Date: Sun, 8 Dec 2013 00:43:19 +0100 (CET)
From: Craig Smith <craig.smith@writeme.com>
Subject: Philmore High - Chapter 5 - Grounded as Dirt

Chapter 5

There were many ways of eloquently saying I was fucked.

I will spare you the embarrassment of a naked teenage boy being caught, not
just naked, not just masturbating his own meat in his own hand, not just
making out, but busted with his naked friend between his legs and the
expression, "Ah- ah-o'my-gawd. o'my-gawd." burned into the air in spunk. I
will also skip over the details of my green eyed curly haired friend
dressing, grabbing his skate board and escaping the scene of the crime as
fast as humanly possible.

Words flew like a wizards' duel. Some words were meant to hurt, some as
defense and some cut like knives through my paper soul.

Mom was blown away that I, well, to put it bluntly, fucked a boy. A BOY!
She did not catch me impregnating a sweet dimpled doe eyed beauty queen,
she caught me fucking a Greek god looking boy. A penis and testicle laden
boy seemed to be the focus, not the fucking part. And somehow she thought
it was "wrong."

News to me.

She never had a problem with same-sex sex before. "Well, it's different
when it's your son." Her words, not mine.

We argued into the night.

At the end of things, I was but a teenager still bound by the laws of "The
Roof."  Oh-my-painful-fucking-god, she pulled it out and threw it on the
table. "As long as you are living under my roof..."

Defeated, embarassed and knotted inside, I went to bed and laid there till
the alarm went off. I was grounded as dirt. I couldn't get more grounded if
I tried. The bus ride sucked balls just like my life. My cell phone was
gone, my life was gone and I rode the bus to school pretending to be a
normal kid.

An empty bus stop greeted me, no Brock, no Eli and none of my guys
Period. It was just an empty bus stop. I didn't think my mood could get
more crushing.

I walked past the preacher boy. I really didn't want to hear that asshole
this morning. I hoped that Lipsmear was gone, sick or dead.  "REPENT YE
HEATHENS!" Lipstain yelled right into my ear as I passed. "FAGS GO TO
HELL!"

If I had thought about it, Mr. Tangent somehow got him banned from
screaming on school property, which was something of a victory. I didn't
though. This morning my misery was fiercely raw. The dreary sky oppressed
me. The shouting fucktard oppressed me. My epic grounding.

My self respect? Gone. Mom caught me fucking a boy. Fuck.

In the safety of the school walls, I spotted Brock down the hall and called
out. Brock turned and walked away. He didn't call back. I was pretty sure
he heard me. His blue locks shook as he took step after step, getting
smaller in the hallway till he turned the corner disappearing
completely. Fuck again.

Benji materialized in front of me. "Dude, you look like shit." he said.
"Thanks." I said my face felt grim, "Mom caught me with," I hesitated but
only for a moment; my life was pretty much over anyway. "Taz last night."

"Wait. What? You mean like caught you doing...?"

"Yah. We did it, the big one."

"Fucking wow. I always pushed him to do it with me but he never
would. Maybe he'll let me try now" Benji said. Fucking perfect. My life has
fucking ended and Benji was all fucking about his sex life.

"Fuck-tard, my Mom grounded me. No cell phone, no internet, no COD, no
visitors, total solitary and Brock--" I choked back a sob, "I just saw him
and I think he heard me, but--"

"Sorry man. Here, use my cel phone." and in a flash his phone was in my
hand.

	Benji > Hey it's Dan. My cel phone is gone, Mom took it. I'm
              grounded.
	Brock> I don't wanna talk to u rite now.
	Benji> Wut? It's Dan on Benjis fone.
	Brock> I know. I don't wanna talk to u rite now
	Benji> Why?

And then nothing back from Brock, at all.

"Shit." My sob made it hard to speak and the tears in my eyes began to make
everything blurry. "He's not talking to me and how the fuck am I supposed
to know why if he don't talk to tell me?" I shook as I handed the phone
back to Benji. "Benji," I said, "If ever I need friends--" and with that
out I lost it. I cried in a full melt down mode, right in the hall way,
publicly, and I really didn't give a fuck.

Benji's strong arms wrapped around me. I hugged him back. And I cried.  I
ended up in the nurses office and after a while, I just ran out of
tears. Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself. Maybe. What about Brock
though? He was my best bud for so long. We hung out together and shared
most of our young lives with each other. Was it because Brock found out
about me and Taz?

That thought set me back. If he found out, then did he think that we were a
couple? Did he think I cheated on him? I did? We actually never said we
were exclusive. Somehow I knew it didn't matter. We'd been friends for so
long, I think I really might have hurt him. He loved me. That elusive
emotion called love?

I don't think I loved Brock. Did I?

My head swam in circles and then in the background of real life in the
office of Philmore High, Mr. Tangent said Eli's name. He said it, right?

I couldn't tell but I stopped sniffling and tuned in.

"I guess he's going to be in there a long time. It doesn't look good."
Mr. Tangent said.

"Should we alert the students? Get them to sign a card or something?" The
secretary asked

"We can't even do that. Privacy laws and all that, you know that, Phillis."

"Well, privacy laws be damned, I'm going to visit him after work today.
Where are they keeping him?"

"He's in Intensive Care at St. Augustines." Mr. Tangent said.

Shit shit shit. Who were they talking about? Was it Eli or not? I had a
powerful imagination sometimes, so I couldn't be sure. I came out of the
nurses' station and outright asked, "Who? Who's in St. Augustines?"

Mr. Tangent exchanged looks with the secretary. I looked bad and I could
tell from the way they looked that it was just going to get worse.
Mr. Tangent cleared his throat and a worried look crept across his face,
"Eli," he said.

It felt like an invisible kick to my stomach and I just sort of flopped on
the floor. Someone, I'm not sure who, got me back into the nurses office
and I sat and felt nothing but empty.

Taz and Benji materialized looking down at me. They made an odd picture,
Benji's big brown eyes plopped on his beautiful brown face with sensual
lips and Tazmans perfect green eyes and long curly hair staring down at me.

"Hey bro. I'm sorry, but Brock is pissed at you because of you and me." Taz
said his voice sad and sincere.

"Eli is intensive care at St. Augustines." I just blurted it out. The boys
looked at me their eyes questioning me. "I overheard a conversation and it
sounded bad. Mr. Tangent told me it was true."

Benji said, "We gotta go there. Now. Taz, text Brock. He's probably got my
phone number blocked. Benji and Taz stood over me each absorbed into their
phones as they worked the invisble network of secret magical machines that
made everything work.

"K. Here's the deal. Jay Robertson is gonna ditch class and give us a ride
there. We gotta meet him out front in exactly eight minutes. Text Brock."
Benji announced.

I sat and sniffled.

Eight minutes, seemed like forever as an old rusted brown SUV showed up at
the front. We all piled in silently, including Brock.

"I'm so sorry Brock." I whispered to him.

"We can talk about this later." Brock spoke quietly, his words made of
cardboard, "Eli is first. We go find out what the fuck is going on with
him. Where's Alfie? Anyone get a hold of him?

"Couldn't. He fell off the grid too." Taz said, "Just get VM if I call and
the texts are non-returned. I told him to call me or Benj ASAP and that it
was important."

The rest of the ride was laden with worry and silence.

Nothing was good and everything promised to get worse.


**********


The hospital was like every other hospital, large and foreboding. Eli was
laying in there, somewhere, through the maze of hallways, somewhere. We
talked to Information and were given directions to the ICU. Of course we
were stopped at the desk.

"Our friend is in there and he's in bad shape and needs our support," Brock
said.

"Unless you are family," the nurse recited, "You are not allowed in."

"I'm his brother. These are his friends." My raspy voice sounded
sincere. He looked at me. I am sure I was a mess with red rimmed eyes
punctuated with dark circles underneath.

"You," He pointed to me, "Go in. Unit 5A. The rest of you stay here."  The
inside of the ICU was a maze of scary looking beds and a very peculiar
medical smell. I found the unit labelled 5A. It was a dim room filled with
lights, machines with wires and tubes. In the center of it all lay a lump
under some bedding. I rechecked the number.  A hospital person, nurse or
doctor in a white coat went in, checked something and then left again.

I took a breath and stepped into the room. The beeping was even and there
was a machine that sounded like Darth Vader, breathing evenly. His face was
blackened, way worse than the first time I met him. He had a bandage around
his head and a tube coming out his mouth. I was afraid if I touched him it
would wreck the machine or hurt him further. I touched his hand, his
knuckles scraped and held it. It seemed so still, so fragile.

"You are family?" A voice asked. I looked up to see a man with a
stethoscope draped over his neck.

"Ummm, yah. I'm his brother." The lie came easily. "How is he? What
happened?"

"I'm Doctor Haphensburg. He's in a coma, his brain is badly bruised. If he
lives through the night his chances of recovery improve, but there is a
very real possibility of permanent brain damage. It is too early to tell.
He was found by his friend like this. The police suspect that he was beaten
with a bat. I'm sorry, but you have to go. There's a family and friends
room at the end of the hall. You can stay there as long as you'd like."

The boys' faces looked hopeful and when they glimpsed at me the hope turned
to ash. I guess my face was speaking for me. I told them what the Doctor
said.

Numbly, we trouped into the family and friends room and sat down. There
were a few other people, concern lining their faces. It was a fairly small
room furnished as a country living room with lamps and couches.  Benji's
soft deep voice and full of concern, "I just don't get it. Who would do
this? Why? Who found him?"

"Eli mostly hung with us." Brock said, "There weren't many peeps his grade
he liked. Where's Alfie?" The question was a good one.  "I've texted
everyone I know. No one's seen him." Taz said.

"Did anyone call his Mom or the land line?" I asked

"I ain't got it." Brock replied. Neither did Taz or Benji.

"I'm sorry boys. Did you say Eli?" An older lady asked.

"Yeah."

"He's my son. I'm so glad you boys came to see him." She said.

"Huh?"

"I'm Mary Gonzalas. Eli is my son. This is my husband, Eli's step father,
Martin. She paused and half-smiled, as if in welcome, before continuing.
"You boys, well, the blue haired one is Brock, and the blond triangle over
your face, you must be Dan and the tall dark one is Benji which leaves the
curly haired boy, Tazman. And of course Alfie is upstairs. Eli never stops
talking about you boys, he has had a bad patch the last bit and now with a
new group of friends, we'd hoped that he could stay out of trouble for a
little while. He's got such a mouth and opinion sometimes. It just get's
him into more trouble than not. You boys, especially Alfie, well, you've
been so good for him."  Mary's eyes started to tear up.

Brock, the blue haired wonder boy was the first to speak up as usual,
"Thank you Mrs. Gonzales. It's nice to meet you both. We were surprised to
find him here. We have no idea what happened."

"Well," Martin said, "Eli has had trouble adjusting, to our being married
and also to the change in schools. He was always in fights and
trouble. Then you boys came along and he stopped with the trouble, or so we
thought. I guess Alfie was going to meet him at the park and was a bit
late. He came into the park and there were four boys beating him. They left
as soon as Alfie showed up and then he called the police and ambulance."


"Alife saved his life. I believe it in my soul." Mary said.

"The police don't know who did this, they talked to Alfie before he broke
up - or was it broke down? Anyway, they know there were four of them
against Eli and that's all the information Alfie will give out."

"Do you know where Alfie is? We can't find him. You said he's upstairs?" I
asked.

"Yes. He saved Eli and then talked to the police and I guess his emotions
are quite --" Mary searched for the right word, "Fragile. He's in the Psyc
Ward, the third floor. I guess he's in quite a state."

"Perfect. First Eli, now Alfie." Tazman said what we were all thinking.

"I wonder if we can visit him." Brock asked.

"Oh you boys are so loving and kind. I am so glad that Eli has friends like
you in his life." Mary said.

"Let's go find out." I said as my mind whirled. What the fuck was going on?
I never did get the whole story about why Eli was beaten the night I found
him. I was pretty sure he was leaving out some important details. Now that
he lay in a bed in a coma with a nest of snakes hooked to machine keeping
him alive, I think I might have made a huge mistake.  The front desk of the
Psyc ward looked as normal as any other hospital front desk. The hospital
peeps looked at us just as skeptically and when Alfie's name came up, so
did their eyebrows. We were told to wait while they consult the doctor to
see if Alfie is allowed visitors or not. A few moments later we were
escorted to Alfie's room.

He sat on the bed, head bent down. The four of us trooped into his room. He
didn't look up. I wasn't sure what to say. We all stood like morons until
Brock, god-almighty-that-boy-is-something-else, said, "Sup Dawg." This was
just Alfie and we were just his buds, hospital or no hospital. With the
disaster we needed each other more than ever and whatever the crazy reason,
why it all clicked with the simplest of sayings I had no idea. Whatever. I
sat beside Alfie and put my arm around him. It reminded me the first time
we did that up for Art Alive night. Taz sat on the other side of Alfie and
then pretty soon we were all squished onto the bed simply trying to hug
Alfie. Brock had climbed up on everyone's lap his knees and elbows making
everyone squirm.

Alfie's eyes were red.

"Thanks for coming to see me. I've never had four guys come to visit in a
month, let alone in one time." He sniffled.

"We're here for you for as long as you want. You want us to sneak some
booze or porno in for you?" Brock offered with a devious smile on his lips.

The story was the same, though. Alfie was late picking up Eli and he chased
off the guys. I was hoping there was something more, but then I hoped for a
lot of things.

We camped out in Alfie's room and sent a person down to sit with Eli till
we got booted out or got tired. The day turned to evening and then
night. The stale pale lights of the hospital looked the same both in the
day and at night. It was impossible to tell the time without looking at a
clock. They even put the AM and PM on the clocks so that there was no guess
work. Visiting hours were announced as over and we were ushered to the
exit.

The boys' fingers and phones had been busy on the network of peeps and
nothing much developed except that Brock's Dad was going to pick us up and
drive us all home. I didn't want to go home. Ever. I didn't say it right
then and there though.

We went through the story with Doug, Brocks Dad's. He was pretty in tune
with what was going on and drove Benji and Taz home. The three of us left
in the vehicle, I didn't see many options, well, I pretty much saw none.

"Mr. McSweeny," my voice cracked from being tired with no sleep the night
before, the stress of the day and all the crying I had done, "Would it be
okay if I crash at your house. Mom an' me had a big fight and I really
can't deal with her now what with Eli being all --"

"I don't know Dan. I'll get Liz to call her and talk. I know it's been a
tough day for you and if I ask, she'll just say no. So let's say that if
she says you gotta go home, then I'll drive you home." His voice was even,
calm and at least he never said, 'no.' right out.

My numb mind and body and soul began to shut down. Brock woke me up when we
got to their house. I half stumbled and half walked up to the house. I
remember Elizabeth talking on the phone as I laid down on the upstairs
couch and closed my eyes, only for a moment.

The next morning, I woke up in my clothes on the same couch. Someone had
thrown a blanket over me. The smell of coffee wafted through the
upstairs. I got up, my body ached and I felt like I was coated with grease
from head to foot. I needed a shower.

I drug myself to the coffee pot and poured. The coffee was hot and black
before I added a bunch of sugar and cream.

I looked outside. The weather was dreary and cold. Life was not going very
good. Not very good at all.

After a hot shower and wrapped in a towel I wandered out to the dark
underground livingroom. Basements can be dark cold lonely places sometimes,
but I wanted it like this. It felt the same way I did. I sat on the couch
sipping my almost cold coffee, my hair turning from wet and clingy to damp
and annoying as it hung over my face.

Brock came in, a shadowy figure in the dark and sat down beside me. His
rumpus room, or whatever it was called was pretty much a second home to
me. Brock has been, well he's always been my friend. We've never had fights
where we didn't talk or where we even argued for very long.

"Hey Brock." I said.

"Hey" he replied. Pretty lame on the outside, but that one response, the
one word meant he was talking to me again. I had a chance to make things
right. Well, they could never be as right as they were before, but at least
it was better than a wall of silence.

"I wanted to say sorry." I said

"For what?" his voice was angry

"I kinda let, well, see, Taz and I, okay wait. No. See, Taz and me well,
you know, I know you know, well, Taz and me fucked, and I think that maybe,
well, I shouldn't have done it." I stammered sounding like a blathering
idiot. Brock never said anything. He just sat there. Shit.  "Okay. Let me
start again." I started again, "See, I should have saved that moment for a
guy I love, for my best bud in the whole world, but I wasn't sure -- well,
I'm not sure of anything anymore." The silence that hung in the air was not
comforting. I threw it out there, my question of his feelings, my question
of my feelings, my question of life, sex and love.

"Yah." Brock said, "I know you never knew cuz I never told you. But yah. I
love you. I never told you that really, I think I'm pretty much as gay as
they come and I want to be with you. I never said any of that because I
was--I am--" He paused with a very deep breath and a leap of courage,

"I am afraid that you don't feel the same way about me."

I had nothing to say, I didn't want to hurt Brock. Ever. My mind spun. I
never thought life could get this complicated. I sat there thinking and
finally decided the truth, bare and raw, even if it was hurtful was the
best thing.

"Brock, my friend. I am not sure how I feel. Sometimes I just want to fuck
and enjoy it, then other days I want to find the right girl, share
something special and have four or five kids, a dog and live happily ever
after. Then I see a boy and get all horny. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm
just making this up as I go along. You are a true friend, a good friend and
I never want to lose that. That's about all I'm sure about."


Brock's eyes started to leak and he grabbed me and hugged me, his hot
breath on my bare back and his wet face on my shoulder.

He hugged me for a while. I didn't say anything and he didn't either. We
just sat there and then I let Brock go.

"You got any small clothes I can borrow? Small for you, that would fit
me. Mine feel way too greasy."

Brock sniffled and said, "Sure. Give me a minute."

I dressed and we went upstairs. The bad news continued to pour in. Doug
talked with Mom and she wanted me back. She was pissed, but since she
couldn't ground me further, I didn't care.

Doug drove me home and entered the prison without a word and just went to
my room and laid in bed. Morning turned to night turned to day and one day
after another I forced my numb body through motions. The motion of going to
school to pretend to learn things. I sat in class, I slept, I ate a little
and I went "home." I cried myself to sleep at night, I woke up sad and
cried in the morning. I cried on the bus. I started thinking about a world
without Dan. I felt worthless. I looked at the mirror seldom and barely
spoke to anyone.

I felt like total utter crap. Days turned to weeks and then one dreary day,
I got off the gray bus taking me to the gray school and found Brock
standing at the bus stop waiting for me. His hair was turning black at his
roots and the blue was becoming nothing more than a fringe.

"Hey." I said.

"Good news bad news, Danny ol boy. Good news, Eli is awake and is
talking. Bad news, he can't remember anything about the night he was beat
up. Good news, it seems like he's gonna make a full recovery. Bad news,
you're still grounded, Good news, he'll be awake and up and around when you
are un-grounded."

"Thanks. I'm glad he's gonna be okay. I dunno when I'll be ungrounded
tho. I think that it might be forever. I'm caring less and less anyway." I
said and then I started to cry, again, right there at the bus stop.  Brock
hugged me and I just let it all sort of go. It'd been tough living in
solitary confinement and I was worn out or worn down. Whatever.  Brock, I
sat down on the frozen sidewalk as if it were summer, my ass getting all
dirty and not caring. "Life isn't worth living any more. I miss you
Brock. We've barely spoken in the last, whatever long."

"Don't say that Dan. Life is worth living. Just this thing with you and me,
well, I been feeling pretty awful too. I think it's not fair for me to
expect anything from you. I think it was not okay for me to expect you to
let me be your first love making experience without even telling you. I've
been selfish."

"So? How does that make life worth living?"

"I've missed you so much. I can barely not stand seeing you as my heart is
just killing me. You've also been ditching classes, not eating, you look
thin pale and like you are going to fall over and die any second. I'm
worried about you."

"Still don't see how life is worth living."

"Well, I need you as a friend. I want you for more, but I understand, not
really at all. I just accept and respect your decision."

"Thanks Brock. That's cool. Mom still has me dirt grounded. I am
considering talking to the sperm donor and seeing if he would let me move
in with him."

"Dude."

"I know."

"He used to beat you and he drank all the time. He could kill you if he
went into one of his drunken rages. You said so yourself. Those are your
words."

"Yah. So?"

"Don't be so set on dying. I need you here."

We got up off the curb and he held me again. This time the warmth of his
body made me shake. Was it his warmth? His male smell was always subtle and
ever so light.

"Thanks Brock. I missed you so much." I said and then we walked to school
together.

Christmas was around the corner and with Brock back on my side, the air
felt a little less bleak. I would endure Mom's ridiculous grounding until
the day I turned legal and I would be gone from her. Forever.  That
afternoon, after school, I went to my room and closed the door. That was
the way my life went. There was nothing to do but lay in bed and think. I
had read a few books, none of them very good, but it passed the time. I was
imprisoned in life to the will of a woman who I thought loved me, only to
find out she would condemn my actions on made up moral grounds and well,
really, my mind went to shit. I hated everything all over again. Then I
remembered Brock's hug. I remembered his blue hair phase and the wonderful
frolic we had at Alfie's house so very long ago. His eyes sparkled blue,
filled with laughter and the tenderness of his touch.

I grew hard. I hadn't spanked it in weeks. Things had been so bad a spark
of a good thing brought a little fire back to my soul. I had given up on
everything. Now I had some fire, I had a hard on. I wanted some
retribution. I wanted to get even with Mom for the bullshit she's putting
me through. I wanted to get even with the assholes that fucked up Eli.

As I lay there, thoughts swirling through my head of me doing fantastic
brave things where I would be the hero and everything turned to gold and
life became proper, I just gave up and put my hand around my member and
jerked it like I'd done a hundred times before. I spunked all over my
stomach and just lay there in my own sweat and semen listening to
neighborhood having life around me. My fantasies of heroism evaporated into
the void and I lay there with my shorts around my ankles.  I heard the door
open and close downstairs. The mother was home. I contemplated leaving
myself the way I was, but I didn't want her to notice anything had
changed. I cleaned myself off and dressed again.  Supper was a repeat of
the last few weeks, when she was home. The mother would cook food, ask me
to do the dishes after. She made us sit at the table, together as she would
prattle on about her day. She would attempt to pry into my life with
questions about school, if I'd met any new girls that were interesting and
try to cajole me into dating, attempted and failed miserably at subtlety.

I endured using one word answers when necessary. Suppers weren't any fun
anymore.

After supper I went to the bathroom and took off my clothes for a shower. I
took inventory.

My abs shrunk. My ribs were showing. My bush was grown well out of control.
My hair was down to my shoulders. I looked at my body thinking it was time,
well past time to take me back, if only a little bit of me.  I shaved my
balls and trimmed my top pubes. I think I might be a bit longer than the
last time I did the micro self analysis, though it could only be my
imagination. I took the scissors to my head. The Mother had offered to pay
for an expensive haircut, or what she thought was expensive about a week
ago. I declined with a simple 'No.' I hoped I don't stay monosylabic after
my weeks in solitary. I missed being happy with lots to say.

I hacked my Blond hair. I cut it all and threw it in the garbage. It took
me several minutes to hack off the long stuff and trim as close to the
scalp with the scissors to get the close stuff. Then I took the razor and
shaved my hair right down to the maggot white skin.

I shaved a little space in my right eye brow. Time to give the world a
little taste of Danitude.

Then I reassessed. I still was too hairy. I went back downstairs and shaved
myself completely bald. Go Eli go, I thought. Now the upstairs match the
downstairs. Why was not a question I asked.

Mom came upstairs after I went back to the my room and laid down. Clothes
were strewn about on the floor on my dresser.  I just didn't give a fuck
anymore.

"We've been invited to a Christmas part... What on earth did you do to your
hair?!"

"Have a good time. I'm grounded. Remember?" I shot back.

"Your beautiful hair Daniel!"

"What? I'm grounded again, more, longer? Go ahead. It's my hair. I can do
what I want."

"You can stow the attitude. We are going to this Christmas party and you
are going to start acting--"

"Normal? Straight?"

"Civil. It's the MacMillans."

"I'm grounded. Have a good time," I said.

"I know what you said. I'm ungrounding you for the Christmas party.
MacMillans are, well, very influential. You should remember. I drove you
out to their mansion. Alfred, or Alfie, I guess you called him."  "It's on
Friday, so you'd best find something decent to wear. Oh my. This room is a
mess. I expect it cleaned."

"I expect a million dollars" I mumbled under my breath

"What?"

"Oh. I expect it'll be done. Don't worry."

"Think of this Christmas party as a chance to be with your friends for a
little while and a chance to show you can be mature."

She left. I rubbed my bald head. For the first time in weeks I had
something to look forward to. Something good. I felt a little lighter.

---

Copyright 2013 Craig Smith

Nifty requires funds to fire the furnace of the servers

Please send me comments to craigsm1th@outlook.com

Notes from the author: Not much sex in this one, okay, none. But the tides
are turning for Danny. Thanks to everyone for their comments and support.
Yeah, my spelling in previous chapters was attrocious. I hope this dark
chapter was spelt better. As Homer Simpson once sung, "I am so smart,
S-M-R-T"

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No part of this publication may be reproduced,distributed,or transmitted in
any form or any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system without
the express prior written permission of the author.

Characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended
by the author.

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