Angels in Disguise: how some parents are trying to get me fired 'cause I'm gay...

I work at a religious school. Not fully religious, but dependent of an Islamic Institution. I knew when I started working here that my being gay could be a problem, but I didn't have a choice. And being same sex marriage fully legal in Argentina, where I live, I decided to go along with the job. After two years, I've become one of the most important teachers at school -not a matter of humbleness or not, just that I work in all levels-. I teach English in Kindergarten, Primary School and High School, from the 3 year-old classroom, up until senior year in secondary school. Three months ago, I posted something online about my being gay, on my FB page, and someone read it. And the rumors began. When it finally reacher the Heads, the Head of Primary and the Head of Secondary school came talk to me and assured me they had no problem with it. One of them just advised me to be careful because some people may not like it. One of the people who found out, a floating teacher from Kinder, started trashing my work around. Saying I'm a bad a teacher. She has a son in 4th grade, and I teach him. And she started making wild complaints about our job, mine and two other teachers', the Head's management, everything. She even asked for a meeting to discuss my work. The Head of Primary told her and her Husband that she was the one to choose a teacher, and that she fully trusted my work, and my whole persona. Of course, the gay topic didn't arise. They are not that stupid. Finally, they got other parents worked up, and we had a meeting with 6 parents, the legal Rep from the school, as it's private, the other two English Teachers and my Head. And it was just poisonous. This mother, with whom I still work, and her husband were just spitting lies and criticism all around. The husband even said that I shouldn't be working with little children because I'm a man. (I want to make a short clarification: I'm an English Teacher, I have second career on Linguistics, and am doing a Masters Degree on Language Acquisition. There are few people where I work that can say have my background experience on teaching and Lang Acquisition I do. I've been teaching English for 10 years, and I'm 28. ). Well, the point of this post is actually see if you like my Story.PS: the angels are this mother/teacher and her husband... :)He suit up as ha’d done for every other battle he had encountered before. He put on his armor; not his most shiny armor, nor his strongest armor, nor the one with which he had conquered the basilisk, or the gryphon. No. He suit up with a strong, reliable armor, because what he held within was most powerful than any helmet, breastplate, or sword he could find. He got up with a strange yet familiar feeling. A feeling that premeditated what kind of battle he’d have to face. It was an all too trustworthy feeling. Trustowrthy because he could bring himself to fight knowing how the battle would turn up. But that same feeling was also utterly and unequivocally terrifying. It was the feeling he had encountered prior to slaying the Meduse headless. It was the feeling that had tried to eat him whole that night he mutilated the Sphinx. It was the feeling he’d now forever more link directly to that very day: the feeling of poison fighting to spread through his body; the feeling of his limps, and muscles, and blood, and brain, trying to give in to those droplets of the most destructive of substances. He went along with his routine, as he’d done prior to any battle. He had his bread, drank his wine, and washed his face. He looked in the mirror and smiled. He knew for sure that, however frightening this day could turn up to be, no matter the injuries he could end up with, he could see a clear reflection. He could see his eyes, full of bravery and strength. He could see his mouth, which would only speak for the greater good, even if by some reason it didn’t seem so. He could see his full on countenance, which he had shaped to become what others had called ‘heroic, genius, great’, but that he could only see and refer to as ‘man’. That word was all he had fought for. That was all his master, his friend, his brother, his progenitor had sought to give him. The actual elixir of life: a clear conscious, and a never-ending will. As he rode his black indomitable horse, his station, he felt the rush of the battle. Like an Amazon Warrior, like Donna Troy facing danger, he rushed to it. He didn’t fight it. He didn’t even question it, though most of his kin could not but question his thrive. No. He went for it. When he saw and heard the clashing of metal, the dripping of blood, he had but one choice: to grip his sword harder, and slay. The sun shone high, foreseeing the battle. Apolo wanted to be in the first row to witness what he knew would be a spectacle of which generations on and on would discuss: the slaying of the angels in disguise. He arrive at the scene, and saw the familiar faces which would fight alongside him for the day, or month, or year this could last. He saw them confident, strong, and also caring. They were there out of the purity of their hearts, out of the kindness of their ways, and out of the justice within their souls. And then he saw her. The tiredless wizard which linked them all. The wizard to whom they all turned to for help, assistance, aid of all kinds. The wizard that had seen in them something more than simple fighters. The wizard that saw through their hearts and found a little piece of God hidden within their flesh. The wizard was all they had, and the angels in disguise were coming for him too. The angels had been brought together by a very dark and forbidden magic. A conjuring that could only bring desease and pity to all but the ones involved. A ritual so ancient that the very core of its power was to remain nameless for centuries, had it not been for Vaco and Saab who unleashed it after all those years. They glimpsed into each others eyes, and found something entirely different to what the wizard saw in iL, the warrior. They saw a scrap of the unknown; they saw a souvenir that came from the very depths of the Earth, that stank of fire and flesh. They saw hell hidden within their eyes, and their eyes met with a dangerous beauty which not even God himself would dare to oppose. And yet, iL did. iL had no choice, but to meet their glance. Unknown to iL, as he, Mikha, Jidda and the Wizard gathered at the battlefield, the angels Vaco and Saab connived and lurked around them. Unknown to iL, they had brought friends. They had brought specters, zombies, animals once human who had been destroyed by staring too long at their eyes, and had now become but shallow vessels in which souls used to reside. However, they were not forces to be dismissed so easily. Specters could seem harmless and weak, iL thought, but they are a force to reckon with. AN urgent matter took him elsewhere for a few minutes, not knowing the Wizard had been too cocky. For an instant, he thought of taking the battle upon himself, to spare the pain and sadness and destruction Vaco and Saab had been preparing. When he, Mikha and Jidda arrived at the battleground at last, the sight of the angels brought them to tears, and the swords they were gripping seemed to be knocked of their hands. Mikha’s bow even seem to vibrate tensiously at the sound of their screaching voices vomitting poison to the Wizard. Mikha and Jidda were blown off guard, but they saw iL and felt it. The power with which this man had been born. The Wizard had said it all along, and they had seen it through countless battles, but it was not until this very second that they were able to understand what it all meant. It was not the piece of glory hidden in his flesh. It was not the strength of his muscles, nor the grip of his sword, nor the intelligence of his mind. It was the will which he bore inside and could never be shut off, not even buy this two headed demon that had awakened to destroy him, what gave Jidda and Mikha strength. iL gripped his sword and blew a punch, with one of the specters jumping on to him. He scratched the air trying to rip his limps off, but he was all to prepared for that. He blew a shot at him, and managed to only kill another of the specters, a weakling one. The Wizard kept on going, but it seemed as if the angels in disguise had figured out a protective spell against the Wizard’s magic, so they were just spells going to waste. Not that the Wizard was ever going to stop fighting: he knew what he was fighting for, and he was not going to let the angels win. Jidda grabbed her maze and swing at them, a powerful and strong blow, but the disgusting and decaying hands of the specters stopped the blow from reaching the angels. They were hiding behind them like cubs behind their mother bear. But they went on with heir poisonous tongues, trying to melt iL’s face with their fluids. Two of the specters went down, but the strongest of them found strength in that, and kept on attacking. Mikha took an arrow, placed it on the bow, and shot. It came inches from ripping the specters head off, but a blow of acid breath from Vaco destroyed the arrow mid air. But it did hurt the specter. Suddenly, when the specter seemed to be retreating, Vaco and Saab came running back to the battle. They were furious, and came with all they had. They were fast as Mercury, and their blows and hits as accurate as the best Archers in the Eastern Empires. They went after Mikha first. Vaco melted the floor underneath her feet, while Saab swing at her with a black sword. Just when it seemed it was all over for Mikha, iL came with his black Horse, at full speed, and saved her from death. But she was too injured to continue, so iL left her someplace safe and returned to Battle. The Wizard was face to face with the Specter, who was moving towards his heart: it was hungry. Jidda was handling Vaco and Saab on her own, as iL approached the battle and decided he had had enough. He caught his hand and covered the sword with his blood. The Wizard had once told him, ‘THere’s nothing more powerful than your blood, because within it runs the power of will. It’s not God nor the Devil what keeps the stars apart and the planets doing their cosmic dance. It’s will, and you’ve got more than I ever saw in a person’. With his sword dripping of his own blood, he approached the Spectre and with a move that it couldn’t even begin to dodge, ripped the head of the abomination. iL took the Wizard by the hand, lift him, on to his horse, and they rode together towards where Jidda was testing the devil’s patience: the angels in disguise were becoming stronger and stronger. ‘That’s their power’, iL thought. ‘They are feeding of everything that surrounds them, as they started doing when they cast the spell that brought them together. I need to stop them now’. The Wizard put his very own Bahka from his neck to that of iL. ‘What are you doing Beet? Without this, you’ll die within seconds!’, said iL. ‘Yes, I’m well aware of that. But Mikha, Jidda, you, the world will live. The angels must be vanquished’, answered the Wizard. ‘I’m not accepting this. Your wisdom is necess-‘ ‘Shut up, and do as told! There’s little time, and the world is on the tip of your sword. Save it!’. AS he said this, the Wizard jumped of his horse and fell, becoming nothing but dust… First his Master, and now the Wizard. iL kept on riding, facing the battle. This is what he had been born for. IT was this very moment. The moment in which he would save the world. Not because he was asked to, not because he wanted to. He was saving the world because, for him, there was no other way but this. He had to slay the angels. ‘Ahhhhhhhh!!!!’, shouted as he flew of his horse, landing within the two angels. They didn’t see him coming. He cut the left leg of Vaco, and Saab came creeping towards him, but he was ready. He flipped backwards, and then jumped towards it piercing the joint of Saab’s right arm. He twisted, and as the poison dripped over his sword, the blood he had spilled on it went into Saab’s body. And the angel started screeching harder and harder, painfully, not knowing what had hit him. But Vaco wasn’t just letting this happen. The angel rushed toward iL with renewed hate within its eyes, and Jidda was prepared for it. She hit the angel in disguise so hard on the head, the it fell and landed on the bloody mud. ‘Jidda!!’, cried iL, throwing the sword to her. Jidda took it, and cut Vaco’s head off with a clean cut, as Saab cried of pain and started melting. Jidda and iL saw as the two angels in disguise, the most ruin and terrible creatures the world had ever seen became nothing but muddy figures swollen by the earth. Mikha joined them, and she and Jidda cried. They cried for all those they had lost. They cried for the pain it had caused, but also for the light they had shed and was to come. iL just stood there, knowing. Knowing his faith would always be there. His power would always be there. As poisonous as the enemy would get, he had faith in his veins. The faith that this muddy battlefield was worth living, because there was nothing but that. And he walked away.