Cez Presents: The Museum Riot

Date: 12/11/2018

I dreamt that my partner was staying over for a few days in the city. I was partially excited also because I bought a yellow dildo online and it would be the first time it would be used. After the hour trip to my apartment (and 2 bowls of soup), my partner confessed that the long trip had worn them out. Despite typically being a top, I suggested I put on a show for them while they watched. Although my first hesitations, I found the change desirable and exciting. The next day we heard about this huge protest that was going to occur at the Witney that week. According to the papers, a very famous gay painting was being taken down from public display because it was considered "too visual for the public" and there were many complaints to take it down. It was a Dada depiction of Matt Shepard as Jesus Christ on the cross. In my opinion, it wasn't the best picture. It was just ok, but it got the point across. However, certain art church groups were offended with this depiction, and made complaints to take it down. Which, LGBTQ groups argued would erase representation of queer people from museums, and that there was so little to begin with despite there being many queer people in art. The demonstration was set to occur within the museum the day it was to be taken down, and the group would surround the painting with picket signs We decided, heck, this is a good excuse as any to go to the museum, and after we could buy sodas and walk in the museum garden and on the highline. Except that never happened. When we got to the museum, it was congested. Hundreds of gatherers were there, screaming and chanting. The police had barred anyone from going in or out of the museum, but we were able to see the curator push and shove with his entourage of security guards through the crowd. The curator dismantled the artwork and the crowd went wild. My partner suggested that we leave, and that they were getting an ear ache, but I pleaded to stay a little longer "For The Cause". At that moment of time, we had no idea that the police had barred off the museum and that there was no way out. Forty dream minutes in, we were bored, and I suggested we should head back. They weren't looking too good and I was nauseous from the claustrophobia. As I turned towards the exit, that's when I saw them. The white men in polo shirts. They had guns and fishing knives and camo. "Alright boys, take out as many faggots as you can see. Shoot the ones that run, but use your knife too. don't waste your bullets on the crowd." The museum spun into chaos and I lost my partner in the crowd. I heard bullets ring out, but from the confusion I didn't know where. They knew we'd be venerable and had rounded us up. It was like catching fish in a barrel. I just stood still as the mob moved around me, pushing and pulling. I heard someone cry out for their friend and a kid with rain bow flags in their hair tend to their gorged out eye. I didn't even realize that I had been slashed in the arm and chest, I was too focused on the walls speckled red. There was a knife on the ground. I took it and stabbed it through my jean pocket. I immediately threw my pride pin on the ground. Two 16 year old trans girls were on the floor. One was writhing on the ground as the other one loudly sobbed. I moved toward them. The girl had a deep wound on her stomach. "Shh,, it's ok, I'm here. How deep do you think this wound is?" The teen only trembled and pointed "Th...they did this to her!! They... oh... Dios mío the monsters." "Im going to make a turnikit, alright? But your job is to move her body when I say so. The more we linger here the less chances there are to survive." The girl on the floor wheezed through her caked mascara "I can't.....move." Her friend shot me a glare. "How the fuck do you expect her to move? She can bearly fuckin stand up!" "There is a greater chance that she'll live if she can get help from the outside. If she stays here, she'll bleed out and you both will be shot dead." I stared up at halls of blood stained works of art. "¿Comprenden?" In reality, I had no idea whether my turnicut would even work. I just tied loose jackets and flags together tightly around the wound. I have no medical experience, nor medical training for chest wounds. The teen held the coat sleeves around the victim in a sort of spine sling. And slung the girls arm around her shoulders at my suggestion. I put my hand to my lip and guided them through the maddness. "I believe an exits this way. You go on without me." "But what about us?! She still needs help!" "More people means that we could attract more attention. Good luck." I made a mad dash to the other wing of the museum. I could hear the echoing cries from the gift shop. I couldn't find my lover, but there were alt right and queer people alike shoving and pushing at the emergency exit door for freedom. I couldn't get close enough to the door. When the doors finally gave in the sound of the emergency door siren rang out. There was a team of SWAT lined up behind the police bars. And then they started shooting at the mob. I ran for cover, and ran to the east wing. I saw several Nazis fighting against themselves, cutting each other with their knives "ADMIT IT!" One said. "You feel bad for them don't you?!" I snuck past the group. I was outside. I saw the hundreds of police cars parked, but scarcely anyone there. A lesbian couple ran ahead of me, past pillars of marble. I saw them fall to the ground instantly. Two girls dressed in camo stood in front of the bodies, their guns still hot. "Come out from there, we can still see you." I gave my best rendition of a gut laugh. "Oh! Well I guess you found me! Guilty as charged, eh? You know I could've handled these two?" I pulled out my knife and smiled. "I'm just not that quick enough with a knife." They stared at me suspiciously, and nodded. I nudged one of the bodies with my boot, to avoid trembling. "Shit. Where'd your gun go?" "Lost it. In the mob. " The big one grunted. "a damn shame really," the smaller one gestured. "Gretchen used her knife to notch her gun." She displayed it proudly. I could count 14 or more "How many have you got?" I shifted nervously towards the door. "Uh, three?" "Three?" "Yes" "Just three?" The small one squinted at me. "You're not,,,, """triggered""", are you?" "I-no-I'm-not-I-love-killing-fags." She pressed me back against the wall. "I don't believe you. You know what I think?" She pointed her knife at me. "I. Think...." "THAT YOU'RE A BABY." and then I woke up.