Spoiler
This is a short story for Skins' Contest (Check out details here).
I need some help brushing this up. I'm not sure how else I could go about this so any thoughts and reviews will be greatly appreciated. The question, 'what makes a man' has too many different ways to go about it so I tried to keep it fairly simple. -.-
For the dearly confused. I am really a girl. I just like the blue male symbol.
I need some help brushing this up. I'm not sure how else I could go about this so any thoughts and reviews will be greatly appreciated. The question, 'what makes a man' has too many different ways to go about it so I tried to keep it fairly simple. -.-
For the dearly confused. I am really a girl. I just like the blue male symbol.
What Makes a Man
Have you ever listened to complete silence and heard your entire life whisper in your ear? There was only one time in my life in which this happened. That was during your funeral, Dad, when I walked up to that podium and listened to the desolate peace as if I was the only person alive at that time.
“Dear Father,” I began. “Do you remember when I was six and Lizzy found a spider in her room?” I looked down at my seated sister. Her blond hair was tied into a tidy bun and her black dress blended in like a mosaic with the other attendees. Bloodshot eyes bore onto me as the frown tightened on her mouth. “She asked me to kill that spider. She had a case of arachnophobia remember? She asked me to kill it because I was a boy. I told her I was afraid of it too, who wouldn’t be? I was just a kid, even if I was guy; I was still just a kid. Of course, you didn’t see a child, you saw a boy. So you scolded me for this and told me that I had to be a real man.” My mind swam with the endless shouts and strong grips his words had on me as a child. “I ended up killing every spider after that and never blinked an eye.”
My hands gripped the podium as my tongue swept over my lips. “When I was twelve, Rowie, our pet dog died in a small accident down the street. Remember that time, Father? That news devastated me.” I put a hand over my chest. “I was very close with the hound. For weeks, tears traveled from my eyes to his grave in our backyard. I spent countless hours mourning his death.” My eyes scanned the audience. “You got tired of it, of me. With anger, you slapped your hand across my cheek for the first time.” My cheeks burned as I remembered the endless lessons you taught. “You said, ‘Real men don’t cry’. Since then, I never shed a tear.”
I lifted the corner of my lip. “Do you remember when I was sixteen and I joined my High School’s football team? You told me, practically ordered me to join the team. Football was not the right sport for me. I ended up dragging the team down and I got lucky only once every few games, scoring a point or two. However one day, I saw you in the stands. You watched me with stern eyes and I knew you wanted to see me score, to see me win a game.” I blinked rapidly, taking a second to strengthen my voice as the images of the dark, brutal nights in the stadium rushed back into my head. “I didn’t want to disappoint you again,” I said smiling. “That was the first time my teammates lifted me over their shoulders. The first time I saw a smile on your lips.”
My knuckles hardened. “So why?” I asked. “So why is it that when I come home you’re still frowning? Why is it that nothing I do seems to faze you? Will I never obtain your satisfaction?”
My heart stuttered as his memories flooded into my head. “I did everything you told me to. I went to school and never missed a day. I received exceptional grades and test scores in hopes that it would keep you happy. University was no match for me, for you told me that parties were for boys, and I was to be a man. A man who studied, who took charge, who knew the difference between right and wrong and I grew to become someone who was dependable.”
“When I was twenty-one, I brought home my first girlfriend. She was wonderful, beautiful, knew how to cook and clean, was on her way to obtaining a degree and a job.” Elizabeth was a once in a lifetime girl. She was the golden egg that every parent wished their son would marry. “She was perfect but you shook your head. So I yelled at you with words I never had the courage to say for the first time in my life. Do you remember what you said to me that day?”
“Grow up. You’re listening to all the things, chasing the wrong ideas.”
“I didn’t know what you meant back then but I’ve figured it out. I shouldn’t have listened to your advice,” I scoffed. “I had to make my own choices. I had to do what I thought was right and go where I pleased. I had to respect who I thought deserved it and I had to speak my mind. I had to be the roof over my family, the light in the dark. Would you be happy if I told you that I did just that? That I became that gentleman, that hero, that person who you always wanted me to become and I did it on my own.”
“Dear Father, you were the mountain I wished to climb. So I spent all my time looking up at you, climbing high to reach your summit, your expectations but I forgot something. I disregarded the passing scenery, forgot to watch the flowers bloom and the trees grow. I wanted your eyes on me and before I knew it, you molded me into the strong man I am today.”
I lifted my eyes and peered as the funeral guests. They’re all holding back their solemn tears. A few sniffs echoed in the hall but there were no claps. A place of death was not a place to applaud. I forced up the corners of my lips as I drowned myself in his memories and filled myself with his love. “Thank you Father, for all that you’ve done. Even in the harshest of times, you were always trying to make me better, make me real and make me strong.”
“What makes a man is to be true. You were and always will be, the man in my eyes.” I smiled. “Rest in peace, Father.”

