A Bitter Sweet Life

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any characters real, or previously existing is purely coincidence and is not meant to reflect in anyway, their feelings, actions or otherwise. This story contains vivid descriptions of unprotected and protected sexual acts between consenting individuals and minors, but does not in any way intend to condone such behaviour; paedophilia is a crime for those of you who are unaware. If such material is illegal in your area, discontinue reading immediately. I will not be held liable for any problems or criminal convictions you may encounter. If you do engage in sexual intercourse with strangers, always use a condom, AIDS is a reality. Other than that, this story is protected by copyright laws, and any redistribution, copying or citing with the intent of passing it off as your own work, with the exception of nifty.org, without the express written permission of the author is strictly prohibited.

Geez, I apologise for such a brutal disclaimer guys, but it is necessary to protect myself and my work. Anyway enjoy the story and if you have any comments (not about the disclaimer!!!) please send them to:

I sat there stunned by her revelation, not only had Helen lost a son, but now that arrogant investigator was going to try and pin this on her. I felt anger boiling inside me.

"How am I going to tell his father?" she asked. "He is going to blame me for this, I know it." I reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it. "I will always be here for both of you." I said.

We were both silent for what seemed like eternity. She pulled a tissue out of her purse and wiped just under her eyes where some moisture was forming. I felt myself choking up, and I looked outside to the setting sun. Her phone rang, and she answered,

"Hello?" She looked at me, shocked. "John?" I drew in my breath. "John...John...John, our baby, our baby." She was absolutely hysterical now, the tears flowing from her eyes. John's voice was just loud enough for me to hear.

"What is it Helen...s-slow down, what? What's happened?" he asked completely confused.

"What's happened to Danny is he hurt? Is he sick? Talk to me Helen!" he was shouting now.

"He's d...dead." She looked even more grief stricken now than she had when I had seen her earlier.

"What, what do you mean, Helen what happened?" his voice was almost a whisper. This set off something inside of me. I remembered something my mother had told me on her death bed, I was only fifteen...

"Come nearer." She motioned me with her hand. I moved next to her bed. The hospital ward had that smell of methylated freshness. Her skin had lesions from the failed chemotherapy treatment, and it was pale.

"Don't say that." I said, not wanting to believe her, even though I knew it was true.

"Shhh... I've lived a good life. But I have never had the chance to really speak to you. To teach you what I know." She stopped and started to cough.

"Are you ok?" I asked. "Do you need a glass of water?" she waived me off with her hand and continued after she had composed herself.

"You are my only child, and I love you" she took my hand and squeezed it gently. I smiled at her, even though I could feel the tears welling up and clouding my vision. It was not a smile of happiness or contentedness, rather of desperation, not knowing what else to do. My heart was breaking, and I was failing to come to terms with the fact that I was about to lose her. I felt a lump rise in my throat, and the first tear made its way down my face.

"Hush now, my child." She said in barely more than a whisper. "Listen to what I have to say, and carry it in your heart always." I looked at the floor, and a single tear fell on the otherwise clean tiles.

"Death is a part of life, my son, and it will follow you wherever you go. There is no escaping it, as you can see, my time has come, and I must go." She smiled weakly, but her eyes were also filling with tears. It was hurting her that her time had come so soon.

"But know this, I have lived a full life, therefore you must do the same. Always tell the one you love just how much you love them, because you never know when they will go. Never go away from a conversation without telling someone how you really feel. And never hold a grudge, it just makes your soul ugly, and feeds your enemy's strength. When you are in unfamiliar land, try your best not to make enemies, for you don't know the land well enough to fight a battle with them. Trust me they will win. And have more than one child, because losing your only child is like losing yourself, and you can never have that back. A second child eases the pain. I always told your father that, but he never listened. And remember to wash behind your ears when I'm gone." We both let out a weak laugh at that, but that could never take away the sadness and the pain I was feeling at that very moment...

That had fed my passion to become a doctor, to make a difference in the world. I looked at Helen; she had hung up the phone. Always have more than child my mother had said, it eases the pain. That did not seem like the case here, it really hurt her to lose Danny.

"Yes and we can pick up Michael on the way. Anyway I really don't trust myself behind the wheel of a car right now." She picked up her purse, leaving her untouched coffee on the table. I walked her to my car. As I was ushering her into the passenger seat, she said something that surprised the hell out of me. "Michael is lucky to have you, and I can tell you two are more than friends." She looked squarely at me for a reaction. I was stunned, I just fiddled with my keys, and I could feel my face burning up. "Don't worry about it," she continued "I knew from the moment I saw you hugging him." I felt my energy draining, my shoulders drooped. "Don't worry. It's alright, my son has good judgment, and I trust him." the silence after that last sentence was heavy. I could not stand it. I switched the radio on to jacaranda fm. Lionel Ritchie filled drowned the silence. I reversed out of the parking lot, and we drove quietly the rest of the way to my house.

"You have a very nice house David. How do you manage being so young and having so much money?" she asked

"Well my father made sure that I worked hard through school, I went to university when I was 17. My father passed away when I was 19, this was his house. That was quite painful, considering my mother passed away when I was only 15. But he was a genius when it came to finances; the house and my inheritance were tax free when I got them. I worked hard through university, paying for myself. I qualified when I was 23, but there was no one to celebrate with. I have been pretty much alone since then. Well that is until Mike came into the picture." I looked at her. Her eyes looked misty. I pulled open the glove compartment and gave her a tissue; she wiped her eyes with it.

"I can't imagine what it must have been like for you, having to be all alone like that." I managed a weak smile at her concern.

"Sure, but before we do, can I ask you for a favour?" she looked at me for approval.

"Well we've all been through a lot, and personally, neither I nor Michael wants to stay in that house for a while. Would I be imposing greatly upon you if I asked you to take us to that hotel in First Street after we see his father? Well seeing as I don't have my car with me right now anyway."

"Oh Helen, you don't have to do that, you can stay here with me for a while. The house is definitely big enough for the three of us." I said looking at her hopefully. To be completely honest I hated living in the house alone, and I did not mind having company. She sighed as she thought for a while.

"Well alright." She said. "We'll stay, but only for a while, anyway I don't think I could argue with you and win!" She said jovially. I laughed genuinely for the first time that day. We got out of the car and headed for the house. I opened the door, to find Mike in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge for the sandwiches. His hair was wet, so I assumed he had taken a shower. He looked up from the fridge and smiled. I don' think I had seen him smile at al that day. "Hi." He said

"Michael. How come you did not tell me about David? He is such a wonderful guy." She said, making me blush.

"Well I have to go back home, I need to speak with your father." She said. Mike's impression changed, that sadness was back again.

"Well if you want to come." She said "It's up to you. After all you haven't seen your father in over a month now."

"Yes I will come with you. I need to speak to him anyway." He said. The idea of us having coffee here would be absurd, I thought to myself.

We made our way out of the house and into my car. We drove silently to their house. All the lights were off. Suddenly Helen said "Shit, I forgot my house keys in the glove compartment of my car!"

As we were getting out of the car, another one pulled up beside us. It was a Range Rover. A good looking guy stepped out of the passenger side. He looked just like an older version of Mike. I assumed it was his dad. He looked grief stricken. He walked slowly up to where we were standing. He could barely hold himself up. He looked first at Michael, then at Helen, and he started to weep. This started Michael and his mother crying as well, as the day's events started to flood their memories. I felt the lump rising in my throat, making it difficult for me to breathe. My chest was heavy and I started to heave. The tears started to flow freely down my face. I was shivering uncontrollably. I felt arms go around me. It was Mike. I hugged him with all my strength. I realised after a while that his dad had come out of the passenger side, so there must have been a driver. I looked over to the car, and there, leaning on the door of the car was a really cute guy. What was his name again? Henry, something...Bule. Yes that was it, Henry Bule. He looked much younger than I had expected, he could not have been more than thirty by the look of him. He looked strangely familiar. I let go of Michael and wiped the tears from my eyes.

I walked over to the car extending my hand for him to shake. Instead of taking it, he opened his arms and drew me into a hug, burying his head in my shoulder. He started to weep gently. I was taken aback, this was someone I had not even spoken to, and here I was hugging him. I just rubbed his back gently, not knowing what else to do. When he calmed down enough he looked at me and said "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Seeing John crying like that really hurts me."

"Yes I know." He said. I gave him a quizzical look. "You have forgotten me already?" he said smiling. I knew he looked familiar, but where had I seen him before?

"We nearly dated almost 3 years ago. Remember that website dating service?" he asked. Realisation hit me and he must have seen it because he said "There you go, you remember now don't you?" I nodded. I remembered his picture on the website. It was him but then he had a goatee back then.

"Definitely. How have you been?" I asked remembering our wild conversations and phone sex sessions. We had never actually met until now. I must admit, I had never (and I still don't) masturbated so many times a day and as wildly as I did during those two weeks. It had just kind of fizzled out after that. I must admit though, his voice was sexy. It had that deep Brazilian accent that just drove me crazy.

"Shall we go inside?" Helen called out to us. Her voice was filled with trepidation, even though she tried to hide it. I sympathised with her. Having to go back inside the house was tough. Although I am sure the police had the house cleaned by now, they could never wipe away the memories that hung over the house like a shroud.

Well guys I think this is a good place to stop. Let me know what you think: pragmaticstories@yahoo.co.uk. I will try my best to respond to every email. Thank you for showing so much support guys. Keep reading, things are starting to get interesting in Dave's life. If you would like a reminder as to when the next chapter is out, just send me an email asking to be put on the reminder list. See you in chapter 5!