Hey, here is the thing that nobdy reads. If your not 18 dont read this. This story is made up, not real. It came out of my Crazy messed up head. And to start off i want to apologize if this bring back any repressed memories.
The Tide Began to Rise
School! The word brings two main things to my mind, Dread and excitement. Dread because I know that I don’t fit into any of the clichés that are in my school. Excitement because……………….because, well, the people that I can look at and day dream about. Excitement because I get to see my friends every day and most of all school gets me out of the house for at least for 8 hours of the day.
It’s August and school starts in just a few days. I can’t wait! I’m starting my senior year. I turned 18 last month. I didn’t have a party though. Me and a few friends went and saw a movie. We also went and ate dinner at Quaker steak and Lube in Council Bluffs. I live in a small town about 20 miles south of there.
Today is August 11th. James’s, one of my friends, birthday is tomorrow. He is having a huge party at his house. I need to buy him a present, but I don’t have any money. I will ask my mom when she gets home.
“Tyler, get you ass down here and clean the kitchen.”
“Ok dad, once second.” Oh shit….I shouldn’t have said that.
I heard him coming up stairs and down the hall to my room. I had my door closed. He kicked it open.
“What the hell did you say? …………………….When I tell you to do something, you drop everything else and do it. Do you understand me?” When he finished talking he waited 2 seconds, before walking over to me and back handing me across the face. “Answer my question boy.”
“Yes.” He back handed me again.
“Yes sir.” I said while crying
“Stop you crying. Grow up and be a man like Tristan. Now get your pansy ass down stairs and clean the fucking kitchen.”
He left the room. I sat crying on the floor. I stayed for 5 minutes, then got up and slowly went down stairs. My dad and half brother Tristan were sitting on the couch watching TV. I went into the kitchen and started cleaning. I had been cleaning for 2 hours when my mom got home.
“Hey everyone, I brought KFC for dinner.”
“About time you got home, I’m starving………….Tyler grab us some plates now.”
I grabbed 5 plates and took them to them to the table. I gave one to everyone , then sat down. My dad got up, walked over to me and grabbed my arm. He squeezed hard. I could feel the bruise starting to form.
“What in the sam hell are you doing?”
“Going to eat dinner.”
He yanked me out of the chair, and threw me back into the kitchen. “You’re not eating until that kitchen is clean.”
I looked to my mom. She turned her head, just like she did every time dad hurt me. I looked to my older brother Peter. He caught my gaze. He mouthed “sorry” then lowered his head and stared at his plate. I looked at Tristan. He was laughing. I think that he lives to torture me.
I went back to cleaning. I did the dishes by hand. We had a dishwasher, but my dad forbids me to use it. He would never tell me why I couldn’t use it. When I did ask, he would beat me for asking to do something the simple way. So I learned to not ask question. Next I scrubbed the counters. That alone took me 30 minutes. Not because we have a lot of counter space, but because of the dried old, rotting food that was caked on there.
There was more cleaning then that. After another hour and a half, I was done. They left the food sitting on the table. Well what was left of the food. There was almost nothing left. There was a half eaten leg, one bite of a biscuit and a bite of the mashed potatoes. I sat down at the table and began to cry.
My mom came in. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Is dad asleep?”
“He made me clean, while you all ate. Then this is all that’s left……..Why didn’t you say something? Now I have to go to bed without anything to eat. He’s always doing this to me. He doesn’t do it to Tristan or Peter. Why is he so mean to me?” I put my face in my hands and cried. My mom didn’t move, she just stayed standing there.
After 10 minutes, I lifted my head and found she was gone. I went upstairs. As I passed Peters room, I looked inside. He wasn’t in there. I went in. Peter smokes pot. I know where he hides it. I went into the closet and grabbed the old shoe box that was buried under a stack of clothes. I opened it up, took enough out to make 4 joints and hid the box once more.
I went to my room. I sat on my bed and started thinking. Thinking about what it was that I did to get treated like dirt. Did I do something wrong? As I was thinking, I came to the realization that everything started when Tristan moved in. Before he came along I never got beat. Treated badly yes but never beaten. Tristan is the bastard son of my dad’s affair. He had the affair shortly before I was conceived. That is what Peter tells me. Tristan was born a few months before I was. I had met him a few times growing up, but I didn’t know he was my half brother. I didn’t learn that until 3 years ago. That’s when his bitch of a mother died. That’s when my life got all messed up.
I sat on my bed thinking things over until midnight. At midnight I reached under my bed and grabbed 4 dog treats. Then I snuck out of the house. I walked a block to this alley. I did this every night. When I got to allies opening, I whistled.
“Patch………….”*more whistling* “come here Patch.” 2 seconds later, the sounds of paws could be heard running down the alley. Seconds after hearing the paws hit the cement, I saw the familiar Black Russell Terrier. He jumped and landed in my arms. He began licking my face.
“Ok………Ok…………. I missed you to Patch.” I walked over to a crate that was sitting next to a wall. I sat down. Patch knew that I had treats for him. Either it was because he could smell them, or because every night when I came here, I brought him some food. It’s never much but I bring what I can for him.
I pulled out the 4 joints that I rolled I was sitting in my room. I grabbed a lighter I took from my dad, I put one in my mouth, lit it up and inhaled. It felt so good.
“Patch, home is not getting any better. Dad slapped me in the face twice today, and then made me clean the kitchen before I could eat. By the time I was done, there was no food left. Do you think mom cared? ………………… No, she didn’t.” I took another drag. Patch was looking at me like he felt sorry for me.
I sat there and smoked all four blunts. I was talking to and petting Patch. He seemed to hear, understand and care about what I was saying to him. But it was time to go home. I hugged Patch and walked back home. My dad was still asleep in the recliner, like ever night. He had passed out with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other hand. I went over to him; I took the beer and the cig. I dumped the beer in the sink and the cig in the trash. When I walked back to him, I saw that his wallet was laying on the end table.
“I will probably get my ass beat 10 different shades of purple for this,” I said in my head “but I don’t care.” I grabbed the wallet and took out 400 dollars. I put the wallet back down and ran to my room. I got undressed and climbed into bed.
My alarm went off a 6:30 am. Today is August 12th, and is James’s birthday. He has been one of my friends since the 7th grade. He is kind of a spoiled kid. He gets everything that he wants. It makes it very hard to shop for him.
I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, not to check myself out., but to look at all the bruises and scars. I looked at the newest one on my arm from where dad grabbed me and threw me into the kitchen. One on my chest where a book hit, that he threw because I missed it when I cleaned the living room. There was a bruise on my stomach, where dad had punched me for talking while he was watching TV. There were scars on my chest from where dad would hold me down and burn me with his cigarettes. There were others, most fading but still tender to the touch.
I went back to my room and got dressed. I headed down stairs to find my mom sitting at the table. I walked to the table and sat down.
“………………..” Mom said nothing.
“…………………….” Still nothing.
“Mom?” I practically yelled.
“I’m sorry Tyler……about last night. I should have saved you some food.”
“Forget about it mom…. Can I borrow your car today? It’s James’s birthday.”
She seemed to think about it for a minute. Then she just got this blank look on her face.
“What…..oh yeah, sure, take the car.”
She threw me the keys. I drove to the nearest Best Buy. I had decided to buy him a new Stereo for his new car. His dad is a mechanic so that will save me money. The stereo that I picked out is the Phase linear- In- Dash CD/ DVD player with motorized face plate. I also decided to get him new speakers. I decided to do this because I knew that he hadn’t done anything to upgrade the car yet. All-in-all it cost me about 364 dollars before taxes.
The party was not until later tonight. I decided to hang out at the mall. I went to a few stores, got some food. I got some wrapping paper for the gifts. At about 6 o’clock I decided to head to James’s house.
On the way, I started to hear this rapid thud, thud, thud, thud, thud sound. I pulled over and got out of the car. I check the tires and I found that the rear passenger sides tire was flat.
“FUCK” I yelled out.
I looked in the trunk for a spare, nothing.
I pulled out my phone. I called my house. On the 5th ring I heard “hello?”
“Oh thank god you picked up Pete. I need you to come pick me up. Mom’s car got a flat and there’s not spare or anything.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m on 275 just past Elrod.”
“Ok.” He said and hung up the phone.
15 minutes later Peter was pulling in behind me. He got out of the car and walked towards me.
“Thanks Peter. I need a ride to James’s house.”
He just looked at me.
“Do you know what would have happened if Dad picked up that phone? Did you even think about that? Do you like that he hits you all the time. It seems that why by the fact that you didn’t think before you dialed that number. You should really think before you do stupid shit like this.”
“Oh yeah Pete. I love that Dad hits me. I love all of the bruise that he gives me. I love the he treats me like a piece of shit. I love getting abused. But do you know what I love the most? I love when he burns me with his cigarettes. He treats you and that pansy fucker Tristan like kings………Go fuck you self. I’ll find another way to the party.” I began to cry.
“I’m sorry Tyler. I didn’t mean that……….I’m sorry. I only meant to get you to think about what if Da………”
He was cut off by head lights rounding the corner, and the horn of a big rig blowing. I closed my eyes and prepared for the impact.
Thanks for reading. I have Join a new Yahoo group. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/coygiannioriginalgayfiction/ Tell me what u think. Email me, IM me, or you can go to JUB. http://www.justusboys.com/forum/showthread.php?t=267140 and leave your comment there.