I am Weird - SCP Foundation

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My name is Atlas Keyestone. And I'm weird.

All my life, people have been telling me that I'm weird. I've come to accept it, come to embrace it. It's a part of who I am now. But I haven't always felt this way.

When I was 5, I got in trouble for asking my mother what the noises coming out of her and my father's room were. She told me that the things she had explained to me were only for older kids to know, and adults to do. And that she didn't want to tell me. I was confused, why had she told me then? I made sure to not ask too many questions to her after that. Through my bedroom door that night I heard her tell my dad that I was weird.

When I was 10, I gave a card to a girl I had a crush on for valentine's day. She called me weird, and all her friends laughed. I told my mother, and she said no matter what she'd always love me. I asked her if she still loved me even though I felt like a boy and liked girls. That time, she gave me an answer I understood.

When I was 12, I cut my hair short and started wearing boys clothes. Some of the kids called me weird, one of the basketball kids said I was a dyke and punched me. I asked him why and he told me his mom liked girls and he hated her. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth he called me a freak and punched me again. His friends were laughing at him too, and I almost felt bad. Most of my friends stopped talking to me, but my mom told me that meant they were never good friends. I asked her to start calling me Atlas, and she nodded and gave me a hug.

When I was 14, I was invited out to a party with the popular kids. A boy named Mark gave me a drink, and I accepted it. I must've passed out, because I woke up in a different room. My legs felt weird. When I got home, I asked my brother what he thought happened. He told me Mark had done bad things to me. I felt sick. The next day after school, My brother drove me and him to Mark's house. When he opened the door, my brother punched him over and over again, until Mark's parents came out. A month later, we moved to New York.

When I was 16, I started HRT. For the first time in my life I liked being weird. My therapist tells me that this is a good thing, and I agree. My brother moves away for college, but tells me I can visit whenever I want.

When I'm 24, my father passes away. At the funeral, there are men I don't recognize. I ask them how they knew my father, and they tell me they were part of his 'mobile task force'. I don't know what that is, so I make them tell me.

I'm 27 now, and I work at the same place my father did. Everybody calls me Atlas here, nobody tells me I'm weird. I meet my grandfather for the first time. He tells me how he became weird too. I've been weird every day for 27 years. I don't feel weird anymore. I have to be careful what questions I ask, but I've always had to do that. I haven't been called Tessa in years. That's someone else though.

I am Atlas Keyestone.

And I am weird.