Ginjuh

My name is not "Ginjuh" but that's what everyone calls me. It all started when I was 3-years-old at a family reunion and my speech impediment kept me from properly parroting what everyone else in the family was calling me. Fifteen years later and my speech impediment is mostly better but I still have a shocking wave of flame-colored hair, freckles, and I can't stand to hear that nickname come out of people's mouths. I'm still stuck with that awful nickname, though. Even the other people in school call me "Ginjuh".

How can a teenage guy come out to his parents when they keep using a nickname that reminds him that he once had a speech impediment? "It's all just in good fun, Ginjuh!" is their motto. Sometimes I feel like my parents have formed a united front against me like they want me to feel worthless.

At least I have my grandpa. But he hasn't been well for a while. Above all things--being scared of coming out, being annoyed with the taunts and jabs, afraid of what the future holds for a high school senior--I'm terrified of losing him. But that's life, isn't it? A guy has to learn to face all it...or collapse under the weight of all of it.

Then there's the weirdo I go to school with that my grandpa hired to help us on the farm at the end of summer...