The Boy on the Mailbox by Booknookgurl
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Prayers for Bobby nor am I affiliated with the Griffin family. I am not benefiting from writing this in any way and have no relation to anyone in this story. (In fact I haven't even read the book Prayers for Bobby yet so I don't actually know if this was a scene added in or if this actually happened in real life.)
A/N: Hey everyone! I'm not completely dead! I found this on an old flash drive while looking for a copy of Sending You Pictures on The Road (which I have yet to find/re-write -_-) When I first watched Prayers for Bobby I felt really moved by the end when Mrs. Griffin hugs the boy. It got me thinking about how much one small action could have such a huge impact and this is what I ended up writing. I hope you enjoy!
He didn't know why he was at the parade. Scratch that, he did know why. He'd wanted proof that there were actually others like him out there. He hadn't known what to expect when he hopped on the next bus to San Francisco and made his way towards the Castro District but it certainly wasn't this. The streets were full of rainbows and scandalously clad men and women; he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by it all. Quickly and slightly awkwardly he made his way through the crowd, trying to find a place to stand, or sit, to watch the parade pass by. After a short time he found a decent spot on top of a blue mailbox. He glanced around before realizing that the cops wouldn't care if he was sitting on it or not and hoisted himself up onto the cold metal.
The cops back home would throw a fit if they saw him sitting on a mailbox. Of course they'd be even angrier about all the people wandering around half naked and flaunting their homosexuality. He sighed as he looked around. This was San Francisco, the city of peace, love, and pride. Although not all of the city was accepting as a whole the citizens were more accepting than the people back home. He tried not to think of all the names, the teasing, and the punches aimed at him over the years. He was glad to finally be rid of the town and its people. Even his parents had given up on him when they had discovered his homosexuality.
Everyone had shunned him, called him names, beat him up, or tried to save him with God once they found out and it had done him in both physically and emotionally. In the end he did the only thing he could do, he ran. He knew it was irresponsible of him, he was only 18 and going to San Francisco was about the most reckless thing he could do, but he needed to get away. Not permanently but he needed time to breathe and think about his life.
As he sat on the mail box and watched the people pass by on floats he wondered if he'd ever be like them, so open and happy, and if they had ever been like him, scared and vulnerable. He watched as float after float passed his mailbox, feeling worse and worse as the minutes crept by. Wasn't this all a sin? Wasn't it bad enough that he was thinking in such a horrible way? Now he was supporting and giving into the temptation laid out for him.
Suddenly someone in the parade broke away from her group. He wouldn't have noticed it except for the fact that he could feel her staring at him. Slowly he turned his head to look back at her. She had a nice, yet stern face that softened as she got closer to him. Maybe she mistook him for someone else? He was sure that she was mistaken as she leaned up and hugged him, although he was glad for the physical touch. It had been such a long time since someone had hugged him in such a way. In a way that made him feel loved.
Slowly the woman pulled back and looked into his eyes. She didn't have to say anything for him to know that, somehow, she cared about him. He was a stranger to her yet she looked like she genuinely cared. She smiled at him and her silent message was clear "It'll be okay. Trust me." He smiled at her, feeling his eyes well up slightly. She smiled back before pulling away, turning back towards her group, and disappearing out of his view.
It wasn't until later that he found out that the woman who had hugged him and silently have him a message to stay strong was Mary Griffin, who had become a gay rights activist after her own son killed himself because he was gay. He never saw her again after that day on Castro Street but he never forgot the look she gave him. Years later, after he had found a partner, settled down, had kids, and was growing old, he could still remember the look on her face. He could still feel her arms around him if he closed his eyes and thought hard enough. Without knowing it she had been his saving grace and because of that she would always have a special place in his heart.
A/N 2: So I hope you liked it. If any of you have read Sending You Pictures (My Harry Potter fanfic) I am slowly working on re-starting that. Anyway, reviews are love. Above all else though remember to be nice to others and reach out when you can. You never know what kind of effect it will have on someone. :)