not arrive until nearly midnight. They removed his body, but even now the stain of blood remains. Those words, etched into it's face like ugly scars. I cannot imagine how Selwyn felt as he was being bludgeoned to death by those religious zealots. All I know is that I love him so much and the pain I feel right now cannot be measured.

When I heard what happened, I threw up. I threw up four times, retching and slow tears dripping from my eyes. Selwyn...Selwyn was dead. The one person I counted on for everything; the person I cried to, the person I kissed, the person I spent my time with, and the person I thought I would be with forever. In the blink of an eye, that was ripped out of my life by the same people that talk every day about how Jesus loves me and everyone else no matter what we do. He was gone, gone from me. Gone from here. My parents did not try to comfort me. My father, who had told me the news, only stood in the doorway while I vomited and sobbed. He did not know what to say because there was nothing to say. My life shattered into a hundred pieces, and they cut me and bled me like a pig.

I tried going to school once, a week and a half after it happened. Some attempted to comfort the shell that was me, but mostly I was just avoided. Some laughed about what happened. One told me that he hoped I was next.

The day before the funeral, Selwyn's dad asked me to give his eulogy. He said that I knew him better than he did. It's true.

Sickeningly, Selwyn's parents hired a preacher to command the service. A preacher. A f***ing preacher! When it was their selfsame religion that had killed their son, they still clung to it, and asked some man they didn't know, some man who may as well have taken part in the murder, to talk about how Selwyn was going up to God now. A minute after he started, I told him to leave the stage and took up the microphone.

“This speech isn't meant for all of you sitting down there.” I began, scanning my eyes through the crowd. “This isn't meant for Selwyn's parents, or the preacher, or the monsters who took him from me. This is meant for any of you who truly knew him. Knew that he was gay, that he and I were partners, and knew that we loved each other. How I loved him.” I have to pause, because my voice is already threatening to crack and my eyes grow wet with unshed tears.

“Selwyn was everything to me. Everything. I'm shocked I've made it this long without him. I never dreamed that we would be apart so soon. I thought we held forever in our hands, and we could have. Selwyn didn't have to die!” I shouted, balling up my fists. “There was no reason and no right. Those people...those cruel, sick monsters of people beat Selwyn to death for being gay... Something he couldn't help and couldn't change. This isn't some freak accident. This was murder. And this isn't the first time, nor will it be the last. People just like me, just like him, are being murdered every day, or having their worlds torn apart by such cruelty.

So I ask you now... What was the point? What was gained from killing this innocent person? Gays aren't just going to stop being born because one of them was killed. Maybe more of them will hide it, and hide it so long they end up killing themselves, if you're lucky. Is that the plan, then? Get rid of us all? Then what? Why is it your business what we do with our own lives? If you think it's wrong, don't do it. But why, why would your belief lead you to destroy someone so beautiful and pure and strong? I loved Selwyn. I loved him more than I've ever loved anything in my life, and more than I'll ever love anything again. And it's your fault – every single one of you – that spread this hate or that stood by and let it happen because you didn't care enough to try and stop it. It's your fault.” I took the gun from underneath my jacket and raised it to my temple. For Selwyn.