The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities are entirely fortuitous. The story may contain profanity and references to gay sex. If such content offends you please leave now. The author retains all rights to the story. Do not copy or use without written authority from the author. Write Bobby at firstname.lastname@example.org with your comments.
Fly Me Away 12
"Brandon, w-will you hold me? I f-feel miserable." I sadly spoke. My impending surgery has me completely depressed. I keep thinking what if the surgery paralyzes me. Brandon will surely want someone else then. Putting up with a mental retard is one thing, but a mental retard that is also paralyzed is something entirely different. Maybe God will have mercy on me for once. Maybe only below my waist will become paralyzed instead of my entire body.
He laid next to me, grabbing me and pulling me into his chest. I felt my heart skip a beat. The warmth from his body was like a soothing massage taking my fears and stresses away. Every time I'm next to this amazing guy, I feel like I'm invincible. Nothing can ruin me when he's lying next to me.
"I wish you wouldn't stress about the surgery so much. I know it's scary, babe, but you will not come out of it paralyzed." Brandon was so confident about the chances that I won't be injured at all. I on the other hand am not so enlightened. "And even if-I mean a small if-something goes wrong, my feelings for you won't change."
"Y-you say that nnnow," I coldly replied. "When I'm c-c-completely paralyzed you'll b-be running for your lllife." Suddenly, I sat up and stared down at him with hate. This unthinkable rage built inside of me out of nowhere. "Here, let me make it easier for you! I want to break up! Don't bother coming back here ever again, okay?"
The pain I expected to see on Brandon's face wasn't there at all. Hell, he was smiling! He had a huge smile on his face! Was he happy that I dumped him? That's probably it. He's probably ecstatic that I did the breaking up so he wouldn't have to.
"Do you realize what just happened?"
"Yeah, I d-dumped you. Why are you ssso thrilled?"
Brandon got up from the bed and stood in front of me. "You said three sentences without stuttering even one time."
I looked at him with amazement. The last time I went a sentence without stuttering was years ago when the stuttering first started to happen. But this minor event isn't something to be over enthusiastic about, like how Brandon is acting. I already stuttered again anyways.
"It d-doesn't matter,"
"You know, you've been stuttering less lately, and your self-confidence has shot through the roof." He wrapped his arms around me securely. "And since you're scared, I'll let the break up go."
I rested my head against his chest. "Sorry,"
"Don't be," Brandon chuckled.
"I'm j-just so terrified that you're going t-to leave me."
Brandon sighed in defeat. "Don't you understand my feelings for you, Danny? No matter what happens I'm going to be here for you. I'm going to be with you. Please don't even think about me leaving you because it just won't happen."
"But you d-don't know..."
"Danny, stop," Brandon ordered me. "Say 'Brandon isn't going to leave me'." He rubbed my back in order to persuade me to say the line. He didn't even need to do that.
"Brandon isn't g-going to leave me,"
His body shook from a small laugh. "Now don't you feel better?"
I thought about it, searching my heart for any pain or fright. But there wasn't anything there but warmth. "Yeah, I d-do," Brandon was right. I do feel a lot better.
The next morning started out pretty bad. I hit my head walking into the bathroom-I was too tired to open my eyes all the way. Mom cooked me an omelet for breakfast, which I burned my tongue on while eating. When I safely made it to school, I ended up tripping over my own feet in a hallway. I landed on my hands, scuffing them up nicely. Luck was kind of on my side, though, because there was literally no one in that hallway.
My surgery is just days away now. The doctor has called a couple of times to see how I was doing and if I'd changed my mind yet. Nothing, however, can change my mind about getting the surgery done. If it works out-even though right now it seems unlikely-my migraines should go away. That to me is worth the risk.
Unfortunately, luck was definitely not completely on my side. I ran into someone who hated me. He definitely didn't seem too happy to see me, at least not in a sentimental way.
"Hey, retard boy," James said mockingly. There were a couple other guys with him and two girls. "Why don't you watch where you're walking?"
I took a step back from him. "I'm sssssorry," I nervously said. Fear was rushing in taking the place of my frustration over my bad luck.
"I'd love to accept your apology, but you seem to have gotten my shoes dirty. Maybe if you got down on your knees," James put his hands on my shoulders and forced me down to the ground, "and cleaned them, then maybe I could forgive you."
One of the girls was nice enough to step in. "That's enough, James,"
"He dirtied my shoes. He is going to clean them if he's truly sorry." He turned his attention back to me. "So start cleaning, retard boy."
"James, it wasn't his fault. Stop being a jerk!" the other girl spoke up.
"Clean my fucking shoes!" he shouted down to me. I realized that if I didn't wipe the shoes clean, he'd probably hurt me in some form. So in self-defense I cleaned his stupid shoes, wiping the small amount of dirt from them.
I sighed in defeat. "There,"
"Uh uh," he laughed. "Use your shirt. Even a retard like you should know how to clean the right way."
I wiped the 'invisible' dirt off with the bottom of my shirt. Hopefully Brandon will get here soon and relieve me of this humiliation. Suddenly, James stood me up and stared angrily into my eyes. At that point, I was completely terrified of what he was going to do to me. It was just the few of us in a deserted hallway with no one else around. I was utterly helpless.
"I h-have to go," I quietly said.
"Nah, I'm not done with you yet." James pushed me, causing me to slam into a wall. My head recoiled against it and a sharp pain ripped through my skull. I gasped out in pain, falling to the ground.
What I saw from a distance was enough to light my fuse. But when I began walking closer to whatever was happening in the hallway and saw who James was harassing, the fuse ran out. I flung my backpack off and bolted towards the action. Just before I could reach him, James pushed Danny hard enough to cause him to hit his head against the wall behind him. Something inside of me snapped. I spun James around and hit him square in the face as hard as I could. But I didn't stop there, not even when I saw the blood come gushing out of his nose. I started pounding on him relentlessly. The anger consumed me. I wanted him to pay.
"You fucking son of a bitch!" I shouted, not slowing his punishment. I picked him up to his feet, grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him into a huge glass case that held some of the schools' trophies. The glass shattered around us piercing our skin with shards of broken glass. James screamed out in pain, and that's exactly what I wanted to hear.
"Brandon!" I heard a woman say loudly. But it didn't stop me from grabbing James' throat and squeezing with all my might. "Brandon, you have to stop." Mrs. Dern tried to pry my hands off of James, but what good would that have done? Two security guards then pulled me away from a bloody mess formerly known as James.
I don't remember much of what happened after that. I do remember quite a few security guards literally dragging me into the office, but everything else is just a blur. The rage inside of me kept me blind. The only other thing that I do remember is seeing Danny being walked into the health office. A few minutes after that, I was escorted into the health office to get the shards of glass removed from my skin.
Danny had tears rolling down his face, but he remained silent. He was staring down at the ground mindlessly. I reached out to comfort him, but the security guard behind me stopped my gesture. I almost lashed out and struck the guard, but then I realized who exactly I'd be hitting. Instead of sitting me near Danny, the guards placed me in a separate room where I couldn't even see him. Once I'd calmed down enough to think rationally, the realization of my actions came to mind. The punishment is sure to be expulsion. I'd be lucky to get off with just that, though.
A nurse carefully pulled out small pieces of glass along my arms and hands. I wasn't feeling any physical pain, but the torture of not knowing how Danny was doing was pain enough. The door to the room opened and in stepped two police officers. I knew they were here for me. Expulsion sounds pretty good right about now.
"Brandon Cuddy?" an officer asked. I meekly nodded. "You are under arrest."
The police were walking Brandon out of the room in handcuffs. He looked over his shoulder, tears clouding his eyes, mouthing 'sorry'.
"Wwwait," I said, jumping up from the cot. The two officers didn't stop walking, though. "Wait, please!" I ran in front of them and grasped onto Brandon.
"Danny, stop," Brandon weakly spoke. "Go sit back down. I'll be okay. I promise." He sounded so miserably sad. I've never seen him like this before. Watching him being walked away was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
A few painful minutes later, the office door flung open and in rushed mom. Her face displayed animalistic rage-eyes squinted, brows furrowed, tightly pursed lips. I stood up from the cot, but had to sit back down because I felt lightheaded. Mom grabbed my backpack for me and said she'd pull the car up closer to the office. She left, then came back what seemed like an hour later, although I know it was only a couple of minutes. The lighting was killing my head, though. I guess I wasn't subtle with the pain; mom took her coat off and put it over me. After making sure I was okay in the car, she went back in the office I'm sure to do some yelling. She came back out looking more ticked off than before.
Dad was supposed to be working today, but he was home when we got home. Mom must've called him before she left to pick me up. I'm sure the two of them are going to be doing something serious about what happened today. I mean, James really hurt me, but Brandon should be what they're talking about. He's not their son, but it's Brandon. It's my Brandon. And right now my Brandon is in jail, or wherever the cops hold people.
Mom instructed me to go to my room and rest. My head was feeling a little worse than before. A faint hint of a migraine lingered in my aching skull so I downed a couple of Tylenol to try to ease the pain.
I wonder how Brandon is doing.
The holding cell was cold, grey. A pungent smell was coming from one of the corners, probably the disgusting, clearly unwashed benches. It was very dim in the cell, just adding to the misery factor. I'll be honest. I'm terrified right now. I have no parents to rely on to bail me out, nor any other family for that matter. So simply put I'm screwed right now.
People kept walking by the cell without even glancing in. Fuck! I'm only a teen! How could they not even act a little concerned? I'm sitting here by myself terrified of what's gonna happen to me. Technically, they don't even have to call my dad. I'm eighteen; an adult. Jail is where I'll be sent I'm sure. For how long, though, I wonder? James was sent to the hospital because of me. That has to be at least a few months behind bars at minimum.
"All right, kid, you're free to go." a cop suddenly said. I didn't even notice him come up to the cell. "You just have some paperwork at the front desk."
I slowly stood up, bewildered as to why I was being let off the hook for now. Then I saw a man approaching from down the hall. I knew that man. He looked semi-serious, a faint smile curving his lips upwards.
"Mr. Turner? What're you doing here?" I walked out of my cell and up to him.
"I posted your bail. But let's talk on the way home." He put a hand on my shoulder and led me to the front desk where I received all my paperwork.
The drive home started out pretty quiet other than Mr. Turner's occasional casual question. The closer we got to home, though, the more serious his questions became. He started to dig in deep like asking about my parents. It was the right time to tell him so I didn't hold anything back. He seemed to sympathize for me, but not in a pity way. I do hope you realize there is a difference between sympathy and pity. Not a lot of people know that. Anyways, he also wanted to know exactly what happened at school. That was a simple one to answer. I saw James push Danny and I just snapped.
Carmen was outside with Danny and Reno playing on the front lawn. When Danny saw us pull up, he immediately ran up to my side and opened my door. I jumped out, hugging him tightly.
"How's your head? Are you okay?" I asked frantically.
He sighed contently, "I'm fine,"
"How a-are you doing?"
"I've been better," I smiled weakly. "I really need to take a shower. Can I borrow some of your clothes?"
"Duh," The smile on his face was contagious. Carmen and Alan went inside and talked privately in the living room while Danny and I went up to his room.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you any faster, Danny."
He closed his door and turned around with a confused look on his face. "Y-you came r-right at the perfect time."
"No, I didn't! James hurt you, Danny. I failed you today! I swear it will not happen again." An image of Danny being pushed against the wall today flickered in my mind. It made me angry, but I controlled myself. "Please, just give me some clothes. The holding cell they had me in was gross."
Danny moved in to kiss me, but I stepped out of his path. "W-what's wrong?" he asked, worry quickly growing on his face.
"The holding cell was seriously gross. I would feel a whole lot better kissing you if I was nice and clean first." I smiled at him just to ease his concern. "But seriously your head is doing okay?"
"Y-yeah," he said, going through his closet for some clothes. "I took s-some Tylenol and put an i-i-ice pack on it."
I sighed in relief. "Well, good,"
Danny gave me a pair of pants and a shirt plus a clean towel. The hot water felt so relaxing after such a stressful day. It was so embarrassing being perp walked off campus. Not a student averted their gaze from me. Then being walked into the station and placed in a holding cell was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. The burning water running over my body kept my mind off of the humiliation and terror, though. I don't know if it was the stress or the calming water, but I suddenly became very drowsy.
Carmen was talking to Danny when I walked out of the bathroom. She told us that she and Alan wanted to talk to me. Danny gave me a pouty look, but there wasn't anything I could do. They probably wanted to tell me that I'm going to have to pay them back immediately or that I'm too much of a pain to keep around anymore. Carmen served me a mug of hot chocolate. On a cold day like this the rich, chocolaty flavor warmed me immediately.
"Brandon, we plan on hiring you a lawyer." Mr. Turner started.
Before he could say anything more, I quickly spoke my mind. "You can't do that! I am not your responsibility!"
"Well you are now," he stated. "We are using that same lawyer to countersue James for what he's done to Danny. Please don't think of this as charity. Think of it as a token of our appreciation."
"You guys appreciate me?" I was stunned by Mr. Turner's revelation that the two of them appreciate me. I can't think of a thing that I've done for them directly.
Carmen spoke up. "You have given Danny a new light. He has become so much more outgoing and outspoken than he ever used to be. Whenever you two aren't together, all he can talk about is you." She paused for a moment, but still couldn't continue.
"The point is, Brandon, Danny has become an entirely new person thanks to you. I think I speak for Carmen when I say that he's even stuttering less. There is no other explanation than you." Alan said, taking his wife's hand in his. "We don't know how else to thank you other than by being here for you." I cocked my head slightly, puzzled by his words. "I told Carmen about your parents. We want you to know that from this point on you can count on us to be here for you."
I didn't really know what to say. Thanks wouldn't even be appropriate-too small a word. Alan has been more fatherly to me in the past hour or so than my dad has been since... Well, since before my mom left. Even then he wasn't that great, but he was sure as hell better then than he is now. A lawyer is expensive, though, and I don't think I'll be able to repay them any time soon. Now I'll definitely have to get a job. Of course, it's not like school will get in the way of a job. My expulsion will surely give me plenty of free time. But now that I think about it, I can't even get a job without a high school diploma. Adult school here I come.
"Thank you so much, but this is just too much. A lawyer is expensive and it would be a long time before I could even begin to repay you." My argument seemed logical to me. But from the look on Carmen's face, I could tell she wasn't thinking the same thing.
"You just don't get it, do you?" she asked rhetorically. "You do not have to pay us back for this. We are doing this for both you and Danny. Brandon, you are part of this family now. And this family sticks together."
Yeah, the tears clouded my vision, but I held it together. There was no way in hell that I would be crying in front of them. "I don't know what to say,"
"There's nothing you have to say. Just keep doing what you're doing." Alan said in a fatherly-like tone.
"Thank you both so much," I sighed emotionlessly. "Someday I will repay you, though. That's a promise."
"Well, take your time," Alan replied with a chuckle. "We also need to talk about your schooling. There're three adult schools here. If you're going to be living here, then you must receive your GED."
I blinked in shock. "Living here?"
"Alan and I talked a lot about this earlier and we've decided to invite you to live here. I don't like the fact that you're constantly alone at your house with no adult guidance whatsoever."
"Alan, Carmen, this is all so much, and I..." I choked back a sob, but it was getting harder and harder to not completely break down.
I stood up from my seat and started to walk away. They could not see my weak side. But Alan chased after me, and once catching me, he spun me around into his arms. The two of us shared a hug. A hug that I've been craving for years. Alan hugged me like I was his son. And I was eating it up. The sobs came hard and fast, but he didn't even loosen his grip.
"Th-thank you sssso much!" I cried into his shoulder.
"I'm proud of who you are, Brandon. You are one great kid."
Only two chapters left! I hope you all enjoyed chapter twelve. Feel free to write me at my e-mail address that's given atop every chapter. Also feel free to join my group: Shades of Wisteria. Oh, and don't forget about my instant messaging screen names! And don't worry about bugging me because you WON'T.
By the way, I started a blog up, which you can read without being a member or anything! Here's the link: Bobby's Blog.
I published Beautiful Lie! You can purchase it by following this link: Bobby's Storefront. It's exciting to have another one of my stories created into a book. If you do decide to purchase it, then I really hope you enjoy it. Speaking of purchasing, you must purchase the book in order to read the entire story. But (and I mean a big but!) if you cannot purchase the book for any reason and would like to read the entire story, then please contact me. Exceptions can and will be made for you. And please don't feel embarrassed if you can't buy it. I have had many hard times in my eighteen-and-a-half-year-old life. Thanks ahead of time!