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Thursday, February 2, 2012


When dropping me off at college, Mom warned me about fraternities, telling me not to get involved with one, "you're not quite, um, fraternity material, sweetie," she told me before leaving as she carefully arranged some flowers on my chest of drawers, "at least not in the, um, traditional way."

"What do you mean, Mother," I asked, innocently.

"Sweetie, you know you're my special boy, how you're not like the other boys."

I agreed, but later in the week, at the urging of my dorm's resident advisor, found myself taking the fraternity tour just the same with all the male freshmen. And, to my surprise, I thought my mother was wrong as several fraternities seemed to be very interested in having me join their pledge class.

Thrilled to finally fit in with the other boys, I picked the fraternity most interested in me. Things were going great the first day. Until evening.

That night, I thought I was still incredibly lucky, as when the other new pledges were sent off on some stupid scavenger hunt, I was invited into basement, the place pledges were absolutely forbidden to go without an escort.

Turns out there was a reason I was so special, a reason they took particular interest in me, a reason a mousey, soft, and far from masculine boy was invited to a special place in their house. And, as much as what they said was going to happen scared me, I couldn't turn and walk up the stairs. Not that they wouldn't let me, no, I was free to go, but that I didn't want to go.

Source | Trapsicles:

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