Date: Sat, 1 Nov 2014 03:21:51 -0500 From: DJ Adams Subject: One Hell of a Night One Hell of a Day: Prologue. This story is totally fictitious and is only a figment of my imagination. The storyline and the characters are all fictitious and are not representative of any person or persons. The story deals with a young teen's realization that he's gay and his attempt at suicide- A very real and unfortunately common situation. The goal is partly to acknowledge and to vindicate these circumstances as something that DOES happen but it's also to cast a positive light on life and show that suicide is not the answer. This story is about Dylan Davenport's failed suicide and subsequent life afterwards. It includes gay themes, strong language and everything else that you would expect to go on in the life of a teenager. If any of these topics are offensive to you, please choose another story from the archive. ********** Nifty is a free service. Help keep it that way. Donate voluntarily and do your share to keep Nifty around before you no choice but to do so or see the archive be lost. ********** One Hell of a Day: The Prologue. "JENNY!!" I yelled as loudly as I could. She came flying down the hallway and stopped in her tracks as she entered the room. There he was, laying on the bed; He would've looked asleep if it weren't for the white foam coming out of his mouth. It happened quickly. In a flash, I had him cradled in my arms like a baby, carrying him out to the car. He was in the front passenger seat, reclined all the way back with Jenny, his sister, behind me doing CPR and breathing for him as I drove and talked to 911. I told them to meet me on 5th Ave. near some little grocery. By the time I got there, FDNY was just arriving to rendezvous with us. I carried him to them and they placed him onto the stretcher. Jenny and I got back into my car and tailgated the ambulance to Bellevue. ********** I paced around the waiting area. Jenny sat in the chair sobbing, trying to get ahold of their parents. How could he even think of doing something like this? "Family of Dylan Davenport?" A black gentleman in a white lab coat asked to those of us seated the waiting room. Jenny and I jumped up. "Follow me, please?" He spoke with a lazy but eloquent drawl. We did as we were instructed and followed him to his office. ********** "Hello. I'm Dr. Edourad Francois Duval. I am the psychologist assigned to Dylan. What, may I ask, is your relation to the young man?" "I'm his sister and this is my best friend, Riley" Jenny introduced us to the Doctor. "I see. A fine thing you did, boy, for Dylan. A might bit stupid, a might bit brave but surely a fine thing." The good Doctor must be referencing to my rather outlandish driving with Dylan on the way here. "How is he, Doc?" Jenny asked. "Oh, he will be fine. Physically, that is. His psychologic well-being is another story. Of course, I'm sure you already knew that-" "Did he say why?" I asked. The Doctor shifted in his seat. "I think that is something you'll have to take up with the toe-head himself." "The what?" Jenny asked. "Toe-head. It means his hair is so blond that it's almost white." I answered for Dr. Duval. "When can we see him?" I asked, turning my attention back to the Creole physician. "Now, if you'd like." He responded. ********** We got to the room. Dylan was in the bed, staring at his hands which lay upon his lap. He was in a pair of white hospital pajamas, under white blankets, in a white bed, in a white room. He looked like the little angel he truly was. With his fair complexion and white-blond hair, the only thing that stood out in the entire room was his eyes; Beautiful green eyes, which were amplified by the oddly-pronounced blood vessels around them, surely from crying. I started shaking. I'm fine in the heat of the moment when there is an emergency- It's afterwards that I get scared. Jenny ran over to him and hugged him tightly. He didn't even seem to know we were there until she did. He weakly hugged her back but his gaze still was fixated towards his lap. She cried for a little while. After about 15 minutes, she got up and I walked over. "Hey." I said quietly. "Hey." He almost whispered back. "You okay?" I asked. "... Yeah." He responded. "Good." I said. I reached my open hand back. "Dylan?" He turned his head up to look at me and, as soon as he did, I slapped him as hard I could across his face- It was so loud that I was sure it was heard down the hallway. Jenny stood there and looked at me with her mouth agape. Dylan looked back up at me with a look of amazement and question on his face. "If you EVER do that again... And I'LL fucking kill you..." I choked out as the tears starting streaming down my face. I was shaking like I don't know what. I sat down on the bed next to him and hugged him as tight as I could, gently grabbing a handful of his hair with one hand, rubbing his back with the other, and burying my face into his neck. We sat there and cried together for maybe a minute before Jenny came over and joined in with us. ********** "Why, Dylan?" His mother asked through her tears, trying to understand. Dylan with still curled up in his little ball of a fetal position. He stared at the end of his hospital bed. "C'mon, son. We're not angry with you and we never have been; Nothing could ever make us angry enough with you that we don't want you around." Dylan's father tried to coax it out of him. Dylan's eyes squeezed shut and the tears rolled. He sniffled with a hic and put his forehead to his knees. Poor baby. He is just so sweet. What could ever be so wrong? "I'm gay." There was a pause. "Is that all?" Dylan's mother asked. Dylan picked up his head and shot her a look. His mother wasn't being mean or belittling him, she honestly wanted to know if that was what was so bad as to cause her son to swallow a bottle of pills. "Honey, you know I don't mean it badly. I'm just asking. Your father and I have known ever since you were little." "Wh- What?" Dylan asked incredulously. He stopped crying and sat up. "Sure, we knew." His father said nonchalantly. "And it doesn't bother us either. We were just waiting for you to be comfortable enough to come out and say it." Dylan finally smiled a little for the first time in days. I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand. He looked at me inquisitively. "Dylan, it's no big deal. Honest. I'm gay, too." I said to him. He looked at me like I was crazy. Jenny just giggled behind me. "It's true. He's queerer than a three-dollar bill." She quipped with a smirk. Dylan laughed at that. "It's not common knowledge." I added. "But I am and I'm okay with it, and my parents are okay with it, and my best friend is okay with it, and the world didn't end." I smiled at him and he smiled back. It was starting to click for him: Everybody in the room accepted him for who he is. He reached over and hugged me graciously. Another tear rolled down his perfect little face. "Thank you."