The following is a work of fiction. The story may contain profanity and references to gay sex. Any relation to similar events or persons, fiction or real, is completely fortuitous. 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.
Have you forgotten all I know, and all we had?
You saw me mourning my love for you
And touched my hand
I knew you loved me then
I believe in you
I'll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you, to live, to breathe
You're taking over me
Taking Over Me © by Evanescence, 2003
Control. It's extraordinary the tactics people employ to obtain it. Some rely on deception while others engage in outright trickery. Then there are those who resort to extortion. Why do we fight so hard for control? Because we know to lose it is to put our fate in the hands of others. And what could be more dangerous?
© by Marc Cherry, 2005
A feeling of unconditional rage built promptly within my soul. Staring down at the screen, reading his message, what is he thinking? I cannot see him yet. I haven't had enough time to heal. The healing has only just begun and now it's officially ruined. I haven't the slightest clue as to what stuff he even has here. So much has changed for me in the past several days. I'm living without a boyfriend that shared my bed for three years. Three years of the nineteen I've been alive, and were inarguably the best of my life. Trevor has ruined me. It may seem that claim is overly dramatic and far from the truth, but no.
My early childhood days were filled with loneliness and desolation. Mom was addicted to drugs. I never knew what kind of drugs, but rest assured she was. The two of us lived in a rinky-dink apartment in the slums. At night, gunshots would ring out, which was a common thing. Prostitutes on every corner. For a child of five years old it wasn't the place most would live to tell about. The following year Keegan was born. I really don't know how he survived. The little welfare money we received was used for things other than food much less clothes that were suitable for the winter weather that dipped down into the twenties on the coldest nights. Our dad was in and out a lot. The only times we saw him were when he was leaving each time. I mean, he was around during the day, but not more than a couple of hours at a time. The things I heard weren't meant for young ears. Between moans of carnal pleasure, gun shots and words that would make Ozzy Osbourne quiver, I was quite the mature child. And taking care of my baby brother helped.
One day mom took us to this weird building. I don't remember much of what happened, but it wasn't long before me and Keegan never saw her again. Looking back on it now I guess there was probably some money involved. The proper term for where we were was foster care. Let me tell you, the horror stories that are spread about the atrocious conditions of foster homes are only partially true. The first one we were at was decent enough. No kids really gave us any particular trouble. The second one we were thrown into was the worst. The kids there were really wicked, having sex with each other, doing drugs. I protected Keegan with all my might and succeeded. I refused to let him become a victim of poverty. Luckily only a couple of weeks passed by before another move to a different home.
The third foster home was only slightly less appalling than the second. The other boys still had sex with each other and still partook in heavy drugs, but they weren't evil. My protection level with Keegan went way down. The "adults" there weren't in any way parental material. When something happened they just turned their heads and looked the other direction. A few months passed by in that place. And then one day . . . Keegan was taken from me. God, that day was the worst of my life, even worse than Trevor breaking up with me. I went ballistic, trying to keep the people from taking my little brother. As the car drove away with the only family I had left I dropped to my knees and prayed to God. I remember asking him for the strength to rescue Keegan. Needless to say the prayer went on deaf ears. I stopped believing in God that day. I hated everyone and everything soon after. I stayed in my room all day and all night. My grades suffered. The two other boys I had to bunk with stopped talking to me eventually, which was a good thing because I was one more question away from fucking destroying them. Minutes turned into hours. Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. I gave up hope of ever seeing little Keegan ever again.
I fell into a routine. I'd wake up, eat something for breakfast, go to school, come home, eat dinner, go to bed. That's how it was every fucking day for weeks. The third month of being there without Keegan there was an uproar in the house. Like, I was scared. One of the boys apparently did a bad drug deal, which caused his main dealer to come looking for him. Well, the guy found him. He stormed into the house and kidnapped the boy. The last I heard he was found in a ditch eighteen miles out of the city. He survived and I'm almost certain he gave up drugs. Living without Keegan was becoming less painful. I was talking to people and being more social. There was still this canyon sized gap in my heart, but I was becoming comfortable with the idea that I was alone.
Two of the boys from the home were adopted. Around that time I finally learned about the blessing of adoption. I had something new to look forward to instead of my death. Another week flew by and then something else happened. I was pulled from that foster home. It was a bittersweet ending. A few of the guys were bummed to see me leave, but nothing could be done. I quickly fell back into a depression. A place that I was finally able to settle into and then I just get uprooted. Pissed me off.
I wanted to cry the entire drive to the new home, but I held it in for when I was in a bedroom. What surprised me was that instead of going into the city the two social workers drove towards the outer edge of metropolis. We pulled onto a dirt road and it wasn't long before a Victorian-style house came into view. Lush trees surrounded the property and there wasn't a dead patch of grass in sight. The woman in the front seat said I'd like this home a lot. I hardly paid her any attention at all. I was focused on the scenery. I'd never been out of the city before so it was an entirely new experience. They stopped the car just in front of the mansion-looking house. A few younger boys were playing in the yard, not giving us a second glance. Three adults came out and stood on the porch. Two women and one older man who, compared to the women, reminded me of a grandpa. I was escorted up to them. They explained how things worked and what I was expected to do. It was a strict joint, but the three caretakers seemed genuinely nice. The two workers that brought me got back into their car and drove off never to be seen again. One of the women grabbed my one bag and showed me to a room. On our way upstairs, I heard the unmistakable sound of boys' laughter. But it wasn't the chorus of giggles that intrigued me. It was one laugh in particular. We walked past the room where the noise was coming from. I gave a quick peek into the room and just about fucking blacked out. Three boys sat Indian-style on the floor playing with a deck of cards. I was looking at Keegan. It was my baby brother. Just to be sure it really was him I said his name softly. He glanced up, still distracted by the game. Right when our eyes locked I knew it was him for sure. He jumped up and ran into my arms. The woman asked what was going on, but neither of us could talk.
The despair of when he was taken from me came rushing out in tear form. I was unable to comprehend we were finally reunited. I remember I kept squeezing him and squeezing him just to make sure I wasn't being joked with. The kid wouldn't let me go, either. I had to carry him to my room when the woman told me she needed to take me to the bedroom. Once there, we continued our hug. He was crying so hard I thought he was going to explode.
That was one of the best days of my life. Having my little brother living with me again was a dream come true, a prayer that was previously left unanswered. I believed in God again. I realized that all prayers are answered at some point, however much altered they become. The following days were great. Staying in the new house was a blessing. The three adults were kind enough. I was among the oldest kids in the house and Keegan and I continued where we left off. Everything was going great. At the time I didn't know I was gay. But that didn't stop me from having a little bit of fun with the older kids. We'd trade blow jobs and whack each other off. I never joined in with their anal play simply because the thought at the time disgusted me. That's when I kind of questioned my sexuality. But it scared the hell out of me because what else could possibly be wrong with me? I kept that part of my stay deeply hidden from Keegan. He needed to be protected from that kind of stuff.
Once in a while a single person or family would come to the foster home. The senior kids called this "shopping." I understood immediately why they called it that. The visitors would watch us interact with each other, and if they took an interest in one of us that kid would get alone time with the people to see if there was a connection. A couple of the boys made connections and were adopted. Not overnight, mind you. I began dreaming of what it would be like to have a family, a mom and a dad, that actually cared about me and Keegan enough to at least make sure there was edible food in the house.
Cue in Tyler and Jared. The day they came to observe was a warm day, perfect for going swimming in the above-ground pool the foster parents set up. I was taking a breather on the porch and was introduced to them. Tyler seemed nice enough, but Jared appeared to be almost scared, very nervous to say the least. They met a few of the other boys hanging around. For some reason they chose me to share some time with. While we were getting to know each other I casually mentioned I wouldn't go anywhere without my brother. They were taken aback and talked amongst themselves for a few minutes. I doubt they were expecting to adopt two boys. When they resumed talking with me they suggested I bring my brother in the room so we could all get to know each other. Months later they were taking both of us home. Keegan grew attached to them so fast it made me question their intentions. I know that sounds stupid, but it just felt like they were trying to "buy" us. The first few months living with them I was a hard ass. Let's not forget about my rebellion at the age of sixteen. That's something no one will forget.
Although Tyler and Jared provided me with an abundance of love I was still missing something. Trevor filled in the missing piece of the puzzle. Admitting I was gay was a difficult thing to do internally. Trevor helped me progress from a scared little boy to a confident teenager. After everything was said and done we were great together. No longer was I scared. I had amazing parents. An innocent and playful little brother. And a boyfriend that melted my heart so often it was permanently reduced to a puddle. The reason I'm having such a complex time letting go of him is because he's what's kept me whole the past three years. If he wasn't in my life, then I can't even begin to imagine what I would've instead done during those three years. Perhaps drugs would've been a constant thing? Or maybe even alcohol? Casual sex? Been a drop out? Not even attempted college?
I'm scared. With Trevor gone . . . I have nothing anymore. Yeah, Tyler, Jared, Keegan, and Torry, but they don't count. They're family. They're always going to be an anchor that keeps me mostly grounded. Trevor is the chain that binds the ship and the anchor together. And now that the chain is gone I don't know what to do. We go to the same school. I don't want to see him every day. Tyler thinks he's already switched out . . . Doh! I can totally ask Claire! She's in our oceanography class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'll only be able to find out about my other classes by going to them, though. I hope, hope, hope he dropped. If not, then I will. I don't give a fuck. I cannot see him every single day for the rest of the semester. Moving on would be out of the question.
"You okay?" Torry asked.
I had forgotten I was even standing in the living room. Keegan was looking up at me with questioning eyes. Tyler and Jared were mindlessly chattering in the dining room. Surrounded by love, yet I feel nothing.
"No!" I snapped. "Nothing's okay!" Torry flinched in his seat, frowning. I stormed off into my room, slamming the door shut signifying I wanted no interruptions.
I crashed on my bed and wept into the pillow. Trevor was everything to me. I don't know how I'll survive this . . .
Later in the evening, Keegan woke me from trying to crawl under the covers.
"What're you doing?"
"Sleeping with you," he whispered.
"No, Keegan. Sleep in your own bed." I groaned in frustration. I focused on the neon clock across the room. "It's two in the morning!"
"Torry and I just finished watching the movies. He's on the couch and I didn't want to sleep alone tonight."
"So sleep with him." I countered.
"Come on, Travers. Please?"
"Fine! Just . . . leave me alone then."
I tried falling back asleep, but it was a useless attempt. With Keegan next to me all I can think about is Trevor and the countless number of nights I've fallen asleep in his arms. Some of the best night's sleep was had in his powerful arms. I'm going to have to somehow get used to sleeping alone.
"You can, you know, hold me if you want."
Rolling my eyes, I replied, "Just shut up and go to sleep." I stared at the back of his head. I didn't mean to snap at him. Fucking Trevor is ruining everything. To apologize, I draped an arm across his side and pulled him in close. Sleep came soon after.
Trevor should be here any second now. Tyler and the boys are cleaning the basement so I'm hoping they won't even hear the doorbell. The last thing I need is a tremendously awkward moment. I'm going to prove to Trevor that I don't need him to be happy, even though really I do, at least in some ways. The trick is to not cry when he shows up. That's the kind of ex I don't want to be.
"You know I beat you fair and square! You're taking over my scrubbing duty no matter what." Keegan sourly whined, coming from the basement with Torry. I heard the two of them go into the kitchen.
"The only reason you won is because you cheated! Throwing the broom at me, which made me trip, doesn't count, douche bag." Torry shot back. "I'm not taking over shit."
"Boys! Now damn it both of you knock it off!" Tyler stormed into the kitchen and started to put them in check.
Of course while this was happening the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" I yelled. I waited a few seconds before opening the door.
Trevor had his hands in his pockets, but when he saw me he pulled them out and gave a meek smile. "Hey,"
"Hi," I mumbled. "You're stuff's in my room. Come in," Immediately as he walked past me I smelt that organic lime body wash and so many memories came with it, like the time we stayed up all night watching YouTube videos . . . and having sex, but mostly watching videos. Or the time he surprised me and instead of driving to school he drove to this air museum about an hour away. So many memories with that scent.
"Who is it, Travers?" Tyler called from the kitchen.
"Trevor!?" Keegan shouted. "What the fuck is he doing here!?" I heard his chair being kicked away, but Tyler must've stopped him.
"We'll be . . . down in the basement." Tyler said awkwardly.
As they traveled down the stairs I heard Keegan say, "But I want to hear what they're talking about!"
Trevor just kind of smirked at me. I followed him into my room where he began his collection of his belongings. All four of them to be exact. His iPod charger, a pair of aviators, a school book, and a beanie were all safely cradled in his hands. There was a very uncomfortable silence in the room. I couldn't bear to look at him, but I knew he was staring at me. I could feel the penetrating gaze.
"So . . . how've you been?"
"I've been just peachy." What else was I supposed to say? I didn't even know what to say. Was I supposed to tell him how much my heart yearns for his touch?
"We may be over, but I still know when you're lying." he smugly pointed out.
Oh how that's true. I could never lie to him. It was a futile attempt every single time. "Can you answer something for me?" I just have to know why he did it. Until I know for sure I won't be able to move on. I just have to know. He hardly nodded, probably knowing what was coming. "Why did you break up with me?"
"Things just weren't working for me, but I don't really want to talk about this right now."
"Well, too bad! Tell me why you ended us."
"Travers, ugh," he groaned. "It's hard to explain. I just fell out of love with you. I'm sorry, but that's how it is."
"How do you just fall out of love with me? We were together for three years! You don't just wake up one morning and decide it's over."
"That's basically what happened. You don't have to believe it if you don't want to."
"You're damn right I don't believe it." I caught my breath so I wouldn't start to cry. I'm sure he could tell it was close to that. Trevor knows me so fucking well. "How can you just abandon all that we had? All that we've been through?"
"What, you think this was easy for me? I felt like the biggest asshole in the world." he argued back. "I hated the way I ended things, but I didn't know any other way. I've been trying to ignore the lack of feelings for a couple of weeks. Finally I just had to accept it. Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep?"
"If it was so difficult for you, then why was it so easy for you to just leave me that day?" I really want to hear his answer to that.
"Because you were freaking out and I didn't want to freak out with you."
"So you just leave!?"
"Look, nothing was easy for me. I handle things differently than you, I guess."
"No kidding," I looked away from him. Anymore staring into those eyes and I'll succumb to the ever growing pressure to cry. "Have you switched classes? Or are you staying in them to torture me some more?"
Trevor stepped forward, reaching his hand onto my shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'm not switching out. We don't have to be this way. I want to be friends, Travers. We know each other too well not to be."
I scoffed, still refusing to make eye contact. The feel of his hand practically set my shoulder ablaze. The intense passion I once . . . still . . . have for him is burning like a thousand suns with nothing to extinguish the agony. "For the interest of myself I don't think a friendship would be wise."
"I'll give you some more time." he sighed dejectedly. "See you in class." I closed my eyes as I felt his lips press against my forehead. Trevor walked out of my bedroom. Just as he was about to step out the front door, he turned back around. "By the way," he began. I spun around to face him. "I know you think there's someone else." I bit my lip and crossed my arms against my chest, looking away from him. "But I don't think there will be anyone quite like you ever again, Travers." With that being said, he shut the door. I went over and watched him drive away for the final time. A few moments later, my cell phone chimed. A text message. Trevor? I ran back into my room and grabbed the phone.
"Claire," I murmured, annoyed.
Ready for me? :)
Trevor was just here. Sorry.
I honestly don't feel like being in contact with any living thing right now. The only thing that sounds mildly appealing is crawling into bed and never, ever waking up again. Without Trevor there's nothing for me. No one to call when I'm feeling lonely or upset. No one to hold me at night. What can be worse than that?
Details tmrw. Feel better dude
Before crawling into bed, I went into the kitchen for a juice box. Tyler and the boys came up from the basement. They could tell from the despondent look on my face I wasn't in any mood to talk. Besides, Trevor isn't here so I'm sure they figured out most of what went on. I am so upset over him. The way he spoke to me was like he had no sympathy, no regret. Fuck this shit. I don't want to be here anymore. I just want to fly away from here and never look back. Nothing is worth it anymore. School. Life. Nothing.
Tyler softly came up behind me. I couldn't stop myself.
I spun around, latching onto him tightly. There's something about being hugged by him that just soothes me. Today was a little different. The sobbing turned violent causing me to gasp for breath. I was crying buckets full, almost to the point of being drowned. Tyler ran his fingers through my hair to try to calm me down. The only thing that'd work is Trevor and since that isn't going to happen . . . Pfft.
"Want to talk about it?" Tyler tried. I couldn't speak. I could only shake my head no. He walked me into the bedroom and laid me down. "I have to make your brothers some lunch. I'll be right back in."
I don't want to think about Trevor anymore. That part of my life is tragically over. But how can I just move past a three year relationship? He was everything to me. We did everything together. Healing seems to be taking so much longer than I had hoped. There's nothing I actually can do but be patient, which is not something I've ever been able to brag about.
Tyler came back in the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. I glanced up at him, then turned my head away, ashamed. Ashamed of what I'm not sure. I suddenly feel disgusting and pathetic, more so than I've ever felt.
"So what happened?" he asked softly.
"He said he just fell out of love with me. What bullshit," I said hoarsely. I still don't believe it. There has to be something else to it. Or maybe I'm overthinking things like I normally do.
"I know it's hard to accept, but sometimes that does happen."
"But after three fucking years! Three years, Tyler!" I began crying again. I am so sick of crying.
"Three years is a long time, and that can create a gap in the relationship. You'll move past this, you know. It'll take some time, but you were doing so well. Don't let this one little visit ruin your success."
"I don't care anymore. I just want to die. There's absolutely nothing left for me." Right when the words came out I knew I made a mistake. Tyler's defensive parent mode was immediately triggered.
"Now, wait just a minute. You have everything to live for! I don't ever want to hear you say that again, Travers."
"Just go away, Tyler. I want to be left alone." I rolled away from him and shut my eyes. He obviously had more to say, but he gave up nonetheless, shutting the door on his way out.
In the kitchen, I could hear him talking to Jared. Most of the conversation was too low for me to hear, but the words suicide and worried were very precise. I shouldn't have said what I did. Tyler is a very sensitive person, especially when it comes to his kids. I haven't tested it, but I'm almost unquestionably certain he would kill someone for us. Well, I guess he did once, but the circumstances were far different. He is that damn passionate about us. I've always wanted a dad like that. Jared's great, too, don't get me wrong. But out of the two of them he's the more levelheaded. So in a way Tyler is like the mom in our family. He cooks, cleans, runs errands, shops. Jared goes to work and does the yard on the weekends, drinks a beer or two in his recliner after work, watches sports-mostly football. I love them so much. That's why I could never off myself. I'm not strong enough to do it anyways. So for now I guess I'll just suffer with the pain of heartache. Besides, who knows what's right around the corner?
Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I had a great weekend. My best friend returned from the Air Force for a quick visit. She'll be back for good in a month so I'll finally have a life again, haha. Special thanks to Nifty for being very accommodating towards me. I really appreciate that.
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