[ WP ] A closeted police officer commits a brutal beating of an innocent gay man to protect his secret .

As I turned around to take my seat at the podium, I was blinded by the flashing of cameras. The courtroom was deafeningly loud. Every micro movement seemed to send out a bombshell of sound: each click of the camera flash, the rustling of papers, and the tick of the clock. My chair creaked as I sat down. The banging of the gavel called the court back to order. 
 
 The past twenty minutes had hit most of the courtroom hard, including me. From the second she took the stand, I saw his face. She talked about stories of how amazing her son was, and how brilliant he could be, though I already knew that. I couldn ’ t look at her. She was definitely his mother. They were too similar. I did my best to pay attention. In order to be not-guilty, I needed to act not-guilty. But halfway through, his face became the only thing I could see. 
 
 Blood started trickling from his nose, my fist colliding again with his face. He collapsed to the pavement as I pulled my concealed pistol from my jeans. “ I said to leave me the fuck alone! ” 
 
 The night air was cold around my sweating body as I leaned against the ally wall for support. The guys were inside having drinks to celebrate the Chief ’ s birthday. We were a few rounds in when I caught site of Eric. I tried to hide myself for as long as I could, but Eric found me. I tried to shake him off as some random dude asking ridiculous questions, but the guys were getting suspicious. I started pushing him away, getting fed up that he would not leave me alone, or worse, that he would end up ruining my life. 
 
 He held up a hand, telling me to hold off as he struggled to catch his breath. He coughed and heaved for air as he struggled to his knees; his long hair covering part of his face as he looked up at me. I looked down into his eyes, my gun still pointed directly at his forehead. Those soft eyes… 
 
 His touch was always soft. I had had my doubts whether or not my attraction to men was real or not. It wasn ’ t until this quiet soul came along and dared me to find out. Those long nights spent exploring each other ’ s bodies, feeling the touch of another man, and the smell of lust between us. I loved the sweat that would coat our bodies as I took him as my own. And our forbidden love only made our connection that much more antagonizing. 
 
 I would always need more. All day, I would wait for the moment to escape from the rules of society that I, myself, had to enforce, to a man who would break those rules for pleasure. I would spend hours at his apartment, fearing that having him at my place would only reveal our secret. We would spend most of that time in each other ’ s arms, exploring each other ’ s thoughts, dreams, and desires. 
 
 But I could feel the suspicions rising amongst the guys. I would often ditch them after work without any specific reason. They said I had changed. Fear of them finding out had me steering clear from my nightly desires. I stopped going over to his place and started hanging out with the guys more. It was time for me to grow up and stop encouraging these ridiculous fantasies. This was real life and not a fairy tale. I eventually cut off all communication and he was finally out of my life, and I was finally normal. 
 
 My eyes looked back into his as the memories cleared from my head. Fury and rage engulfed me. I was just starting to get better. I was finally normal again! “ Why the fuck won ’ t you leave me alone?! ” 
 Tears started to flow from his eyes as his hand grabbed at my jeans. I looked down at his hand, feeling that soft touch once more and I could n't take it any longer. I lunged forward, raising the butt of my pistol and slamming it down to his face. That pretty face that I woke up to every morning, feeling happy for the day to come. **WHACK** Those eyes that would beckon me to perform acts of lust and desire that brought me so much pleasure. **WHACK** That touch that made me realize where my affections truly lie. **WHACK** That is *not* me **WHACK** This is *your* fault **WHACK** I am *normal* **WHACK** And you ’ re a 
 
 “ Faggot! ” 
 
 **WHACK** 
 
 I took a deep breath as the prosecutor approached me. Even now, I could hear his petty cries echoing in the courtroom. The room fell silent now, except for the clacking of shoes that walked towards me. I could feel the cold sweat on my back. This was my last chance to prove to them who I truly am. The sound of my name knocked me out of my trance and I looked up to the prosecutor, waiting for some kind of response. I looked desperately into his eyes, looking for some kind of answer to what his question was. 
 
 “ How do you plead? ” he repeats. 
 
 My eyes grazed the crowd of people in the courtroom, feeling the pressure of this moment. I look back at the prosecutor, breathing in a shaky breath. With all my strength, I am able to speak but one word. 
 
 “ Normal ” 

