Saving An Angel
This story is completely fictional. Any similarities to any persons or events, past or present are purely coincidental. This story may contain scenes which involve sexual situations between young males. If this type of material is offensive to you, or it is not legal for you to be reading this type of material, please do not read any further. This story is copyright © 2007 by Jason. Please do not copy this story for distribution or post on any online server without the author's permission. Please send all your comments to: firstname.lastname@example.org, or email@example.com You can also visit my site at: jasonfinigan.bravehost.com. Thanks and enjoy the story.
Tired and hungry, I sat wearily on the park bench by the lake. Anyone who passed by me, and took notice of me, would have seen a pitiful sight. My clothes were all worn and dirty, and I hadn't washed in a long time, a fact that would be noticeable to anyone who came close enough to me.
My name is Kyle Turner, and I'm ten years old. The reason I'm sitting out here in the park alone is because I have no home. My mom died about six months ago, and I never knew my father. Recently I had been living in a group home since the Children's Aid Society was unable to find a foster family willing to take me in. I guess no one wanted the burden of looking after a kid who had problems like I did.
What happened you ask? It's not easy for me to bring it up, it hurts so much. It all started about six months ago. I remember that it was winter, just shortly after Christmas. My mom and I had just finished our dinner, and we were sitting on the couch in front of the television like we always did before I had to go to bed. I loved cuddling up with her. She was so warm and loving, and I always felt safe with her. My bedtime was nine o'clock, which always seemed to come too fast. When it did, she would playfully spank my bottom and tell me to get up the stairs to brush my teeth and go to the washroom, then climb into bed.
Like all ten year olds, I didn't want to. It must be some unwritten rule for kids to beg and plead to stay up longer, even if they are so obviously tired. I know I certainly did. Not that it worked, however. Finally I relented, dragging my ten year old body up the stairs and into the bathroom. Typically, as soon as I turned on the tap in the washroom to brush my teeth, I had to go pee badly. Tooth brush still in my mouth, I stood over the toilet, raised the seat, and peed into the bowl below.
My mom waited until I had climbed into bed and had slipped my naked body under the covers before she came in to say goodnight. I have always slept in the nude for as long as I can remember, and she was okay with that.
Leaning over me, she kissed my forehead. "Good night Kyle," she said in her soft, gentle voice.
"Good night Mom," I said back to her. Had I known that those were the last words I would ever hear from my mom again, I wouldn't have gone to sleep. No one can tell the future though, and shortly after she left my room, I went to sleep.
The whole nightmare began with me waking up, but I wasn't in my bed. Scared and confused, I looked around and all I could see were faces I didn't recognize. There were flashing lights and lots of people running around. Calling out for my mom, and not hearing her respond made me scared, and I began to cry. No one was telling me what was going on and I tried to get up from where I was laying, but several hands pushed me back down.
Becoming hysterical, I began to thrash around, attempting to get away from whomever it was that wouldn't let me up. I kept hearing a woman's voice telling me that everything was going to be alright, but I didn't listen to her, dared not listen. All I could think about was my mom and how I wanted to be with her. If she was with me, then I knew everything would be okay.
A sharp stinging sensation suddenly made me stop struggling, and I looked over to see someone's hand holding a needle to my arm. Whoever it was, they were slowing plunging the needle's contents into my body. I soon began to feel week and tired, as if I had stayed up hours past my bed time. My struggles and cries got weaker, and I felt myself beginning to relax. The images I saw became blurred and dark until finally, I saw and heard no more, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I woke up screaming, finding myself in a strange room, on a strange bed. Nothing I saw around me was familiar. Calling out to my mom, I waited for her to come, but she never did. It wasn't until I had begun to cry again that the door to the room suddenly opened Instead of my mom, a younger looking lady walked into the room. She was about as tall as my mom, but instead of the brown hair that my mom had, hers was blond and was tied at the back in a pony tail.
"I'm here Kyle," she said to me softly.
"You're not my mom. I want my mommy!" I yelled.
"I'm sorry Kyle she isn't here," she said, and immediately she had a really sad look on her face.
"Where is she? Where am I? I want to go home!"
"I'm sorry Kyle, you can't go home, and your mom got hurt," she told me. The way she said it, and the fact that she couldn't look me in the eyes told me right away that something bad had happened.
"Where is she? Why can't I see her?" I demanded to know; even more scared now than I was before.
Just at that moment, the door opened again, and an older gentleman walked in, standing beside the woman who had come in earlier. "Hello Kyle. My name is Tom Delaney, and I've been assigned to your case. This here is Melissa Sanford, a friend of mine."
"No one is telling me what's going on, or where I am, or where my mom is!" I exclaimed.
"I'm sorry Kyle; the doctors had to keep you sedated because you were very upset last night. And with good reason too."
"Huh?" I questioned, confused over his words. "Sedated?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. They had to give you a shot to help you calm down and get some rest."
"Oh, but why? All I wanted was my mom, and they wouldn't let me see her."
"How much do you remember of last night?" he asked me.
"Um, not much I guess. I mean, I remember going to bed and my mom tucking me in and kissing me good night, but then when I woke up there was all these people around me and I was outside, and I couldn't find my mom."
Tom looked at Melissa briefly before looking back at me. "Kyle, do you know what the Children's Aid Society is?"
"Yeah, sure," I answered. "They help kids find homes because their mommies and daddies can't look after them. I know because my best friend Timmy was adopted and he told me all about it."
"Well, that's true Kyle, they do help children find a loving home to grow up in. But sometimes, it's not always easy to find someone a new mom or dad. And I'm sorry to say that's exactly the case with you right now."
"What do you mean?" I asked fearfully. Surely he couldn't have been suggesting that my mom didn't want me any more. I was really beginning to get scared, thinking that this man was taking me away from my mom.
"Kyle, I wish there was an easier way to say this, but last night, after you had gone to sleep, a fire started in your house. When the fire fighters finally arrived to put out the fire, both you and your mom were found in your beds." At this point he put his hand on mine, holding it gently. "It might have been because you were farther away from the smoke, and your door was closed, but you were the only one we found in the house still alive. Kyle, your mom died in the fire. I'm so sorry."
"NO!" I cried, curling up into a ball on the bed. I could feel arms being wrapped around me, pulling me close to someone, but I didn't care. My mom was gone, and she wasn't coming back. I was alone, with no one to love me any more. More than anything I wished that it was my mom who was holding me, but I knew that I would never again be able to cuddle with her like I used to.
It took me a long time to accept the fact that my mom was dead, and that I would never see her again. The funeral was held the following week, and all I can remember was seeing my mom's face in the casket before they put her into the ground. Melissa was with me the whole time. mommy mom and I had no other family. Her parents never came to the funeral, which wasn't unexpected, since neither of them really got along with Mom in the first place.
I saw Tom and Melissa a lot those days. Melissa, who was a nurse that works with the Children's Aid Society, or CAS as they are more commonly known as, took me in to live for a while. She was really nice, and tried to make me happy and feel wanted, but what I really wanted was my mom back. Almost every night I went to bed and cried myself to sleep. Every night I wished that my mom would come to tuck me in and kiss me goodnight like she used to. That was never going to happen though. While Melissa did mean well, and did her best, she wasn't Mom.
Tom, on the other, hand only stopped by to see me once a week to see how I was doing. I didn't really like him much, which I suppose isn't fair because he has always been nice to me, but I think it was because he was the one who told me Mom wouldn't be coming back, and that hurt. Tom had told me that he was a worker with the CAS, and that he was trying to find a home for me to live in. He said wasn't very easy because of my age, and because of what I had been through. Eventually, I did end up in a place, though it wasn't what you could call home, more like a shelter for unwanted children.
A few weeks after living with Melissa, Tom moved me into a group home, which he said was the only place left that he could find willing to take me in. The floor I was living on housed several kids my age. I shared my room with another kid, Greg, who was eleven years old. He reminded me a little of Timmy, my friend from before. He had the same hair, and was about the same size, though I think Timmy was a little skinnier.
My first week there was okay I guess. A lot of the kids there were nice to me and tried to get me to play with them. Sometimes I did, usually only when Greg was playing as well. He and I really did get along.
Things started getting better for me after a couple months of living there. I had made new friends, and Tom had found a social worker to come see me to talk about my feelings about losing Mom, and how I was doing. The social worker was funny. I couldn't help but giggle at some of the jokes he told. His name was Erik, and I felt so comfortable talking to him about anything.
One thing I told him about though, was that some of the older kids were beginning to pick on us younger ones. There was this one boy in particular, Gary was his name. He went to a local high school, and was known as a bully there. He only recently came to the group home. Some of the kids said he was there because his father used to beat him and call him names.
So far hadn't picked on me, but I know that Greg had a couple runs in with him. I came into our room one day and found Greg laying face down on his bed, crying. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me nothing. I kept asking him though, because I knew he wasn't telling me the truth. Finally he told me that Gary had cornered him in the bathroom earlier and made him do things to his privates, and that he didn't want to.
Not knowing what else to do, I told him that he had to tell Beverly, the woman who lived on the same floor with the rest of the kids. He got suddenly scared and told me that he can't do that, because if he did, Gary would hurt him even worse.
Gary was perhaps fourteen years old, although he looked much older. He had black hair and was almost as tall as Tom was, which was pretty tall to me. For the most part, I was able to stay out of his way, and I tried to not end up alone with him anywhere, except once, and that was a day I will never forget.
I had just finished in the bathroom on our floor. It was a large bathroom with three showers stalls and four toilet stalls behind them. It was just after lunch and Greg and I were supposed to be playing basketball with a couple of other kids who I had made friends with there, but I had to go pee really badly. Just as I was about to leave, Gary and three of his friends came in. Those four always hung out together, both at school and at the group home.
"Well, look what we have here," Gary snickered walking up to me, with his three friends circling around me, making it impossible for me to get away. "You know, I don't think we've been introduced. My name's Gary, and you know what? This is your lucky day, 'cause you and I are going to be best friends," he said, leering at me. I knew I was in trouble, and started to call out, when one of his friends placed their hand over my mouth.
"No, I don't think you want to do that. We wouldn't want to see you get hurt now would we?" he asked sarcastically.
This was no good, and I knew it. I had heard stories about Gary from some of the other kids who lived here. Nothing Gary ever did was good, and it seemed I had entered his cross hairs.
"You know," Gary said, looking at me from head to toe. "I don't think we've been properly introduced." His other two buddies came around to stand beside me, each of them on either side grabbing my arms, and holding me in place.
"Please, Gary," I pleaded with him, now very scared and close to crying. "Leave me alone! Let me go!"
"No, I don't think so," he said smugly, as I saw him begin to undo his pants. "You and I, Kid, are going to get to know each other very well."
I cannot describe to you the pain and humiliation that I had to endure in that bathroom, and he enjoyed it. The more he hurt me, the better he liked it. Crying and in pain, he and his buddies looked at me lying naked on the cold floor. They laughed and joked, furthering my suffering. They walked calmly out of the bathroom, having no regard for me whatsoever, and acting as if what they had done to me was completely normal.
Not wanting anyone to see me like this, I carefully got dressed, several times wincing in pain while putting my pants back on. Hurrying out of the bathroom, tears streaming down my face, I knew what I had to do. I ran to the room I shared with Greg, and gathered up as many of my personal possessions that I could carry in my school bag. Throwing the bag over my shoulder, and checking to make sure that I couldn't be seen, I snuck out the side door of the building, and began to run. I dared not stop, not even to catch my breath for fear that someone would catch me and bring me back to that place. I would never go back there, I'd rather die first.
For the next couple months, I survived by finding scraps of food people left behind in the garbage, and drank from water that restaurants gave me. I knew that the group home would have people out looking for me, so I stayed hidden as much as I could, not drawing any attention to myself. It didn't take too long for me to learn how to blend in with the crowds, despite my age.
That's how I found myself sitting alone out here on this park bench with no one to love me, and no one to take care of me, except myself. Just once, I wished that someone like my mom would come by and love me like she did, and never leave me. Things like that only happened in fairy tales I knew, and I resigned myself to having to do all I could to survive on my own for now.
It was getting late. Ignoring the weariness I felt in my legs, I got up off the bench and slowly made my way to the beach. My mind wandered back to the times when my mom and I came to the beach. We had such a good time then. Now she was gone, and those days of having fun and playing with my friends were over. Eventually I found my spot in the bushes at the far end of the beach. No longer being able to stand I slipped bonelessly to the ground, and curled up into a little ball, falling asleep immediately.
My sleep was suddenly interrupted by a voice calling out and a hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me. There wasn't any way I could tell for how long I had been sleeping in the bushes, but I could tell that it was at least morning by the amount of light there was from the sun.
Kneeling over me, with a hand resting on my shoulder, I saw a young man; he must have been in his twenties, if not more. Suddenly I became aware of where I was and why I was here and I backed away from him, scared that he might try something with me, like Gary had.
"Don't hurt me Mister," I cried.
"Hey, it's okay," the man said reassuringly. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." He certainly didn't look like he was mean or anything, which made me relax a little. When he saw that I wasn't so defensive anymore, one of the most warm and gentle smiles I had ever seen lit up his face. It kind of reminded me of the smile my mom used to give me whenever she was proud of something I had done, or if we were having a good time.
The strange man made no attempts to come any closer; instead, he sat down on the ground in front of me. "My name is Ryan," he said. "I live around here. What's your's?"
"K... Kyle," I answered, deciding that I could at least give him my first name. As soon as I said that though, I saw the expression on his face change. His smile was still there, but I could tell that he recognized my name from somewhere, and I began to get a little scared that I might have made the wrong decision.
"Kyle, how old are you?" he asked.
"Well Kyle," Ryan said. "I don't know about you, but I can't stay here. I have to get home before the sun gets any warmer, or I'll melt like a snowman." I couldn't help it. After he had said that I couldn't stop myself from giggling. It was so silly, but funny, too.
"In fact, it's getting so warm even in the shade here that I'm starting to lose some weight," he continued, standing up slowly and pulling out the sides of his baggy track pants. By this time I was laughing out loud. He was so funny.
"Any longer here, and I'd need a wheelbarrow as I wouldn't have any legs to walk on any more. Then I'd be stuck. Who'd push me back to my house if that happened?" Oh God, I couldn't take it any more. I was rolling on the ground laughing hysterically. I hadn't done that in such a long time, and it really felt good.
"Why don't you walk with me home, that way I can feel safe that I won't melt on the way back there," he suggested to me seeing that I had calmed down a bit. He started to walk out of the bushes, then stopped, turning back to look at me. "It'll be okay, I promise. I won't ever let anyone hurt you, and it looks like you could use something to eat. I'd like to help if you'll let me," he said softly as he held out his hand towards me.
Slowly, I got up from off the ground and cautiously walked towards Ryan. I was still a little uncertain about this man, but he seemed to genuinely care about me, and I was so hungry that I decided to take the chance. Standing only a foot away from Ryan's outstretched hand, I looked at it, and then up at Ryan, before cautiously placing my hand within his. Ryan's hand closed gently around mine and he held it there, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
Looking up at Ryan, I could see that same warm smile on his face that I saw earlier. Smiling back at him, I felt something in him that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was love, and I knew it was. He really did love me I realized, and I started to cry, my tears beginning to fall from me eyes and run down my cheek.
Letting go of Ryan's hand I wrapped my arms around his waist, my head pressing up against his chest as I cried and cried. He put his arms around me, and held me against him while whispering softly in my ear, telling me that everything was going to be alright. I wanted to believe him, and pressed into him even harder.
After some time, I stopped crying, still holding onto him. "Come on Sport," Ryan said, smiling and wiping away the tears that streaked down my face. "Let's go get out of the sun and get you something to eat." Again he held out his hand which I grabbed a hold of without hesitation, and smiled up at Ryan. He led us out of the bushes and out into the hot morning sun.
With the heat of the sun beating down on us, and the fact that I was starving and thirsty, I was starting to get really tired. All I wanted to do was sit down and rest for a bit.
Ryan noticed this because he slowed down then got down on one knee. I didn't know what it was he wanted until I saw him indicate to me that I should climb up onto his back. It had been so long since anyone had ever given me a piggy-back ride, that I smiled at him and eagerly climbed on, being careful at the same time not to hold onto his neck too hard, but still tight enough that I didn't feel like I was going to fall off. After he felt I was situated comfortably on his back, he stood up, and started to quickly walk along the beach, heading towards the park.
As luck would have it, the first available fountain was located on the side of the washroom facilities, located just a few yards from the beach right next to the park itself. Squatting down again, this time next to the water fountain, Ryan let me slide off of his back, and I immediately rushed to the water fountain, and began to drink down as much of the cold water as I could.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I let out a loud belch. Ryan obviously wasn't concerned with it though, as he continued to smile at me. I was so happy, and I let it show, the smile on my face getting even bigger than before. The only problem was, after drinking so much, other parts of me suddenly demanded my attention too.
"I have to pee," I announced.
"Alright, the bathrooms are right there," Ryan said, pointing to the door marked "Mens".
"I don't want to go in there alone," I said shyly, looking at the door, then back at Ryan.
With only some slight hesitation, Ryan guided me towards the door, and followed me into the bathroom. Along the wall, across from the sinks, were several urinals, beside which were three separate stalls, all of which appeared to be empty.
"I'll stand right here by the sinks until you are done," Ryan told me.
I rushed over to one if the urinals, yanked down my pants and underwear, and began to relieve my almost bursting bladder, a low groan escaping from my lips. It was only after I had almost finished that I realized that Ryan was in the bathroom with me. Quickly finishing up, I pulled back up my pants and underwear and went to the sink to wash my hands.
"Let's get you something to eat now okay?" Ryan asked me, which made me smile eagerly up at him, and I nodded my head. Once again he held out his hand to me, which I took immediately with mine, and we walked out of the bathroom together.
With a relieved bladder, and with a stomach full of water, I felt better than I had in a while. I think, also, that being with Ryan helped a bit too. He never tried to do anything to me, and only showed me that he cared. I was quickly beginning to fall in love with him.
The happiness I felt showed with every jump I made, and all the running around I did. It was too hot for me to do that for long though, and I took several gulps of water from his water bottle which he had filled back up while I was going to the bathroom. Even so, I eventually settled down, too hot to do any more running around, and walked beside Ryan, holding his hand.
We made our way out of the park and past some apartment buildings that lined the lakeside. My eyes began to grow as I saw the first of the houses. There is no argument that the houses along the lakeside are some of the most impressive houses I had ever seen, especially in a town as small as this was. Ryan began to chuckle watching as I looked at all the homes, attempting to soak in as much of what I was seeing as I could.
"Whoa!" I exclaimed. "Do people really live there?" I asked, pointing to a fairly large home.
"Yes, someone lives there," Ryan told me, and steered me towards the back gate. This didn't make sense to me, as I didn't think that we could just walk up to someone's gate like this. I didn't say anything to him about it though, at least, not until Ryan opened the gate and stepped inside the backyard, towing me right behind him.
"Um..." I mumbled. "Shouldn't we have asked permission before walking into someone's backyard like this?" I asked, becoming a little nervous.
"Why's that?" Ryan asked.
"Well, won't the people mind that we just walked onto their property?"
"Nope, he won't mind," Ryan replied, a slight grin slipping onto his face.
"Oh! Are you and he friends then?" I asked.
"You could say that," Ryan answered. The back yard was enormous, easily able to hold a football field. In the center of the backyard was a large peanut shaped pool which looked to be about twenty feet long and at least twelve feet wide. On the one side there was a slide and a diving board, and on the other side were a couple ladders for people to climb out of the pool with. The pool itself was surrounded by a chain link fence, as was required by law for an in-ground pool. Walking around the pool, I couldn't keep my eyes off of it. Ryan led me to the back of the house which had a large open porch. On the porch was a round outdoor table with a glass top, in the middle which was a large over-sized umbrella. Circling the table were four very comfortable looking chairs, all of which were made out of wood and had really thick sitting cushions on the seat of each one. The porch also had a set of stairs which led up to a second story balcony.
On the porch, Ryan got out his keys and unlocked the back door. My eyes grew wide with amazement as the door opened, revealing the interior of the house. "I have a confession to make Kyle," Ryan said. "This is my home. I live here."
The look on my face must have been priceless. "You're mean!" I said giggling over the trick Ryan had played on me.
"Guilty as charged," Ryan said smiling down at me. "Come on, I've got some food in the freezer that you can eat." Leading me into the kitchen, he had me sit in a chair at the table while he opened the freezer door and pulled out a box of frozen waffles.
He must have thought I was really hungry, which I was, because he began to open every single package and start toasting each one. His toaster was the four slice type, so it could hold four waffles at a time. While he waited for the waffles to finish in the toaster, he took a glass from the cupboard above the sink, and put it on the table in front of me. Then he went to the fridge and took out a jug of orange juice, and filled the glass with it. From another cupboard, he took out a plate, and then from a drawer beside the fridge, dug out a fork and a knife, setting everything in front of me.
By this time, the smell emanating from the toasting waffles was filling up the kitchen. I was so hungry I couldn't keep my eyes off the toaster, wishing that the waffles would hurry up and toast faster. Finally the first four waffles popped up, and Ryan took them out, placing them on the plate in front of me. He then went to the fridge and took out the block of butter and the bottle of syrup, again placing them before me.
"Dig in bud," Ryan said, rather unnecessarily in my opinion, for as soon as the syrup was on the table I attacked the waffles with reckless abandon. I used the knife to scrape a generous amount of butter, spreading it onto each of the waffles, then like I used to when I was with mom, I took the bottle of syrup and turned it upside down over the waffles until a shallow lake of syrup covered my plate and waffles. Not even bothering with the knife, I cut the waffles with my fork, and then stabbing at it before drawing it into my mouth. This whole process lasted all of a couple seconds.
By the way I was attacking the waffles that he had placed on my plate; Ryan obviously began to think that four wouldn't be enough. If that's what he was indeed thinking, he was right. It's a good thing he saw that, because I don't know if I could have waited much longer for the next batch to pop out of the toaster. Thankfully, as soon as I had finished the last bite, more waffles were ready, and Ryan placed them on my plate as well.
In all, I had managed to pack away six waffles and two glasses of orange juice before he let out a loud belch. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth, looking up at Ryan who was leaning up against the counter.
"'Scuse me!" I said apologetically.
"Not a problem bud," Ryan replied, waving off the apology with his hand. "It looks like you had your fill and needed it."
"Thank you, Sir. That's the best meal I've had in days."
"Hey, let's cut it out with the 'sir' garbage okay? My name's Ryan. Why don't you call me that instead?" Ryan said walking up beside me, and putting a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at Ryan and smiled. Then getting up off my seat, I gathered the empty dishes and took them over to the sink, pausing momentarily as if trying to figure out where to put them. "Put them in here bud," Ryan suggested as he walked over to the dishwasher and opened the door for me so I could place the dishes inside.
After closing the door, Ryan motioned for me to follow him, and together we walked into the living room. My eyes practically popped out of their sockets as I looked at the state of the art electronics that Ryan had in this room. Along the wall was a large 62-inch plasma television, beside which was a surround sound home theater system that most people would do almost anything to have.
Along the wall, beside the television, was one of the most extensive collections of DVDs I had ever seen. Virtually every popular movie could be found in Ryan's living room.
Walking over to the DVDs, I quickly found a movie in the collection that I wanted to watch, and looked at Ryan questioningly, who simply smiled and nodded his head. After handing over the DVD to Ryan, he put it into the DVD player. He then walked over to the coffee table, picked up the remote and lay down on the couch, motioning for me to join him. Without hesitation, I jumped onto the couch and lay down with him, my small body pressing up against him. Ryan placed his arm around me and turned on the television.
The movie that I had picked was one of my favorite Disney movies, Pirates of the Caribbean, starring Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom. The movie began to play and for the next hour and a half, we watched the movie together. Sometime before the end of the movie, I had fallen asleep in his arms. I felt so comfortable laying there with him. I didn't know what the future would bring, but for now, I was the most content I had been in a long time.
In response to my editor's comments regarding the last chapter of Saving An Angel, I have opted to re-write it, and the above is the result. It is my hope that you enjoy this new version of chapter 1. Keep on sending me those comments. You can reach me at: firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com