Date: Wed, 12 Jul 2023 18:47:44 -0400 From: James Heady Subject: The Wounds Within My Heart--Chapter 4 The Wounds Within My Heart By James Disclaimer If you're not of the legal age to read this story, or if you're offended by this type of material then leave now. This story may at times contain sex and romantic moments between consenting teenaged males. It also may contain scenes of Hate Speech towards people of different races, sexual orientations, disability groups and others. If you can't handle reading about that, then leave. Please remember to donate to Nifty, as it's your donations that keep these stories and other information on the site free to the public. Finally, if you like this story and haven't done this already. Offer to make my E-mail address jamesheady1985@gmail.com a double bacon cheese burger. When you make it, use two of those Star Crunch cookies for the buns. Thanks once again to K. for editing this story, as well as this chapter. Your work on finding and fixing any issues I sometimes miss really helps the story shine. Thank you. Chapter Four Soon the dance was ending. I said goodbye to Pietro, and we held each other for what felt like forever. After I walked him back to his dorm, I returned back to mine. After showering, then brushing my teeth, I was in bed. I drifted off to sleep thinking of Pietro, and how good it felt to be in his arms most of that night! The next day flew by, and soon I was in the car with my mom and Ray. I gave them the usual run-down of things I did at the school. They listened, and after I finished speaking, there was silence while Ray drove, intermittently cursing at drivers in front of him. My mom was typing away on her phone's screen, most likely answering work E-mails. Finally, we were home, and I put my things in my room. Just then my mom knocked on my door. I told her to come in. "I just wanted to let you know that we're expected at Aunt Conny and Uncle Phil's house tomorrow evening," she said. Aunt Conny and Uncle Phil were my mom's older sister and her brother in-law. They were both as insufferable as were my mom and Ray. They were even more so, if such a thing were possible. When I would go to their house, or out to eat with them and my parents I was expected to dress properly. While I would wear a dress shirt and tie with dress pants while at school, I had to wear a full suit while out with them. I hated wearing dress pants, dress shirt and tie. That was annoying enough, but a complete suit was even worse. Usually when I was out on my own at home, and away from my mom and Ray, I'd wear jeans and a regular T-shirt. The shirt would usually be one containing the name of some sort of Metal Music group. I had a few of these, but I would wear them as a small act of rebellion more than as a tribute to any of the Metal Groups they represented. This was mainly because I wasn't too much into Metal at the time save for Night Wish and Therion, as I mentioned before. "Thanks for letting me know," I said as I went over to my closet and picked out a suit. I figured that this would keep my mom off my back, and I was right. "You're welcome, and thanks for not giving me any shit about it," she said sharply. "Good, you have a suit picked out. The last thing I need is to argue with you about those god-damn metal shirts you wear when not in school. Christ, they look ridiculous. Ray and I will be going out tonight. You have money so you can order whatever you want for dinner." "Okay, thanks," I said as she quickly stepped out of the room. I thought over what she said about my metal shirts. I only asked one time back last year if I could wear one of them to a dinner we were going to be attending. The invitation said that dressing up wasn't required. My mom told me that no son of hers was going to be attending an important dinner looking like some goth freak. Ray then added his contribution by telling me to stop my god-damn bitching unless I really wanted something to bitch about. I shut up quickly, then laid out the suit for the dinner we were going to on that particular occasion. In short, I figured that, with the dinner we would be attending at Aunt Conny and Uncle Phil's house the next day, I could deal with wearing a suit for the time we would be there. It was now after 5:00 P.M. I sat at my computer watching an episode of The X Files. I was keeping myself entertained until the food arrived. My mom and Ray left about 20 minutes ago, and once gone, I ordered my food. I got pizza and hot wings from a place close to our house. I was definitely hungry since I had a little of the crap they served at lunch that day. They served us what was attempting to pass for Fettuccine Alfredo with Chicken in it. It reminded me of something like warmed up vomit from a dog, and I ate barely half of it. It was truly disgusting, and I wasn't completely convinced that the staff in the kitchen wasn't cooking up road-kill from the street. Bottom line, I was definitely ready for real food. As I sat there waiting for the food to arrive, I found myself thinking of Pietro. I missed him, and I was glad that I got to see him that day at lunch. He had been throwing away his plate, like a couple of days before, and we exchanged an arm around the shoulders. Mr. Marshall was there again, and it was good to see him again as well. Unfortunately, the End-of-Lunch bell rang and I had to rush off quickly. I let Pietro know that I'd see him when we came back to school that Monday evening. We had a three-day weekend, and normally I would have enjoyed that. This time around though, I knew that the third day would mean one more day without Pietro. My food soon arrived, and I ate, truly enjoying every bite. The pizza was pepperoni and cheese on thin crust. That was always my favorite kind of pizza. The wings were hot wings with a really intense hotness to them that I loved! After I finished everything, I cleaned up my trash. Once that was done, I sat down to write in my journal I kept on my laptop. I had it on a thumb drive, and I kept it locked up so that no one could find it. 0000 Friday, September 1, 2023 I haven't told anyone this, and I probably won't for a long time. I think I've found my first love! I can't believe it! I think I'm in love with another boy! I never thought I'd write those words, much less even feel that way about a boy! I'm feeling a lot of things right now. The first thing is joy! My new friend's name is Pietro! He's so cute. He has blond hair, and grey eyes. He's really tall, and he has the softest hands I've ever felt on another boy. He loves giving me hugs, and when he holds me in his arms, it's like I'm in Heaven! He feels so strong, and so big! He's so cute, and I can't live without him! The next thing I'm feeling is fear! I don't believe it's wrong to be into boys if you're another boy, but I know that others in society still don't agree with it. Then there's my family. They would never understand. I know I could never tell them! That thought of them knowing does scare me! I'll have to think about this a little more. Nohea 0000 "Oh god what the fuck did I just write!" I screamed in my head. It was true, what I had written in my journal, but now that I was thinking more about it, I was getting scared! Just the thought of my mom and Ray knowing that I was having feelings for another boy was enough to send me into a panic attack! They expected me to get with some rich society girl when it came time for me to date. This would drive them into depths of rage like I would have never seen before. I was sure of it! I could feel my chest tightening up, and I did my best to keep my breathing slow. I then picked up the phone and called Greg, who as I mentioned before, was my pastor at the church. I figured he would be there, or at the cottage in back of the church. He picked up after the second ring, and I asked if I could see him. He let me know that he would be by in about 20 minutes. I let him know that my mom and Ray would be out probably until 9:00 P.M. that evening. He said OKAY, then hung up to come over. Once Greg arrived, we went to the church. We sat in the back area where there was a small cluster of trees that was shaded really nicely. I waited for a few minutes, then began talking. "I know that you've been welcoming of people who are gay and stuff like that over the years," I began. "You've treated them nice, but don't you really feel the same way that most pastors do. I mean, aren't you supposed to go with the usual corporate line about how being gay is a sin according to the Bible?" He put an arm around my shoulders and looked at me. "If I went with all of the corporate lines about what us pastors are supposed to do, then I wouldn't be the pastor I am today," he said. "You've seen me take in people who most of society would have given up on long ago, and in fact, some have. Sure, there are teachings that most church bodies push, but I don't agree with half of them. I especially don't agree that the Bible says anything about it being a sin to be of an LGBT identity. I thought you knew how I felt for the most part when you'd see me welcome those who are LGBT into our church when they'd attend dinners we would have. Not just for dinners, but for services if any of them came, which some did." "Yeah, and that was really nice of you," I said. "I just need to know that you really do support people like that, and not in that way of where some pastors say that everyone sins from one degree to another." "No, I've never believed that," he said. "It's not that I believe that God loves LGBT people, because they've sinned like everyone else in one way or another, but that he loves them because they are whatever LGBT identity they are. He made them that way, and that should be affirmed, not opposed nor destroyed." "I'm glad to hear you say that," I replied. "This seems really important to you," he said. "I guess you could say that," I said. "I mean, what if I had something like that going on with me? There are things about me that my mom and Ray don't know. And if they knew, then they definitely wouldn't be happy." I wasn't sure how to continue, and I waited for a moment. "Nohea, I've known you since you were a really little boy," Greg said. "So, I think I know you really well. When you turned four, I could tell who you would turn out to be. I accepted you back then, and I still accept and love you for who you are now. That's never going to change." He took me in his arms, and I let him hold me. I hadn't really known consciously throughout the first few years of my life that I was gay. I thought back on it as Greg held me, and then realized things that I hadn't thought much about before. I thought about how I never really had liked sports, not even a lot of typical kid games like Cops and Robbers. I also didn't like playing with usual toys like trucks and cars. I mainly liked playing with toy animals, and at a baby sitters house one time when I was six, I found a toy pony. It was white, and its main was silver with multi-colored sparkles running throughout it. I would play with it for most of the time I was there. Ray caught me with it when he came to pick me up one afternoon, and yelled at the woman running the day-care that he didn't appreciate her letting me play with toys like that as if I was some god-damn sissy. Fortunately, she still let me play with it once I was dropped off there for the day. I then thought of my sensitivity about almost everything. I was more sensitive than most boys, and though I always knew that I never thought of it as any sign that I was gay. It was making sense now though. "You won't tell my mom and Ray will you?" I asked as I rested my head on his shoulder. "No, this will be just between you and I," he said. "If you ever feel comfortable to tell your mom and Ray, I'll be there to support you." "I won't be telling them any time soon, probably not until I'm grown and out of the house," I said. "Your support really means a lot though." "I'm glad I can be here to help," he said. "It sounds like you've just recently realized this about yourself." "Yeah, you could say that," I answered. I told him about Pietro, and he smiled after I finished speaking. "That's really amazing," he said. "I think you guys sound really cute together, and I hope you guys are able to be together for a long time. I do hope that you guys can remain friends for always, but if you two can become more than that, then I definitely support y'all where that's concerned." "That really means a lot," I said as we shared another hug. We then got up, and we returned to my house. "Are you going to be alright until your mom and Ray get home?" Greg asked as he walked into the house with me. "I'll be fine," I said. We sat down on the couch, and Greg watched me for a long moment. "I really want you to know that I truly am here for you," he said. "I'm here for you with what you're going through with coming to terms with being gay, but I'm also here for you concerning your parents. I'm not blind to who they are, and how they act. I know you've seen where I would try to talk them down, and they would just ignore me and continue going at you with things in the past." "I appreciate you trying to help when you did," I said. "They just don't seem to see the world as other people do." "No, they don't," he answered. "That being said though, I don't want you suffering alone. If they continue acting as they do, please let me know. Though I don't have a mandated reporting credential like teachers and doctors do, I still want to help if I can. I don't like how they leave you alone like this, and when you're not alone here, then you're at that blind school. I especially don't like the moral outlook, or ethical code or whatever it is they think they're teaching you. You've not let it influence you, but of the kids you've told me about who have taken to it like ducks to water, I don't think it's going to end good for them." "Even if some of them have a little more intellectual maturity than other kids there?" I asked. "Some of them might think older than they are, and might understand things around them that their fellow 12 and 13-year-olds don't grasp yet," he said. "I don't care though. A kid might do really well at understanding how to operate a car in terms of the mechanics. He could explain all the steps to changing an engine, but I'm not about to let a 13-year-old do work on my car's motor. At least, I would make sure he was given assistance by an adult. We have certain ages for kids to take on certain responsibilities for a reason. This crap they teach you at the blind school sounds like they're trying to make you guys be little adults well before you're ready for that. I think all that's just so much Bullshit." "It's really good to hear you say all that," I said. "They don't seem to know, nor even care about, making sure that we learn the things we need to know as blind people without forcing us out of our childhoods." "It definitely seems that way," he answered. "Thanks for spending time with me tonight," I said as we hugged before he left. "It really helped." "You're welcome, Nohea," he said. "I love you, and I always want the best for you. Never hesitate to call me any time." "I appreciate that, thanks," I replied. "I love you too." "No problem," he responded. Once back at the school that Sunday, I went out to listen to music on the bench I usually occupied. It was the one Pietro first found me on the first time we met. I needed the time to unplug, as well as to get my head cleared. Dinner with Conny and Phil was a total bust. We arrived at their house the night before around 6:30 P.M. which gave my mom and Ray time to have a couple of drinks with them. Dinner would be at 7:00 P.M. sharp, which it was. We had the usual when at their house. There was Caviar, Toast Points, Moose Cheese and several other foods that only people as rich as my family could afford. We ate off plates with gold trimming around the outside edges, and drank from cups the outsides of which were studded with rubies and sapphires. I loved Sapphires with their deep blue color, but I didn't like any of what all of this said, nor represented. It was all spectacle, as well as one more way that the people within my family could look down on those either less rich, or even those who were of lower incomes. That, when you got right down to it, was really why my family resented me as they did. I always looked at wanting to do for others less fortunate, and they couldn't be bothered with any of that. When I hung with people at the blind school, I usually spent a lot of time with kids from what most would consider the lower end of the income spectrum. There were many kids from that end of the spectrum at the school, mainly those of different disabilities, other than or in addition to their visual disabilities. Several of them were of different races, and this last part really pissed off my mom and Ray. Though they'd never say it around outsiders, they had no problem giving their Racist points of view complete with N Word and all. It truly disgusted me, and though I tried to hide it I still think they could tell. In short, this was just one more way in which I didn't fit with my family. Getting back to last night though, the dinner was mostly spent with my mom prodding me to tell Conny and Phil about what I had been doing at the school for the week leading up to that weekend. She would go on and on about how it was such a good school, and about how much I was enjoying it there. Ray told what seemed like an endless number of Racist jokes. Black jokes were at the top of his list, then came the jokes about immigrants. Phil told an equally endless number of anti-LGBT jokes with many of them targeting gays. It was hard sitting there listening to all of them, but especially Phil. I would make sure to have either food or drink in my mouth so as not to laugh. It was all truly disgusting! Once we got back home that night, my mom and Ray went into the living room to enjoy several more drinks, and I excused myself to get to bed. I was glad to have that night at an end! I banished all those thoughts from my mind as I put in my earbuds and put on my music. I leaned back, and prepared to enjoy some quiet time for a bit. 0000 David Swanson put the phone back down on the desk, then stood up from where he had been sitting a moment ago. He was in his study answering a couple of business calls, and he worked to get them over with quickly. This was Sunday after all, and the last thing he wanted to do was spend that day or any moment of the weekend dealing with work. As far as he was concerned, this was his time with his son. Now that business was taken care of, he went to look for his son named Triston. David had adopted Triston three years ago when the boy was eight years old. He did work for different businesses and homes as an electrician. When he was at a foster home three years ago when first meeting Triston, he had been working on fixing an outlet which was sparking off and on. The boy was having a couple of melt-downs, and they would start up every time Davids power tools would sound,. The foster parents would yell at the boy to relax, and when the boy rocked, tried to cover his ears or hand-flap they would give him a quick slap on the shoulder in an effort to get him to stop. David saw these two occurrences and didn't get a chance to say anything the first time since the foster father grabbed the boy and took him into his room. After the second time the boy had another melt-down, David shut off his drill and went into the hall and up to the doorway of the boy's room. "God damn it! you little retard!" the foster father yelled slapping the boy across the face. "You know you're not allowed to stim like that, now fucking stop it! Your therapist gave you ways to not act like that, and you can't be doing that shit once you get in the real world! You know you need to be calm when loud noises are going on!" The boy got up, and the man pushed him down on the bed hard. David rushed in at that moment, then jerked the man around so they were eye-to-eye. "You like treating kids with disabilities like shit do you!" David said yanking the man even closer to him. "If you put your fucking hands on that boy one more god-damn time I'll take you outside and you won't be putting your hands on anyone ever again! I don't fucking care if he's your son, foster son or a homeless kid! You keep your fucking hands off of him! Also, I don't give a fuck what ABA Bullshit that quack therapist taught you or him! He is who he is, not who you fucking want him to be!" David let go of the man, and after smoothing out his shirt again, the man glared at him. "Fine, you try dealing with an Autistic little Retard like this one for a whole fucking day!" he growled. "Maybe then you wouldn't be so fucking sanctimonious! How did you know all that about ABA anyway?" "I went to college with a couple of guys who were autistic, and they were both assimilated into the "Real World" through ABA," David said. "It's Pseudo-Science, Ableist Bullshit and straight up abuse that forces Neuro-Atypical people to be something or someone they're not! It also has its origins in the therapies used to try to make gay people be straight!" "Too bad you can't cure either one of those groups of people," the man said. "Fuck it, you want the little scrambled-brain Retard, you can fucking have him." "If you're really serious," David went on. "Just give me a few days to get things in order, and I'll take him in." For the remainder of David's visit, he worked on the last parts of the project which fortunately didn't involve power tools. The boy who David learned was named Triston sat watching him the whole time. After he finished working, he sat down beside the boy. After seeing how well he could read and write, David talked to him about coming to live with him if he wanted to. Triston nodded enthusiastically and then he surprised David by hugging him tightly. During the course of the next two weeks, David went through the process of obtaining custody of Triston. He had a good enough income, and really well-kept home, and with everything in order he was able to go quickly through the adoption process. It did take about a month, but in the meantime, Triston was placed in another foster home, but with this second one they treated him right. They also handled his Autism in ways that didn't worsen any melt-downs. More importantly though, they did things which helped him with not having melt-downs in the first place. Once that first month was up, Triston went home with David, and he was doing extremely well in his new home. Triston also attended public school, and fortunately they were accommodating which relieved David deeply. David had thought about all this as he walked to Triston's room, and he saw him molding something with his clay. Triston loved playing with clay, and he had made David a few sculptures that he kept in his study. David watched him work for another moment, then tapped lightly on the door jam. Triston motioned for him to come in, and he did. "How are you doing in here?" David asked walking up to where Triston sat. Triston got up and gave David a hug holding on for a long moment like he usually did. David hugged back loving the feeling of the boy's arms around him. He kissed the top of Triston's head, then they separated walking over to the bed where the two of them sat down on its edge. "I'm doing good," Triston spelled out on his letter board that his new therapist got for him when she started working for them shortly after Triston came to live with David. "Good," David said. "Me too. Are you ready for dinner, or did you want to sculpt a little longer?" "I think I'm ready to eat," Triston replied. "Okay, I'll get dinner started," David said. While David worked, he thought over the last two years he and Triston spent in the house where they lived. David thought about how lucky he felt to have Triston as his son. Looking at the scene from the outside, no one would guess that David was already a father though. He still thought about his first son though. He thought about him practically every day. The loss of his son had left a deep void in his heart, and he felt like he could almost relate to what people went through who's children had died before them. It was a pain he wouldn't wish on anyone. As David stood there chopping vegetables for a salad, he wondered about his first son. He always felt a mixture of anger and sadness when thinking too intensely about him. A lot of it had been her fault of course. She had a dirt-caked stone where a heart should have been, and cobra venom where blood was supposed to have flowed. That didn't change the fact that David had contributed to the situation because of not being able to be the man he should have been when it counted. He was determined to never make that mistake again. He knew that he had been given a second chance with Triston, and he was damn sure going to do right by him this time around. Author's Notes I know there was no Pietro and Nohea hanging out in this chapter. I wanted to add a little more to the part of the storyline where things were concerned with Nohea and his Mom and Ray. I wanted to show more going on with that, and so I hope all of you like what I did with that. As for David and Triston, you'll get to see more in the next chapter and subsequent chapters as to what that's about. I also hope you guys like where that goes. All that being said, I hope you're all having a good evening. I'll see all of you in Chapter Five.