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When I was a young "boy", (my father took me into the city)  my parents would constantly drill into my head that we are a Christian household, and being gay is wrong, embrace who you really are, etc. That was, until I turned fifteen, but first, let  me take you through my life leading up to that.

So I was always told being gay is a sin growing up, but I knew there was something off about that, as if God himself was coming down from the clouds and telling me that it's okay. But I was too young to understand...

So I grew up for a while, denying who I was, and why I was that. I just moved on with my life as a boy, but I was never happy with that. I always wanted something "more" in a sense, so I tried to find what I wanted.

I did research on what was going on, why I was always uncomfortable with how I look, why I felt a strange wave of uncomfortableness when I looked down, why I hated my short hair, all of that. I came to the conclusion that I was transgender, as I grew up a Christian, with homophobic and transphobic parents, this horrified me, I wasn't ready, I wasn't prepared, I just wanted to be "Normal" so I tried conversion therapy.

Needless to say, that didn't work. I had no need to do that, it just caused pain. But my parents could never find out, and they didn't, for a while.

But in third grade, something odd happened, I had nothing in hand, I was talking to a friend, and I was getting angry at him, I hated when he mentioned that girls were lesser beings, or couldn't do anything. So my anger flared up.

I started a fire, the school evacuated, but one person never made it out.

The friend who made me mad.

Him saying those comments, made me mad. But I was more mad at myself.

He was just messing around.

My fire, cost him his life.

I got in trouble for causeing it, but other than that, nothing else really happened to prevent it, I got no training, as they didn't know I started it the way I did, but everyone knew I started it, I was an enemy to the public.

I was constantly teased for starting the fire, I told the teachers, but all they said was "Serves you right"

And it did, but I didn't want it to happen again, that was the only reason I wanted it to stop, I mostly learned to control it, was to not let my emotions take control of me, but I have a miserable life until then.

It only got worse in middle school.

I was entering fifth grade, when I came out to my parents, I told them I was transgender, I liked girl things. There was an outrage, but eventually they got me what I needed.

Once I started transitioning, everyone just teased me more. "Fireboy" was the only thing anyone ever called me. I told teachers, parents, but everyone just said "serves you right. "

I understand being teased because I started a fire and deserving it, but not this.

I had a miserable life until I turned fifteen, but then everything changed...