My dad wanted to kill my little gay brother. We had to run away

My name is Sam and my little brother is Timmy. I am writing this so that everyone finds out about the harsh truth about the homophobic aspect of the society that no one seems to take seriously. I am 26 and my brother Timmy is 19 and until 2 years ago we lived with our parents in the home we grew up in.

You couldn’t say that we have received much of an education from our parents. Our mom is a house wife and our dad works in constructions. He drinks a lot which always led to argues and family abuses. Since he is a big and powerful guy, no one could handle him when he was losing his minds. Especially since my mom used to drink as much as he did and she mostly agreed with his violent behavior. We had strict rules that we had to live by, somewhat more like military rules, since my dad worked in the military for over 13 years and he thinks that the army values are the only one worth of following even in our lives. All my brother and I could do is to comply and this is what we did for our entire lives. That is until two weeks ago when everything drastically changed.

I knew my little brother Timmy was gay even before he knew it. That is because I am also gay and I know what the signs that I should be looking for are. However, Timmy always denied it, when I first tried to talk to him about it and I realized back then that the reason may be the fact that he was still too young. So I said to myself that I should wait for the time to pass and see how he will act as he gets a bit older. But as the time passed, my first impression was confirmed and this time I insisted to talk to him until he admitted. I knew that the fact that he kept denying it was that he was ashamed and, most of all, because he knew what would happen to him if our parents, especially our father, would find out. He tried to preserve the male dominant spirit in our family and he thought that a man should be strong, mostly merciless and stone cold. I have to say that I have never found myself in that description, despite having tried to lie to myself that I am that man. I was not and neither was my brother. The difference, as the time passed, is that I knew how to pretend. He didn’t.

Soon, my father started to get angrier at us, especially in the last period and mostly regarding Timmy. He punished him for every stupid thing: coming late from school, not eating everything from his plate, the way he walked and because he read too much. It was obvious that there was something he didn’t like. I knew his opinions about gays – “Fucking fags, ass-lovers and pathetic queers”. It broke my heart, not for me, but for Timmy, because he was more vulnerable than me and it seemed like all of our father’s rage was aiming mostly towards Timmy. Perhaps because he had noticed that I was getting bigger and stronger and I kept confronting him more often lately. So he began abusing Timmy more and more. First verbally, then physically.

I had no idea what was happening in the beginning, since I was working during the day, so we would have enough money, because most of them were spent on booze and smoking. But I noticed Timmy becoming more and more secluded and afraid to talk to me and I didn’t know what was going on. Until one day when I saw his bruise around his left eye when I came back from work. He told me that he got into a fight at school, but it was the second bruise over the course of two weeks. I insisted on finding out what was happening and I told him I didn’t believe him. Then he finally admitted. He had told our dad that he was gay, after being threaten and terrified when he came drunk from work. Which was the day before that. He told me that he feared for his life, since dad said that he will kill him. That he could not accept “queers” in his family. That made me so mad that I started shacking as he was crying in my arms. I knew right then that the things could not go on like that and I decided to confront him.

He came from work a bit earlier and I knew he was drunk the moment I saw him. He was already nervous.

“Get out of my way” he told me “Where is that queer? Come here fag!”

His stinking breath was all over me when he tried to push me away. I stood my ground and that was the first time when he stopped and looked at me. I couldn’t remember when was the last time he had ever looked me in the eyes.

“Leave him alone! You want to fight someone? Fight me, I am also gay!”

I knew right then that I was not afraid of him anymore. What took me by surprise was him grabbing a knife and saying: “I will kill you both dirty fags!” and he came towards me. I hit him instantly and broke his nose. Then I grabbed my brother and ran.

That was the last time we have ever stepped into that house. He was charged for assault and went to prison and our mom left him and we have never heard of her since. I am still with my brother, after a lot of legal problems that we had to overcome and I still work to help him throughout the college. If there is one thing I have learned so far is that no one will ever keep us apart and that I will always protect him. He just got involved in his first relationship with a pretty decent guy and I am so happy for him.

Bottom line is – never take shit from anyone. It’s the only means by which you can be happy with yourself.