Carlos was a devoted catholic. He had come to the belief that there is indeed a god in heaven, and a devil in hell. His parents though never trying to force those beliefs on him, were happy he had become on of faith all the same. The past two years he'd been living according to the good book. He believed in all the lord's teachings. He soon learned that his faith, as strong as it is, would not save him.

Over time, he had come to a realization about himself. After years of denial, he finally came to accept it. Carlos knew the exact moment he figured it out. Day in and day out of his physical education class, staring, admiring the other boys. He could not understand why. Finally he knew. He knew he was different.

He tried his hardest to forget and conceal it. For a year Carlos was successful. It was easy to conceal what people did not want to know. Now though, he was tired. Tired of living a lie. It was time to come out.

Nothing could prepare or save him. Not even his faith. Carlos first told his friends. Word spread quickly about him. He had far fewer friends now, but had not realized it.

Carlos returned home and waited for his father to return. Once he arrived, Carlos sat both parents down. He was not sure how to say it, or what would happen. The book teaches honesty. He took a deep breath, swallowed, and told them his secret.

Carlos was walking along the road. His face covered and dirty from tears. His shirt collar was stretched. He clenched his bible close to himself. Carlos ran over the events in his mind. How furious his father was, and saddened his mother was. How his father grabbed his collar, yelling at him, nearly throwing him out the front door. He was thinking so hard, he didn't hear the truck pulling up next to him.

"Faggot!"

Carlos began to turn his head when he felt a glass bottle shatter across his head. He fell to the ground clasping the back of his head. Looking up, he saw three boys from school pile out of a truck and walk toward him. Carlos tried to get to his feet but one of the boys pushed him back to the ground. They all started kicking him.

After some minutes of this, Carlos felt two hands on each of his arms. Two of the boys brought him to his feet and kept him there while the third began to pummel on him. They all took turns beating on him and Carlos could barely maintain consciousness. Some time later, what seemed like forever, the three boys stopped and just left Carlos bleeding in the dirt. When Carlos finally had the strength, he picked up his bible and slowly limped home.

He didn't bother going into the house for fear of his father. Instead Carlos went into the garage. He got a bucket and sat in a chair with the bucket in front of him. He began to wonder why. Why do they all hate me? Even my own father. Just because I'm different. Doesn't the book teach tolerance? So why did God make me this way? How could a god be so evil?

Carlos began to tear the pages of his bible out and throw them into a bucket. After all the pages had been torn he lit some matches and watched the remnants of the book burn. Once the majority of the book had turned to ash, Carlos locked all the doors in the garage. He opened the door to the truck they kept in there and turned the engine on. He sat back down in the chair and waited for the room to fill with the fumes.

A god that teaches tolerance yet does not allow it to fill the hearts of those under him. Carlos was one of his children but god abandoned him. Abandoned him like al the others. How could god forsake him? He who showed so much faith and love for god. Tossed aside like he didn't even matter anymore. What kind of a god could do this?