Through my whole explanation, he sits quietly. Sometimes he looks like he's about to cry. Sometimes he looks like he wants to punch something (the part where my father divorces, where he shouts at my brother for instance). But mostly, he understands. When I finish, he engulfs me in a hug. "Oh my God...I-I'm sorry. But I'm also glad I made you tell me." He holds me at arms length and stares me straight in the eye. "Gavin. I do understand. And I want you to know, you-are-not-alone. Ever. You have friends, you have your brother. You have me. And you are never alone." I stare up at him, and then I can't help it. I grab his waist in a hug. I feel like I'm about to cry, but I don't. I feel strong. Stronger then before. People think standing alone makes you strong, but they're wrong. It's standing with someone else that does it. "You know...you look hungry. I know it's not the time to think about food, but seriously, if you don't eat, you'll pass out." I smile and say, "You know, I am pretty hungry." He laughs. "Finally! I thought you'd never ask to eat! I'm starving! I just didn't want to interrupt with something so stupid as, 'Sorry to interrupt this really tragic story, but I'm starving, I skipped lunch.'" He laughed, getting up from the bed. And, for the first time in six years, I laugh too.
Awww!
[Gavin's POV]
Most people thought I was lucky. Having a Dad who wasn't bothering, pestering me all the time. Asking if I was smoking pot. Prodding me to tell where I was going, and who with. Yeah, lucky... Try being four years old, home alone, while others were playing a simple game of catch in the park. That was what was taken away from me. That game. That simple game...all those simple games. "Well, hell, life's a game. And if you can't play it, get out of the running. You're just a nuisance to the real contenders." That was his motto.
#Flashback#
"Dad! C'mon! You promised! You said we'd go to the park!"
"Please, Gavin, I'm on the phone."
I puff out my chest, trying to look grown up. After all, I was six. I wasn't a baby anymore. I had lost five teeth. Five! You're no longer a baby when you lose two. But five practically makes you a man. "Dad! Please! You promised! You said we'd go to the pond and the park and play catch!"
"Yeah...yeah okay...I'll remember that..." He nodded into the receiver of the phone, clearly tuning me out. Any normal kid would've given up there. Any normal kid would've just gone the next day. Any normal kid would've asked his Mom or brother. But I was no normal kid.
"No, Dad! Now! Come on! You promised we'd go to the park and play a game of catch!" Finally he turns off his phone, and wheels around. "Gavin! Not now! Can't you see I'm on the phone!?"
"Yeah but-"
"No buts! You know the rules! When Daddy's on the phone you dont interrupt him!"
"No but Dad! You- You promised we'd go to the park today!"
"To do what!? I never said anything like that. And I'm far to busy to go to a park..."
"You said we'd play a game! A game of catch! Then we would go fishing!"
"Ah...did I?" He was starting to type on his computer again, tuning me out once again.
"Yes you did!" I said it a bit louder than usual, catching his attention once again. "You said we'd play...a game..."
He rubbed his temples, looking agitated. "Listen, Gavin. I don't have time for games. Do games put bread on the table? Do games get us money? Do games get us a future?"
"No...but...well, they're fun..."
He laughs at this, but it's a laugh of mockery, more of a snort. "Fun? Fun!? You think I have time for fun!? The only game I'm in is the game of life. Life's a game, and if you can't play, get out. You're just a nuisance to the real contenders. Now go play with your brother or something...Jared...yeah, I think he's home."
"But Jared never plays with me..." I started to protest, but he had for the last time tuned me out, and was listening to a conversation over the phone. "Yes sir..." I mumbled meekly.
#End Flashback#
...
When I was about three years old, while other children were busy being blissfully ignorant, I was early introduced to the cruelties of work, pain, and punishment. And I don't just mean putting toys back in the toy chest, and being scolded for being bad. I mean being left home alone for hours at a time, being forgotten, and not having any friends. I wasn't allowed to play with the other kids on the street, and I would sometimes watch them screeching, and having a blast from my normal spot at the sparkling window. How I would wish I could go out there. "Dad, can I please go out and play? Nothing'll happen. I'll be super careful, I promise!"
"Gavin...you know you can't go out there. Me being the senior executive to a major company, and owning minor ones, who knows who wants me to do what. And the way to get to me is through my family." At the time, I bought that. I was only three. But I know now. We meant nothing more to him than the ants that crawled around our basement floor. (Let me correct myself. Our basement floor was spotless. Other's basement floors had ants.) Actually, getting kid napped would probably be good publicity or something. Not only could I not play with other children, I couldn't play at all. We had no toys, no balls, no playthings. The only companion I had was a tennis ball I had found in our backyard. Some kid had thrown it in, and was afraid to come get it. So before my father could say anything, I ran out and got it. Afraid I would be discovered, I stashed it in a shoebox. My first toy. I wasn't about to have it taken away.
Mother had tried to buy my toys. A stuffed animal, a baseball, anything. But before she could give it to me, father would take it away. So Mom just gave up. On everything. She had probably married Dad because he was rich and handsome. She was only 20, she didn't know better. But two years later, when she had her first son, she realized looks weren't all that mattered. Not that she was the best person either. She's the kind of girl who would most likely end up on the streets, being a drug-addict, and only getting jobs in strip-clubs. Which she ended up doing eventually. Father had most likely married her because she was beautiful. Good for the papers, cameras, and media. But once people found out who she was, what she did, they got low respect for my father. She had gone into prostitution for my Father ignored her, and my brother's and I just reminded her of Dad. Finally some papers or what-not found her on the street, drunk and half-dressed. Well, that looked bad for my father's company of course, so he acted shocked and enraged, and divorced. Now I was left without a mother, without friends, and basically, without a father. He had begun traveling once I was old enough to stay home alone, which he decided was eight years old. Asher was barely home since he tried to avoid my Father as much as he could. He'd try to take me places sometimes, but if he was caught with me, he would be in trouble. And Jared would have nothing to do with me. So I was left alone. To fend for myself.
Eventually, I got old enough to understand what was going on. My mother had become a prostitute, my father was a work-obsessed ass, and the only person who had ever shown me love and compassion, the only person who cared for me had been driven away by my father and his wrath. I was alone. Completely alone. Father had though he was introducing me to the real world by showing me pain and loneliness, but in truth, he was only shielding me. I knew nothing of other people and they're pain. I didn't even realize what pain was until I started to go to school. It was a private school of course, but up until then I had been tutored. When I got there, I found out that normal children didn't have fathers infatuated with work and always preoccupied. I found out that most people had brothers and sisters who were all around and would play catch with them in the park for hours. I found out they all either had mothers, or their mom's and dad's were divorced but still loved and kept in touch with them. I found out I was different. And what was most unfortunate, was people knew I was different. So they shunned me. They disregarded me, marked me as "unfit to hang with beings of their knowledge and normality". They ignored me. And if they didn't ignore me, then they made fun of me. They taunted me, mocked me. I would open my mouth, and they would laugh out me before I could get anything out. I developed a shell. And on the rare occasion someone did try to speak to me, I'd snap at them, and be extremely rude, out of fear of being harassed or beleaguered, before they could say anything. It was the only way I knew. With no one to teach me, I didn't know how to react to people, so I shut them out completely. (Which is why I acted the way I did to Shaun) I was scared. I was alone. So without friends, without family, and nearly without myself, I turned away. I kept to myself, and tried not to think. If I thought, then a nagging voice in my head would just tell me how different I was. I became unfeeling to everything. Pain became a daily part of my life. So I just got used to it. I was numb, cold, and anesthetized. All alone...all by myself...without anyone... I remained like that for five years. Shunning all and being shunned. Every aspect of life that I hadnt been taught like most kids until I entered school came rushing at me. I learned of pain everywhere. Of hatred, discrimination, prejudice, death, murder, cruelty, malice. I learned of all kinds of hardship. Like disabilities, famine, deprivation, abuse, everything. And each time, it hit me even harder. As if my pain wasn't enough, I took on the pain of other's. I would fall asleep thinking of how terrible this world was, and how could everyone be so blind. How could people go on laughing and talking, singing and joking when there were children all over without anything. Who couldn't laugh, couldn't love, couldn't live. They were blind. Everyone was blind. Except for me. I took in my pains, other's pains, and the pain of the world, and kept it inside. Which only ate me away from inside to out, destroying me. I was being torn apart, and I didn't even know it. And probably if I had endured anything else, if I had gone on like that, I would've died, or killed myself. But right before I did. Saving me from my world of self-deprecation and self-deprivation was Greg. I had endured pain after pain, suffering after suffering, taking in the hardships of the world on my shoulder's thinking I was alone. I only understood pain. But then Greg...Greg showed me happiness...
...
#Flashback#
I stood outside of my brother's house, feeling extremely nervous. I hadn't seen him for six years. I had only written, and talked on the phone. We had remained very close, especially though all of my hard times. With my father. And when I was a bit...messed up, to say the least. Since he left, his job went to me. Although Jared wanted it the most. But the middle child can never inherit the business. Some law of the company or something. So I became Father's puppet. After he had tried to manipulate me, and mess with my head, soul, and heart, I just moved out. Well, it wasn't exactly moving out in the sense that he let me come. Said life in New York would do me some good. He didn't know I was staying with my brother...not yet. I rang the doorbell for the third time, and tapped my foot impatiently. How long was this supposed to take!? My arm was getting tired from holding my heavy luggage so long, and it was getting a bit cool out. Finally the door opened a crack, and there stood... some boy. It wasn't some one I knew, and it definitely wasn't my brother. "Erm...is Asher home?" The boy just stared at me.
"Jim, who is it!?" called a voice from somewhere in the house. I could tell right away it was Ash. He came to the door, and stopped short. He paled, and his mouth nearly fell open. "N...no...G-Gavin?" I wasn't to surprised he was acting like this. I had kind of came in unannounced. "Yea-umph!" I couldn't get any more words out, because I was engulfed in a hug. "Oh my God...Gavin...you're...you're here. I don't believe it! Wait..." He let me go, and held me at arms length. "Did...did something happen...?"
"No...well, sort of. Well, I guess I just followed your advice." I grinned, and he pulled me back into a hug. He then let me go after a while, and introduced the boy who opened the door as his roommate, and best friend Jim. Jimmy Ryder, the tech. nerd who was amazing at special effects, and was Ash's idol and mentour...even though he was only 23... Then he took me on a tour of the house, showed me my room, and got me settled. Thats when he sat me down on the couch. Jimmy had gone out, to leave us some "quality time".
"Gavin. Now really. I know something happened. Something you couldn't write about...what happened...?" I took a deep breath.
"N-nothing happened. I...I just got fed up with Dad. You know?"
"No Gavin. Tell me. Now. If it's something you have to hide, then it's not something you should keep inside."
#End flashback#
I could tell there was no hiding. It was about time I told some one other than Greg. Greg... So I told him. And he didn't take it very well. After crying along with my story, hugging me, then getting into a rant about Dad, then consoling me, then talking himself, he was worn out. But I guess I would be too if I heard this happened to someone I loved...
Okay the next part is kind of weird. It's sort of a flashback, and sort of not...you'll see.
Whew! Well, there you go! Part one of Gavin's story. Yes, there's going to be two parts. This just seemed like such a sweet part, and I didn't want to ruin it with what was to happen. The next part might seem a bit...well...farfetched, but it makes for good stories. ^^
Too true!
And since there are two parts to this flashback thing, I'm going to include the short in the next quiz. I know, I'm just evil like that! But hey, you have something to look forward to! ^-^
Yeah, Jared, he sure played. He played my father's game. He was Dad's little lap dog. Dad said stand, he'd leap. Well, let me clarify my brothers first. I have two. The first is Asher. He was probably the only friend I had growing up. But being the first born, all Dad did was try to mold him into a younger copy of himself. So eventually, Asher got tired of it, and just picked up and left. I was only ten.
#Flashback#
"Asher, you have to go. It's been decided. My father went to this school, my father's father, and even me. Now it's your turn. Being the first-born, it's your duty. The fee's even been paid for. Now all you have to do is pack."
"Decided!? By who!? Oh yeah, you! Dad, I told you, I'm not going."
"How do you expect to become a business man if you don't go? How are you going to follow in my footsteps?"
"Dad! Who said I wanted to!? Who said-"
"It's not a matter of if you want to or not, you are going. You must in order to fulfill your duties."
"Oh really!? And what duties are those!?"
"Your duties as senior executive at Global Tech. Center! You are to take command as soon as I am no longer applicable!"
"What!? Dad, I thought I cleared that up! I'm not taking your place. I'm not going to some prep-ass business school! And I'm not going to be your little puppet. Take Jared, he seems like he's ready to jump at your command!"
"How dare you speak that way to me! You are going to do what I say! I am your father, and you shall obey me! Forget about packing! Get in the car! NOW!" For a second, Asher looked stricken. His face turned ghostly white, and he looked as if he were to obey. But instead, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and replied, "N-no..."
"Wh-what!?" Now it was my father's turn to look stricken. I doubt anyone had ever said no to him before.
"I...I said... 'no'. No! I'm...I'm not going! You cannot make me. I am going to do my own thing, and chose my own path. I will not be your puppet." From your spot in the corner, you could hear there was ice and hatred dripping from his every word. Before my father could reply, Asher walked my way, and stood right in front of me. He cupped my chin and looked right into my eyes. "Gavin..." he whispered, "Don't let him manipulate you. I have to go, but it's not because of you...or...or Mom..." His voice faltered for a second, but then he returned to his normal speech. "Listen, now that I'm leaving Dad will try to use you. Don't let him. Take care of yourself, and if you ever, ever, need anything at all, call on me. I'll write you. I...I love you Gavin." He then bent down and kissed my head. Then he turned, grabbed his wallet and an apple off the counter, and walked out the door. But before left, he turned around one last time to look at me, and I could have sworn I saw a tear...but hey, I was ten, what did I know...? Then he just walked out the door. I heard the sound of his mustang convertible pulling out of the gravel driveway, and my Dad rushed to the door. He had been standing there shocked, as if he had been slapped. But now he ran over to the still open door.
"You ungrateful little scum! This is what I get for raising you!? For taking you into my house!? For feeding, clothing, and offering you my business!? You are my property! I practically own you!" Asher must have stayed in the driveway long enough to hear those words, because the next thing I saw was my father get an apple chucked at his head. Hey, Asher had good aim. He was the best pitcher on his Little League team for seven years. And the apple was the only object he had with him to throw. My father cussed and shouted, "Don't you ever come back here! EVER! If I EVER see your dirty, ungrateful face, I will have you arrested! You hear me!?" But Asher had already left. He was at least a half mile down the road, setting his own path.
#Flashback#
Asher...oh jeez. He drove out to New York, and studied to major in special effects in movies. Whatever that's called... He was, and is the only friend I ever had... After six more years, I got fed up, and went to live with him.
...
I was walking home one day. It was snowing, and hard to see. Suddenly a student from my school came up. I had learned to narrow them down into two groups. The first was the group that would just ignore me completely. The just regarded me as "weird" and decided I was just someone not to be familiar with. The other group was the one who would provoke me. They would taunt and harass me. I was just some abnormal, introverted kid who had no feelings. This guy approaching me was the latter.
"Well, well, look who it is. Hey psycho, what up?" Phsycho...my nickname. To them, I was psycho. I just ignored the boy, and kept walking, my head down. You'd think my voice box would've stopped working altogether from how infrequently I used it. "Hey, where ya going psycho? To the nuthouse?" Again, I just kept my head down, and made my way through the thickly falling snow. "Aw, c'mon psyke, don't you have any manners? I thought your mother would've taught you better. Oh...that's right...your mama's been livein' on the streets since your Daddy kicked her out. Poor little prostitute bitch..." That one hit a nerve. I spun around, and glared at him, daggers shooting out of my eyes. "What.Did.You.Call.Her...?" He laughed, happy to have stricken a soft spot. "Called her just what she is. A bitch. You got a problem with that? No? Didn't think so. Didn't think you'd been taught how to have balls by that work-ass father of yours. Not to mention his little lapdog. And...who was your other fag-ass brother...? Axle...Asher? Yeah. Asher. Where's he now? In NYC getting fucked up by other fags?" That was enough. He could slight my father, and Jared, but my mother and brother were another story. You don't mess with the only people who ever showed me compassion. I felt my face turn purple in fury, and the boy just laughed his head off. "Hit a nerve there, did I psyke?" Suddenly, my hand shot forward. It hit him square in the jaw. I had never hit someone before, and this was a complete shock to me. Great, another guilt to add to my list. He looked stunned for a second, then enraged. "Wha...What the...How...you...!? How dare you! You just hit me!" He charged toward me, screaming all the way. But I barely noticed. All I felt at the moment was anger and rage. I ran up, and met his blow with one of my own. He staggered back again, and I seized my opportunity. I grabbed his wrists, and pinned him to a wall. Then I brought my knee up and shoved it into his stomach. "If you- *kick* -EVER- *punch* -talk to me about my family- *punch* -that way again, - *kick* -I'll MURDER YOU!!!" I was about to strike him again, but he was too quick. He brought his arm up, and caught my soaring fist. He then bent it back, and threw me onto the ground. I just lay there, feeling numb and exhausted. The cold snow felt good against my burning head and aching side. He's about to bring his foot crashing down on my skull, but then something happens. I passed out then, but I vaguely remember him falling to the ground...
I woke up a few hours later, and found myself in a bed...not my bed, I distinctly note. It was satin and had black and tan sheets. I just laid there for a second, resting my pounding head. That's when I remembered what happened. I had nearly...killed...some guy. I jumped up from the bed, but once I did, the room starting spinning, and I fell back down. But the voices in my head were far from gone. You nearly killed him...You nearly killed him...YOU NEARLY KILLED HIM! they kept chanting, louder and louder. "No...No! I-I didn't! I swear! It was an accident! I-he-I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" I bury my head in the pillow, and squeeze my eyes shut as if this is a bad dream, and I can make it go away. I can just make it go away...all of it can go...away...away...
"Course you didn't," said a voice inside the room. I jerk my head up, and stare around wildly. It took me awhile to adjust my eyes to the darkness, but then I notice some guy in the doorway. I recognize him as Greg, a guy from my Language Arts and Social Studies class.
"Talking to yourself...never a good sign. But judging by the way you are, I'd say it's pretty good compared to killing yourself. Which, if I might add you were doing picking a fight with that guy." It was an attempt at a joke, but I didn't laugh. I couldn't laugh. I hadn't laughed for over six years... "You remember me don't you? I'm Greg. I go to your school. I've been trying to talk to you for, oh say...the last couple years, but you blow me off."
"Why-why would you want to talk to me...?" I manage to croak.
"Well, why not? You seem like a pretty cool guy. When your not about to commit murder. I kid, I kid! You seem cool all the time." He winked and stroked my cheek. I draw back at the touch, but he doesn't look offended. Quite the contrary actually, he looks calm. "You seem to have a lot of problems. Mind sharing?" I shake my head no. He wouldn't get it. "Aw, c'mon. You'll never feel better unless you tell someone." Again I shake my head. "Listen, Gavin. I'm you friend. You can tell me." Friend? Yeah...right. Like that would happen. I can see he's just going to keep pestering me, so I realize I have to tell him something. "I...er...just have a huge exam coming up that's all. Been really stressed. You know, lack of sleep and all." A perfectly good explanation. Lot's of kids get stressed over exams. Surely he'd let me go now. No such luck. He was too smart. He grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. "Gavin. Don't lie to me. I know when people lie. And I know that this...stress...is not just over exams. You.Can.Tell.Me! I will listen. I will understand!" Understand!? UNDERSTAND!? No! He'll never understand! He'll never understand... He can't know! Doesn't know... He'll NEVER know! Never know... He doesn't know what I'm going through! He can't! He won't...leave him alone...he won't know...go away now...he's not your friend...you don't have friends...you don't deserve friends...you... I burst out crying then. Bawling, wailing. If it weren't for Greg holding me, I would've fallen off the bed, and just laid on the floor crying. "I...don't...deserve...friends..." I whisper through my tears. He hears me, and from that, he gets a pretty good idea of what's going on. Not the whole idea, but a pretty shrewd one. He waits patiently for me to cease my tears, meanwhile rubbing my back and whispering, "Sh...Gavin...shhh...it's alright...it's not your fault." Eventually, I stop crying, and look up. And...I tell him. I defy my father, Jared, and all of those who mocked me. For once, I share my problems with someone else, other than myself.
(Skipping ahead because I'm lazy. ^^)
Thanks for reading! Rate and message, and I hope to get number 9 out soon! But no promises...-_-''' And the above pic is of my hero, Leonardo DiCaprio! This is one from The Aviator. Ciao for now! ^^
