***Please Note:  This story contains scenes depicting sexual acts between men and boys.  It also contains scenes depicting incestual sex.   If you are under the age of 18, or if it is illegal for you to read such material in your state, please do not read further.  If you are offended by this type of material, again, please do not read further.

This story is completely a work of fiction.  The characters and situations in the story exist solely in the author's imagination.  If you have questions, comments or suggestions regarding this story, please email me.   Flames ignored.

For a list of my other stories, and info about me, go to my Website.

Alright, before you get into the story, I thought I'd address a few things here.  After I posted the last chapter of this story, I started getting a lot of email from people telling me that they are not happy with the way the story is going.  Some of them have even threatened to stop reading it if I don't go back to the way things were.

First of all, I warned everyone that the story was going to change.  I put one of these little notes in with a previous chapter telling everyone that this was going to happen.  I will not change things back.   This story is supposed to reflect a life not a fantasy.

Second of all, threatening to stop reading my work will get you nowhere with me.  If you are really that unhappy with what is happening in the story, then by all means, stop reading it.  But don't threaten me.   That's just childish.

Christopher's Story

Copyright 2002 Eric DravenŽ

Chapter Fourteen


I stood there staring at them for a moment.   I couldn't believe it.  I didn't want to go with Mom anywhere.  I looked at Evan, but he just put his head down.   I wished that my father would take it back.  I wished that he would just say, "Chris, don't move. You're not going with her."

He didn't, though.   He just stood there with his head down.  My mother was watching me expectantly.  I knew that if I stayed in the room much longer, she'd say something.   I didn't really want to fight with her, but I didn't want to go with her either.

"Does it matter to you that I don't want to do this?" I asked her.  I made sure to keep my voice normal.  I wanted to talk about it.  I didn't want everyone to start screaming again.

"Christopher, you don't understand," she said.  "I want you to come and live with me so that nothing happens to you."

"What could happen to me?" I asked.   "Do you really think that Dad would let anything happen to me?"

"No, Chris," she said.  "I don't think your father would let anything happen to you, but he can't be there to watch out for you all of the time."

"And you think you can do a better job?" I asked.  "Mom, you work every day outside of your home. Dad works right here at home. Which one of you sounds more likely to be there for me more than the other?"

"Christopher it’s not that simple," she said.

"It is that simple, Mom," I said.   "And on top of it, there is the fact that I don't want to live with you."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking at me as if I'd said the dirtiest word in existence.

"Mom, my friends are here," I said.   "Everything I know is here. Why do you want to make me leave it all behind?"

"You'll grow to love Chicago, Chris," she said, smiling at me.  "You'll make new friends, and you have a lot to do."

"It isn't just Chicago, Mom," I said, trying not to raise my voice.  "Its you."

"Me?" she asked.

"I don't want to live with you," I said.

"Christopher," she said.

"No," I interrupted.   "Mom, you left us. You lied to us. I know that you see it differently, but I don't. Do you think after all of that, I would just magically forgive you and run to the car and beg you to drive faster to take me away from my father?"

"You really don't understand," she said.

"I do understand, Mom," I said.   "I know that you want me to live with you, and if what had happened to Alex hadn't happened, you wouldn't have a leg to stand on in court. I may be young, but I'm not stupid."

"Chris," said my dad.

"No, Dad," I said.  "I don't want to move. I don't want anything to do with Mom."

"Well, I'm afraid you don't have any choice, Christopher," said my mother.  Her voice hardened.  "You're coming with me, and that's final. Now go pack."

I stood there looking at the floor.  I didn't want to move.  I was trying very hard not to just start crying and make a fool out of myself.  I just didn't know what to say to make her let me stay.  It didn't really seem like she cared much about how I felt about it at all.

"Does it matter to you that if you make me do this, I'll hate you for it?" I asked with my head still down.

"Christopher!" breathed my father.   "You shouldn't say things like that to your mother."

"It’s the truth, Dad," I said, looking him in the eye.  "I really will hate her if she makes me do this."

"Well, then I guess you'll just have to hate me," she spat.

"Maggie," said my father.

"I don't want to hear it," she said.   "I'll be in the car, Christopher. I expect you to be out there with at least one bag packed shortly."

She walked out of the kitchen and out the front door.  I stood there looking at my father, searching his face for any sign that he was going to stop this.  He just looked at me with so much sadness in his eyes.

"Are you really going to let her do this?" I asked him, fighting tears.

"Chris, there really isn't anything I can do," he said.

"You could fight for me," I said.   "But I guess I'm just not worth it."

I turned and walked out of the room with him calling after me.  I went up to my room and grabbed my duffel bag.  I didn't even pay any attention to what I stuffed inside the bag.   When it was full, I turned around and saw Evan standing in the door way.

"Chris, you really hurt Dad with that remark," he said.

"Evan, I don't want to go," I said.   "She doesn't care, and Dad won't do anything about it."

"He can't, Chris," said Evan.

"Yes, he can," I said.   "Get out of the way, I have to leave."

I shoved past him and walked out of the room.   The tears started before I even made it to the stairs.   I felt like shit for what I'd said to my father and my brother.  I didn't even know why I'd said those things.  What I wanted more than anything was for my father to stand up to my mother.   I didn't understand why he wouldn't do it.

He was standing at the bottom of the stairs.   When I walked near him, he grabbed me and held me tight.

"I'm so sorry, Christopher," he said.

I didn't say anything.  I just stood rigid while he held me.  I could hear my mother honking the horn of her car outside, so I pulled away from him.  I looked up into his face and saw that he was crying.   I had to look away.

"I have to go," I said with a shaky voice.

"I love you, Christopher," he said, but I just walked out the door.

My mother was watching me through her window.   She smiled at me, but I looked away.  I heard her getting out of the car, and I wanted so badly to just run away.  I knew that wouldn't help me, though.   She'd find me.  It seemed that all she wanted was to make me unhappy.

"Let me take your bag," she said.   "We'll get you all sorts of new clothes once we get to Chicago."

"I'll keep my bag," I said, jerking it back from her outstretched hand.

"Suit yourself," she said as I got inside the car.  "You're going to love Chicago. I'll take you to museums, and we'll go shopping. My apartment overlooks Lake Michigan."

I just sat in the back seat and stared out the window.  I wasn't about to go to any museums with her.   I refused to look at her or her man.  I couldn't believe that she'd brought him with her to do this.

"This is Jim, Chris," she said.   "He's going to be your step-father."

"Hi there, Chris," he said, turning in his seat to look at me.

I glanced at him, but didn't say anything.   He looked younger than my dad.  He had blonde hair and blue eyes.  There wasn't a hair out of place on his head, and he was clean shaven.   He was actually very attractive, but I wasn't going to let myself like him, either.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked me. I could hear the irritation in her voice. In spite of how bad I felt, it made me feel good to know that I was irritating her.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, putting as much ice in my voice as I could muster.  "That I'm happy to be forced to come and live with you? That I can't wait to get to the one place on Earth that I don't want to be? That I love you so much? Or do you want the truth? That I hate you? That I can't stand even talking to you? That I will always hate you for the rest of my life for making me leave my father and my brother? That you are taking me away from the only two people that really care about how I feel? What do you really want me to say, Mother?"

She didn't say a word after that.  I took a minute to catch my breath, and then I was prepared with more hateful words for her if she decided to keep on asking me questions.  I didn't know what I thought talking to her like that was going to accomplish, but I was determined to let her know how I felt about her.  I'd let her know every day for the rest of my time with her.

Somehow, I drifted off to sleep.  When I opened my eyes again, we had entered Chicago.  I had to admit that it was a beautiful city, but I knew my life would be miserable in it. I had no friends, I was stuck with my mother, and I already missed Evan.  I felt terrible for the way that I'd acted when I left. What was even worse was the way that I'd acted with Dad. I just wished that he would have done something. He could have done anything, and it would have at least proved that he was trying.  He just gave up.

"We're here," said my mother as she pulled into a parking garage. "Your sister will be over to see you later today."

When the car stopped, I opened my door.  I didn't want to wait for her, but I knew that I would have to. I didn't know where I was going. She got out of the car, looked at me, and then walked off toward a set of double glass doors.   Jim walked slightly behind her, and I took up the rear.

We entered an elevator, and I stood there, looking at the floor. My mother and Jim talked about a few things, but I could tell that my mother was looking at me.  There was no way I was going to look at her, though. I didn't want to be here, and I was going to do everything in my power to make her understand that.

When the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, my mother and Jim got out. I followed them again, and I actually did pay attention to everything around me.  The building was actually very nice.  The carpet in the hallways was dark green, and the walls were paneled with a deep cherry wood. The windows overlooked the lake, and I could see that there were many people on the street below walking to wherever.

I was so engrossed in watching the people outside that I almost bumped into Jim when he and my mother stopped at the door to the apartment. I looked up just in time, thank God. I didn’t really have anything against Jim, but I didn’t want to give him any excuse to say anything to me.

I could hear music coming from the other side of the closed door. I wondered why my mother would leave music playing while she drove down to ruin my life.  As she opened the door, the music got louder.  She didn’t say anything, and neither did Jim, so I didn’t think anything of it. I wasn’t going to say anything. I’d made up my mind that I was going to be as quiet as possible for the rest of my time with her.

The living room was really very nice.  She had a large couch and two matching recliners with a coffee table and two end tables made of oak. There was a large entertainment center with a big television, VCR, DAD player and stereo.  This was not where the music was coming from.  It was still a bit muffled, and it seemed to be coming from the back of the apartment.

My mother went to the kitchen, but I didn’t follow. I simply stood in the middle of the living room, taking in my surroundings and thinking about what it was going to be like to live there.  I couldn’t help liking the apartment. It really was very nice.  I supposed that under different circumstances, I would enjoy living in it.

“I’ll show you to your room,” said my mother, returning from the kitchen. “Just follow me, and try to block out that music.”

I figured from her statement about the music that it was coming from another apartment, but when we walked down the hall toward what I thought was my bedroom door, the music got a lot louder.   My mother knocked on the door, which I thought was strange, before opening it and walking in. I followed her and was greeted by my first surprise.

“Hey Maggie,” said one of the most attractive boys I’d ever seen. He was laying on a bed wearing only a pair of jogging shorts.   His muscular tanned body was on display, and I tried very hard not to stare.  “I didn’t hear you guys come home.”

“I would think not,” said my mother with a disgusted tone. “With that music playing so loud, you wouldn’t have heard a nuclear explosion.”

“You must be Chris,” he said, rising from the bed and ignoring my mother. “I’m Zack.”

“Zack is my sister’s oldest son,” said my mother. “He’s been staying with me since I moved here. My sister has breast cancer and is in the hospital here.”

I reached out to shake Zack’s hand, wondering why I’d never known my mother had a sister.   He was a very hot guy. He had brown hair much lighter than Evan’s, with chocolate brown eyes.  He flashed me the most winning smile that I’d ever seen. It was mixed with mischief and conspiracy. This time, my silence was not intentional.

“I’m staying here until I’m old enough to join the Navy,” he said, plopping back down on his bed.

I looked around and saw that the other bed in the room was close to the only window. I walked over to it and put my bag down on it. Turning to look at Zack again, I wanted to say hello, but my mother started talking to him again.  She was telling him to keep his music low and to be nice to me.

“We’ll go shopping for some things when Kendal gets here,” said my mother, turning to me.   I just looked at her blankly. “You’re going to need school clothes.”

“I had school clothes in Springfield,” I said, turning my head to look at the wall.

“Christopher, when are you going to realize that I brought you here for your own good?” she sighed.  “Living with your father was not what was best for you.”

“And living with you is?” I asked defiantly, turning to face her again.

“You and I are going to have to come to an understanding right now,” she said. “I don’t want to hear you talk to me that way anymore.”

“Then perhaps I shouldn’t talk to you at all,” I said, sitting down on my bed.

“Sooner or later, you’ll understand that this is for the best,” she said.

“And sooner or later, you’ll understand that I never wanted to live with you here,” I said, my voice raising with every word. “You’ll understand that you have just ruined my life for me, and I will hate you for this for the rest of it. Now, if this is going to be my room, then I would really like it if you would get out.”

“How dare you . . .”

“How dare I?” I mocked.  “How dare I what?”

“You need an attitude adjustment,” she said. I could see that she was seething with anger. I wondered just how long it would take me to make her want to send me home.

“What I need is to go back to Springfield where I was happy without you,” I said.

She stood there looking at me for a moment.  I wasn’t sure if she was going to say something or not. She just kept looking at me in a way that I’d never seen her look at me before.   I didn’t care. I wanted her to hate me as much as I hated her. Maybe then she would send me back to my father.

After a while, she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door as she went. I sat there, staring at the closed door for a few minutes before I laid back on the bed with my arms folded behind my head. I didn’t know what it was going to take, but I was determined to get back to my father.

“Dude, you like totally pissed her off,” laughed Zack. “I’ve never seen her so mad before.”

“Get used to it,” I said.  “I plan to do it as often as possible.”

“This could get way interesting,” he said, laughing still. “What happened in Springfield, anyway?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I said.

“Suit yourself, Dude,” he said.  “I just thought we’d be friends.”

“I wasn’t trying to be rude to you,” I said quickly. “I don’t even know you. Until today, I didn’t even know that I had an aunt.”

“Yeah, the last time I saw your mom, before I came to live here, I was like four I think,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?”

“Why was there such a gap in contact between them?” I asked.

“Ever met our grandparents?” he asked.

“No,” I said, thinking it over for a few minutes. I’d met my father’s parents. We went to see them often, but my mother’s parents were rarely ever mentioned.

“Well, your mom wasn’t exactly their favorite daughter after she married your dad,” he said, laughing.

“Oh great,” I said.  “Now you’re going to bash my dad, too?”

“Dude, I don’t even know the guy,” he said. “I was just saying . . .”

“What was so bad about my dad?” I asked.

“If you don’t know about your dad, then I don’t think I should be the one to tell you,” he said.

“You’re talking about his sexuality, aren’t you?” I asked.

“So you do know,” he said.

“Yes, I do,” I said.  “I don’t think any less of my dad for anything he’s ever done. He’s my dad, and that’s all there is.”

“I wouldn’t feel the same way,” he said. “If my dad was a fag, I’d never want anything to do with him.”

I knew from that one statement that Zack and I were not going to be friends. I made up my mind then not to talk to him about anything. The last thing I needed was harassment if I was going to have to be stuck here. It was already bad enough. The hits just kept on coming.

    Thankfully, he didn't say anymore.  He turned his music back on and was quiet.  My mother knocked on the door a short while later to announce that dinner was ready.  Zack got up and left the room, but I stayed in my bed.

    "Christopher, come eat," she said after a few minutes.

    "I'm not hungry," I said.

    "You have to eat," she said.

    "Go away," I said.

    When I heard the door shut, I breathed a sigh of releif.  I didn't know where all of this was coming from.  I'd never talked that way to anyone before.   I didn't even know anyone who had, but here I was saying things to my mother that I'd never dreamed of before.

    I had to admit that it was a little scary.  I saw the person that I was threatening to become, and I didn't like him very much.  Still, I didn't know what to do to stop it from happening.  I wasn't just going to accept what was happening to me.  I was going to fight it every step of the way.  She'd see that she'd made a mistake sooner or later.  Maybe then she'd send me home.

    Something was happening inside of me, though.  I didn't know what it was exactly, but on one hand I was afraid of it, and on the other hand, I liked it.   Not knowing exactly what it was didn't stop me from knowing that it was going to make me stronger somehow.  It would help me get through living with my mother until she finally decided to send me back to where I belonged.

      My first thought was to get up and unpack my bag, but I wasn't planning on staying very long.  One way or another, I would make her send me home.  There had to be something I could do to get back to where I belonged.

    I stayed on the bed and thought about it.  It took me only a few minutes to think of how I could possibly make her send me home.  I decided not to eat in front of her.   I would not talk to her.  I would do whatever it was that she thought was disrespectful.  That would have to make her send me back to my father.  She couldn't possibly stand such a child.

    "Knock knock," said my sister's voice as she openned the door.  "I hear that you are being hateful."

    "I'm really not in the mood," I said, hearing the ice that was still in my voice.

    "Hey," she said, sitting down beside me.  "I know you don't want to be here, but cut Mom some slack, kiddo. She's only trying to do what's best for you."

    "What's best for me is to be back with Dad and Evan," I said, refusing to look at her.  "Until she sends me back, then this is what she'll have. I already told her that making me live here would make me hate her. Now, making me live here will also make her hate me."

    "Christopher," sighed Kendal.  "Don't be a bratt. You know Mom loves you."

    "Loves me?" I gasped.  "How much love does it take to rip someone away from everything they know and everything they love? How much love does it take to lie to your child and husband? Huh? How much love did it take for Mom to start cheating on Dad and then decide to get a divorce?"

    "Christopher," said my mother's voice.  She walked in the door and stood in front of me.  "That is just not what happened, and you know it."

    "YOU leave me ALONE!" I shouted at her.

    "Chris," said Kendal.  "Don't scream at her."

    "Kendal, stay out of this," I said, turning my head.

    "Well, we have to go shopping," said my mother as if nothing had happened.  "Chris, get your shoes on and meet us in the living room in a few minutes."

    "Come on, Chris," said Kendal.