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Tales told - a.k.a free reads > February 2014 M/M picture - STORIES

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message 1: by Kaje (last edited May 25, 2014 04:49PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments This is our winner for the picture of two guys - evocative, isn't it? Where are they? What just happened? What are they talking about?

Give us your writing, any length or style, just keep it YA.

Stories: Jo
Horaida chapter 1
Horaida chapter 2 & 3

message 2: by Jo (new)

Jo Ramsey (Jo_Ramsey) | 1017 comments Jace told me he wouldn’t be in school today, but it’s still weird not seeing him here. Every morning, his dark brown eyes and bright white smile are the first things I look for when I walk into the building. He makes this craphole of a high school a whole lot better.
But he isn’t here. He didn’t tell me why he was going to be absent. He just grabbed me yesterday on the way to the bus and said, “I won’t see you tomorrow, Logan. Hope you have a good day.” He walked away before I could ask what was going on.
I’m worried about him. It’s lunch block, and I’ve texted him about half a dozen times this morning to make sure he’s okay. He hasn’t answered, and that isn’t like him. Usually he answers texts from me even when he’s sitting in church or at dinner with his family. No one knows about him and me, but that doesn’t mean he ignores me.
Jillian drops into the seat beside me and plonks her lunch tray on the table. “Where’s your Siamese twin?”
“I don’t know.” I pull my phone out of my pocket to see if Jace has answered in the past five seconds or so since last time I checked. Because I wouldn’t have felt my phone vibrate against my hip or anything. “He said something yesterday about being absent. Maybe an appointment or something.”
I don’t think that’s true, though. Jace tells me about every appointment he has no matter how minor. He hates everything to do with doctors and medical stuff, though he’s never told me why. Even going to a dentist freaks him out, so he always tells me when he had to go somewhere. He says he can’t tell his parents the appointments bother him, but he can tell me everything.
“If he’s in an appointment, he wouldn’t be able to answer texts,” Jillian points out.
“But all morning? I’ve been texting him since before homeroom.” If Jace’s appointment is taking all day, something must be really wrong.
Jillian pokes the so-called meat on her tray with her spork. “He was weird yesterday.”
My chest gets tight. Jillian calls lots of things weird, so there might be nothing at all to what she’s saying. Except now that I think about it, Jace was quieter than usual yesterday. He didn’t smile as much. In school, we don’t let on that we’re a couple, so we don’t talk a lot or act affectionate. But yesterday, he barely even looked at me, and that isn’t normal.
“Weird how?” I croak.
“Like not talking.” She hesitates. “He gave me that CD. You know how he always carries it around even though he says he doesn’t have a CD player? He said I can have it because he doesn’t need it anymore.”
I can’t answer. The CD is from an old “hair band,” and I don’t know why Jace keeps it in his backpack. I asked about it once, and all he would say was it reminded him of someone he missed.
He would never give that away. The day I asked about it, he wouldn’t even let me touch it when I wanted to see the song titles.
“Something’s wrong.” I blurt it out before I can think. “Cover for me.”
“Where are you going?” Jillian’s eyes widen as I stand up. “Logan, you can’t skip. Jace just had an appointment, right?”
“Not if he gave away that CD.” I grab my tray. Even when I’m freaking out, twelve years of “clean up after yourself” kick in automatically.
I hurry away without answering her and dump my tray by the door. The whole thing goes into the trash. I don’t have time to scrape the food and then put the tray on the pass-through like we’re supposed to.
I manage to get to the front door without anyone stopping me. Teachers are either in class or monitoring the cafeteria, and the administration doesn’t pay much attention. And the secretaries aren’t at their desks in the office, right beside the door, so they must be at lunch. I have to leave by the main door even with the risk of being stopped. From the beginning of homeroom until the end of last period, all the other doors in the building have alarms set so no one can sneak in or out.
I bang out through the one un-alarmed door by the office. Still no one stops me. My heart’s pounding about eighty miles a second, and I have no idea where I’m going. I’ve never just walked out of school before.
But my gut’s screaming at me that something’s wrong with Jace. He hasn’t answered his texts all day. Even if he had a wicked long appointment, he should have answered the texts I sent right before school. Doctors’ offices don’t open at seven in the morning.
And he gave Jillian his CD. The one he wouldn’t let me hold. The one he said he kept with him all the time because he wanted to remember. He didn’t tell me who he was trying to remember, though.
I have no idea where I’m even going. My car’s in the student lot, the old junker that belonged to my grandmother until my parents, aunts, and uncles decided she shouldn’t drive anymore. I start it up and head to Jace’s house, even though I don’t think he’s there.
His mom’s car is in the driveway. Jace’s car that his parents bought him when he got his license last spring is gone.
Jace’s mom makes me nervous. Something about her feels like she could explode any second, even though she’s always smiling and offering snacks and drinks. There’s darkness in her eyes, and she never really looks at Jace even when she’s smiling at him. Even if he and I weren’t trying to keep anyone from finding out about us, I wouldn’t spend much time at his house. His mom almost never goes anywhere, and she makes me nervous.
This time, I have to deal with her. I park at the curb and go to the front door. She opens right away when I ring the bell, like she’d been standing there watching me park. She wrinkles her forehead and blinks a couple times. “Logan? It isn’t early release, is it? Jace isn’t home yet.”
“It isn’t early release, but Jace didn’t come to school.” She had to know that already. If a parent didn’t call the school to say their kid would be absent, the school called them.
“He went to school this morning.” She frowns and rubs her eyes.
That’s when I realize she’s crying.
“He didn’t come to school,” I say again. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”
“It’s a bad day.” She pauses and touches the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “He didn’t go to school? Where is he?”
She’s messed up. I don’t know what she’s crying about, but she sounds like she doesn’t even understand what I’m saying to her, and that really worries me.
“I don’t know where he is.” I take a deep breath. I have to get through to her, and I hate doing it because she’s already upset. “Mrs. O’Neill, I’ve been texting him all morning. He isn’t answering. He isn’t here, right? So do you know where he went?”
“I don’t know.” She gulps. “He said he was going for a drive before school. He left early. I thought he went to school. The school called but I thought they were wrong. Sometimes they’re wrong.”
“Yeah.” I don’t have much to say about the school’s attendance system. I’m losing my patience. Whatever’s going on with Jace’s mom isn’t as important as finding Jace. Maybe I’ll end up making a fool out of myself for panicking like this, but I can’t shake the feeling something’s really wrong. “Where did he go for his drive, did he say?”
She shakes her head. “Sometimes he goes down to the harbor. Down where those marinas are.”
“Thanks.” I don’t bother saying goodbye.
Our town’s right along the ocean, but the way the land goes, we have a nice sheltered harbor that makes a great place for boats. We have four or five marinas in a line around the harbor, and at this time of year there aren’t many people in them. Boating around here doesn’t really kick off until Memorial Day, and it’s only April.
I speed across town but slow down when I get to the harbor road. I have to watch where I’m going and keep an eye out for Jace’s silver Nissan. I don’t know for sure that he’s here or why he would have hung out here all day, but it’s the only place I can come up with to look.
And it’s where I find him. His car’s parked in the lot of the last marina before the road gives way to houses my family wouldn’t be able to afford in their lifetime. The Nissan is the only car in the lot, and I park beside it and yank my key out of the ignition while trying to get out. I end up tangling myself in my seat belt and barely manage not to face-plant on the pavement.
Once I recover, I check Jace’s car, where he isn’t. And then I look around. I don’t see him anywhere in the parking lot or on the section of docks I can see from where I stand. Yet something insists to me that he’s here. Some sense of him that I can’t figure out.
I head for the docks, because that would be the most logical place to find him. He likes the ocean. He’s told me that before.
A chain link fence separates the parking lot from the waterfront section of the marina and the docks. I peer through the fence and my heart stops.
Jace is teetering back and forth at the edge of the main pier.
I open my mouth to yell to him and stop myself. I would startle him, and he might fall. At best, he’d hurt himself falling backward onto the pier. At worst, he’d fall forward. It’s a pretty warm day, probably fifty degrees, but the water’s still way too cold to be in.
Maybe he’s just looking at the water. Whatever upset his mother might be bothering him too, and he might just want to calm himself down. He might be just fine.
I don’t believe it, though. The way he’s kind of rocking back and forth says he’s trying to decide whether to jump.
I should call someone, but I don’t know who. Jace’s mother wouldn’t be any help. She didn’t even know he wasn’t at school. I don’t know if this counts as an emergency, so calling 9-1-1 might be a dumb idea.
To my left, the gate in the fence is slightly open. It’s chained shut, but there’s enough of a gap to squeeze through. That must be how Jace got in. And it’s how I’ll get in, because I have to make sure he’s okay.
I barely make it through the gap, and as my shirt catches on a piece of wire I realize someone might see me. I’m not supposed to be here. Then again, neither is Jace. If no one’s called the cops on him yet, I’m probably safe.
Heart racing, I slowly walk down the pier. I try to land my feet a little harder than I usually would so Jace will hear me coming, but I still don’t dare to speak. If he hears me, maybe he’ll step away from the edge, but if I say anything, I might scare him.
I’m about two-thirds of the way to him when he glances over his shoulder. His eyes widen a little. “Logan, what the hell are you doing here?”
“You weren’t at school, and you didn’t answer my texts.” I take a couple more steps. “What’s going on? I went to your house. Your mom thought you were at school.”
“I told you I wouldn’t be!” His face twists. “Damn it, Logan, why couldn’t you just deal with that? Why are you frigging stalking me?”
“I’m not.” His accusation stings like hell. I try not to show it. He’s upset, but I don’t think it’s really about me. “You always answer my texts. And you did say you’d be out today, but you didn’t tell your mom, apparently. Jace, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Go away.” He turns back to face the water.
He teeters more.
My heart pounds so hard all I hear is the blood rushing through my ears.
Jace lifts one foot.
Before I know what I’m doing, I lunge and grab him around the waist. He flails and for a second I think we’re both going into the harbor, so I yank backward. We tumble to the pier, both on our backs with Jace half on top of me.
He screams and bursts into tears.
For a second, I don’t know what the hell to do. Then it registers on me that he’s crying. I sit up and pull him into my arms. There’s a post behind me, and I lean against it, holding Jace tight because if I let him go, I might lose him.
I love him. I can’t lose him.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. I don’t know if he can even hear me, so I say it again. “It’s okay. I’m here, and I won’t let you go.”
He makes a noise, and after a second I realize he’s saying something. His words are garbled by crying, but I make out, “Over there. He was there.”

message 3: by Jo (new)

Jo Ramsey (Jo_Ramsey) | 1017 comments “Who was?” I smooth his hair on his forehead. “Jace, you’re scaring the shit out of me. Tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”
“My brother.”
I must have heard him wrong. Jace doesn’t have a brother. He told me it’s just him and his parents in the four-bedroom house they bought here in town last year. He’s an only child.
Except obviously not, and I don’t know if I want to hear what happened. But if it brought Jace to the edge of this pier ready to jump, I need to let him say it. “What brother?”
He gulps and sniffles. “Brice. His name was Brice.”
Even more than before, I don’t want to know. But now I have to find out what happened. “You told me your parents have kept their boat here for a few years and you moved to town last spring because they were tired of driving up from the South Shore.”
“He died over there.” Jace raises a shaking arm and points at the other side of the pier. “It was my fault. It’s all my fault, and my mother can’t even look at me!”
I hold my breath. I have no clue what to say. I’m starting to see the pieces. Jace had a brother, one he never told me about. One who died in the marina where we’re sitting. And now I remember the story from the year before.
From April eleventh. Today’s date, one year ago. A college kid home for the weekend came with his father and younger brother to get their boat in the water for the season. There was some accident; I can’t remember all the details. Someone fell, and someone hit their head.
And someone died. Jace’s brother died. The news didn’t report the name, or if they did I missed it because I had more important things to worry about like math tests and the Spring Fling dance I took Jillian to. But Jace showed up at school about a month later with dark, haunted eyes. Those eyes were the first thing I noticed about him his first day.
No one changed schools in the middle of the final quarter of the year without a good reason. Jace never told me why his family had moved. Now I know.
“You guys came here to be closer to where it happened?” It’s sick. Who would want to live where someone they loved died?
He nods, his head moving against my chest. “Mom wanted to be near him. His spirit or what the frig ever. She didn’t want to be away. She kind of lost it.” He sobs again. “This morning… It happened today. I mean, last year, but… It was a Sunday. We just got the boat back in the water, and Dad wanted us to come check on it. So we did, and I slipped over there.”
He points again and moves, and I tighten my arms around him so he can’t get away. If I let go, he’ll jump. His brother died and now he wants to die. He hasn’t said so, but I believe it a hundred percent.
My heart aches. I want to fix him and I can’t. All I can do is hold on and pray maybe someone did see me sneaking into the marina. Maybe the cops are on their way right now. I don’t even dare to let go of Jace with one hand so I can get my phone, otherwise I’d call the police myself. Or someone. Someone who can help, because I can’t.
I can only hold on.
“I fell,” Jace says, so quietly I barely hear him. “Into the water. It was so cold, and I couldn’t breathe because I went under. They told me Brice jumped in after me and hit his head on something. I woke up in the hospital. Dad was there. Mom wasn’t. She wouldn’t even speak to me for a few days. She thinks I killed Brice.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t think that.” I only say it because it seems like the right thing to say. I don’t really believe it. Not after all the times I’ve seen Mrs. O’Neill not looking at Jace even when she was smiling at him.
He doesn’t believe it either. “She does. She said it when I came home from the hospital. She said I killed Jace. Later on she and Dad said she didn’t mean it, she was just grieving. But she meant it. She mostly doesn’t even talk to me anymore. It was a year ago.”
“I know.” I kiss the top of his head because I don’t know what else to do. He’s babbling, but he needs to. And as long as he’s talking, he’s with me, which means he’s alive. He might not want to be, but he is.
“I was going to jump.” He moves a little again, and again I hold him more tightly. “I’ve been standing there forever trying to jump. I can’t swim. If I go in, I don’t come out. But I’m too gutless to do it.”
I stroke his hair. “No. Not gutless. You’re too brave. Living takes guts. Dying doesn’t.”
“My mother would be glad.” He takes a long, shuddering breath. “She wouldn’t care.”
“She would.” Why doesn’t anyone come help us? I’ll sit here forever if I have to, but Jace needs more help than I can give him. I need to get him away from the pier. Away from the marina, from his mother, from everything that’s hurting him, and I have no way to do it.
He shakes his head. “She’d be glad. The boy who killed her son would be gone.”
“Her other son would be gone.” I hesitate. I don’t know what to say to make this better. “Jace, let me help you. Please. I want you around. Lots of people want you around. What happened to Brice wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. Please let me help.”
“You can’t.” He snuggles against me, and I wish to hell I could take away his pain. “No one can.”
“People can.” I dare to move one of my hands to my pocket. “Please. I can call someone.”
“Why did you come here?” He looks around. “I came here to be alone.”
“You aren’t alone.” I don’t know if hearing it helps him, but saying it helps me.
“Go ahead,” he says.”
I keep one arm around him and manage to fish my phone out of my pocket with the other hand. Hitting the right numbers with one hand while trying not to drop the phone isn’t easy, but I won’t let go of Jace. Not until I know someone else is here to help me keep him safe.
Besides, 9-1-1 is only three digits. Not too hard.
A woman answers. “What is your emergency?”
“I need help for my friend.” I name the marina. “I’m sitting with him on the pier. He…” I trail off, not willing to say out loud what Jace wants to do. “He needs help. He isn’t injured. He’s…”
I have no idea how to explain. Thank God, the woman seems to understand. “I’ll have someone there in five minutes. Are you and he safe until then?”
“Yes.” I glance down at Jace, who’s staring at the water but isn’t trying to move. “We can hang in here that long.”
“I’m going to stay on the line with you,” she says. “Will your friend talk to me?”
“I don’t know.” I hold the phone so Jace can see it. “Will you talk to the dispatcher, Jace?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t talk to anyone. They’ll all think it’s my fault.”
I bring the phone back to my ear. “Did you hear him?”
“Yes,” the woman says. “That’s okay. Just stay on the line. Someone will be there soon.”
“I used to love the ocean,” Jace says. “I used to love going on the boat. Now I can’t stand it. They made me move here where Brice died and I hate it. Every single day, I remember him.”
“I understand,” I say, because it seems important to say something.
We sit there for a few minutes. I don’t know what to say, and the woman on the phone isn’t talking either, though I can hear her breathing. Then a car door slams in the parking lot, then two more doors.
I glance toward the gate. Two male police officers and a guy in jeans and a sweatshirt are standing there. The guy unlocks the gate, and the officers walk through.
“Hey, guys.” The officer speaking is tall with red curly hair. Grant. He went to school with my oldest sister. “What’s going on?”
“Jace is upset.” Again, I don’t want to say Jace came here to kill himself. Grant isn’t an idiot. He can figure out what’s happening. “He skipped school. I found him at the end of the pier a little while ago.”
“My fault,” Jace murmurs.
Grant nods at me and crouches in front of us. “Jace, I’m Grant. Can you tell me what’s happening today?”
Jace shakes his head. Grant looks at me.
“This is Jace O’Neill,” I say. “His brother was Brice.”
Grant raises his eyebrows, and I know he gets it. He waves toward the other officer, who hurries back through the gate.
“Jace, I’d like to bring you back to the parking lot.” Grant’s voice is low and soothing. “We can talk there. It’s getting windy and kind of cold out here, isn’t it?”
“I don’t care,” Jace says.
“I do.” I kiss his head again, not caring that Grant’s watching. “I’m cold, and you’re shivering. Come on. It’ll be warmer by our cars.”
“You’re cold?” He turns his head slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, but let’s go with Grant, okay?” My heart starts thudding again. I don’t have any clue what we’ll do if Jace refuses to move. Or worse, if he breaks away from me.
But he slowly pulls away, and Grant stands up blocking Jace’s path to the edge of the pier. Jace and I get up, and Grant stays on Jace’s other side as we walk slowly to the parking lot.
I can’t help letting out a long sigh when our feet touch pavement instead of the wooden slats of the pier. We still aren’t totally in the clear, but at least the water isn’t quite so close.
An ambulance pulls into the parking lot as we walk through the gate. Jace stops and squeaks out a noise I hope I’ll never hear again. “No hospitals.”
“Jace.” I take his hand and step in front of him so I can try to look him in the eye. He doesn’t let me, but at least I’m blocking his view of the ambulance now. “I want you to be well, okay? I want you to talk to someone.”
“No hospitals.” He takes a step backward.
Grant is immediately behind him, speaking softly, reassuring him. I stay right in front of him and walk backward as Grant gets us moving again.
I don’t want to see Jace get into that ambulance either, because I can feel his fear like a mist against me, but there’s no other choice. He needs help, and even if he hates the hospital, he’ll get help there.
He says, “No hospital” again when we reach the ambulance, but he doesn’t put up any fight when the other officer and a female EMT help him into the back. They close the doors on him before I can say anything.
Grant puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me to his car. “They’ll call his parents,” he says. “It’s a good thing you found him. He’s not in good shape. What were you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“It’s the CD.” I know this doesn’t make any sense to him. “Jace had this CD he wouldn’t let anyone touch, and yesterday he gave it away. And he told me yesterday he wouldn’t be in school today. I texted him this morning. He didn’t answer, and we always answer each other’s texts. And then I found out about that CD. He said it’s important and reminds him—It must remind him of Brice.”
Grant looks kind of confused, but he just nods. “So you were afraid something had happened to him? That doesn’t explain why you came out here, though.”
“I went to his house first,” I say. “His mother didn’t know he wasn’t at school. She said he told her he was going for a drive this morning, and that he sometimes comes to the marina. She didn’t say which one, but I drove around until I found him. Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.” He pats my shoulder. “You did everything right, Logan. He’s alive because you found him and called us. You’re a good friend.”
“Yeah.” I’m not just Jace’s friend, but this is definitely not the time to bring that up.
“Go on home, okay?” He glances at the ambulance as it heads out of the parking lot. “They’ll take him someplace he can get help, and they’ll notify his parents. They’ll take good care of him. You need to take care of yourself now. I’ll contact the school and let them know what happened so you won’t get in trouble.”
I couldn’t care less about school, but I nod. “Thanks.”
“Call me if you need to talk.” He gives me a little smile. “You saved someone today, Logan. Be proud of that.”
I get into my car while he watches. Apparently he’s not leaving until I do. I drive out of the lot and head home feeling numb. Jace almost died. I kept him from jumping today, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try again.

message 4: by Jo (new)

Jo Ramsey (Jo_Ramsey) | 1017 comments I can’t think that way, though. I kept him from jumping today. He’s on his way to the hospital, and they’ll help him. Maybe they’ll make his parents understand how much he needs them to tell him he didn’t kill his brother.
Maybe they’ll help Jace understand it wasn’t his fault.
Too many maybes are swirling around in my head. I don’t have any answers. I never knew how bad Jace was hurting, and I should have. If I’d paid more attention, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up at the marina today. If I’d asked more questions about his family or why they’d moved here, maybe he would have trusted me enough to tell me.
If I hadn’t known how much that CD means to him, I wouldn’t have thought it was weird of him to give it to Jillian. And if he and I weren’t so close, I wouldn’t have cared that he didn’t answer my texts all morning.
Maybe I failed him, but today I helped. Not much, but enough to keep him alive. And as long as he’s alive, things can get better. I can be here for him when he comes home. I can be his friend, and I can love him.
Maybe that will be enough.

message 5: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments Jo wrote: "..."

Thank you! And so fast - it's great to end the week with a new story and I'm so glad it turned out okay, for now. That they'll have the chance for more.

message 6: by Jo (new)

Jo Ramsey (Jo_Ramsey) | 1017 comments Thanks :) I saw that pic this morning and it just sparked something... I wrote the story in about two hours.

message 7: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments Jo wrote: "Thanks :) I saw that pic this morning and it just sparked something... I wrote the story in about two hours."

It was great. And it is an evocative picture.

message 8: by Teresa (new)

Teresa | 171 comments Very nice!

message 9: by Wren (last edited Feb 08, 2014 02:43PM) (new)

Wren  (wrenreaders) sometimes im cold
feel like a hundred years old
but you're always there for me.....

you whisper and you sigh
your eyes are bluer than the sky
and this is where i want to be......

the water is so calm
the birds above singing their song,
but their music cannot compare to yours.......

a secret place for us,
i will put all of my trust
in you, my love......

message 10: by Horaida (last edited Feb 10, 2014 01:35PM) (new)

Horaida Rodriguez (horaidalikdafri) | 43 comments Freeing Bail

Chapter 1

“We’re getting out of here, Rory,” Bail’s voice shook.

The cut on his eyebrow was still bleeding. The swelling of his lip was only just going down. I hated this. I hated watching him sit through the pain because he felt he had to. His dad constantly told him that crying was for sissies and he was forbidden from doing it. But at least around me I’d hoped he’d feel safe enough to cry.

Unfortunately even I wasn’t important enough for him to show all of his sides.

“Where would we run off too?” I ask peeling some hair away from his face. The heat radiated from his body. “We don’t have money, no jobs.”

He grabbed my arm and wrapped it around his body. I don’t understand why this has to be so hard. Why couldn’t Bail and I be normal?

“We’ll figure it out.” He cocked his head back to look at me. “We need to get away from him.”

Because normal is overrated. Normal was everyone else. And I had always fought it. If I hadn’t come along would he be sitting with me, loving me? He sure as hell wouldn’t have been beaten up.

A Few Months Ago

I practically tore apart our New York apartment when mom told me we were heading to the south. Living with the grandparents that wanted nothing to do with us, didn’t exactly get me jumping to pack my entire room. Sarah had emptied out hers in a few hours because the south meant a real home. A house with a back yard that she can run in. There will probably be a lake she can swim in and find out that she didn’t know how.

Most of my things were sitting in the dumpster below my window.

“I fucking hate you!” I yelled at her. My mother could take so much. She took me calling her a bitch and saying she wasn’t my mom. She took me blaming her for dad’s death. But the one thing I wished she had slapped me for was being the reason why we had to move.

We passed the welcome to Blue Mountain sign on the high way an hour ago. Mom was lousy with directions and she had me manning the map. For the love of god I didn’t know how to read it. All I saw was a bunch of squiggles and names. We’d switched off driving once, but we learned that my sense of direction was worse than hers and decided not to do it again.

On the way we passed a mossy lake.

That summer changed everything for me. We pulled up to Pete and Claire’s home. Mom hated when I called them that. When they were around it was Grandma and Grandpa. Yeah right. They weren’t my grandparents.

They lived just on the edge of the Mississippi river. A huge house with shutter windows and a wraparound porch. There wasn’t one ounce of paint that was chipped cause god forbid if it was anything but perfect.

Sarah’s small body jumped out of the car. She kicked off her sandals and ran in a complete circle around the birch tree in the middle of the yard. Her hair looked an awful lot like moms. Curly and huge. They’d tried ironing it down, but it just looked like a big puff ball.

All I could do was ignore moms knocking on my window.

“You have to get out of the car eventually,” she said through the closed glass. I pretended like I didn’t hear her, but the knocking continued until it turned into banging and I heard the window crack.

“It doesn’t matter where you move us, mom, I’ll still be me,” I tell her when I finally give in and grab a few boxes from the back of the mini.

“Then you try to be a little less you and more…normal.”

That word had been the product of a lot of our conversations on the road.

You need to act more normal when we’re around your grandparents. Remember we are a normal family. Sarah wear the pink dress, it’s more normal than the polka dot.

Okay so maybe the last one wasn’t exactly directed at me. None of them were. But I could hear the underlining in my mother’s voice. Rory was somewhere in there. She didn’t have to say it.

I put on the happy face through dinner. Answered all of Pete’s questions about how school back in the city was. And tried not to throw up when Claire kept saying how grown up we looked and how handsome I turned out to be. I only seen her once as a kid. And even then I wasn’t happy when she was around.

A few hours later I was taking the front steps two at a time, swinging my mother’s keys in my hand. Behind me I heard the screen door slam shut.

“Where you going?” Sarah has her hands cupped around her mouth like I was a hundred yards away. The car was parked a few feet away from the porch.

“I’m going to check out the town,” I told her, jingling the keys in the door.

“Can I come?”

“It’s late you should be getting to bed.” I climbed in.

“It’s only eight thirty,” I heard her yell as I pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t need my ten year old sister tagging along.

I played with the dials on the radio, finding a comfortable station that played The Rolling Stones. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel.

Everyone was out tonight.

The small movie theater was playing Night of the Living dead as it said on the marquee. There was a line that wrapped around. I drove by a few girls who waved at me. I would’ve thought new was a sent or something because it seemed that everyone stared my way when my car flew past them. There was drive-in diner that had the Beatles playing and I stopped in.

A girl on skates came up to my window before I had the chance to ring the bell.

“What can I get ya?” she smacked her gum and tapped the eraser of her pencil on the pad.

“I’ll have a hot fudge sundae.”

“Anything else?” she scribbled down my order.

I nodded no.

God this was different.

There was no drive-in in the city just a bunch of diners with booths that smelled like piss. The theaters were a lot bigger and there were a hell of a lot more people. A group of guys pushed each other out of the door from the diner. They’re all the same brand. Football players with cheerleader girlfriends. Probably flirting with them as they work.

They laughed as the door behind them opened.

“Thanks for the food, Betsy!” he yelled into the diner.

I straightened up in my seat, coming so close to the steering wheel I was practically eating it. He smiled and all I could see were white teeth. By now I couldn’t hear a word he was saying, but only noticed his full lips. His hair curled out in front of his forehead. It’s black, full and it looked soft. Definitely different then my brown boring straight hair. My features were harder than his. Without my control it looked like someone sucked me in the gut because I couldn’t help but frown all of the time.

“Who’s the new kid?” his voice finally kicked me out of my thoughts. “He’s been staring at us for a little while.”

See, a sent.

“Bail, we got to go or your dads gonna have a cow,” one of his friends yelled as he headed over to me.

“Let him cow it out. I’m gonna go say hi.”
I reached down, wanting to roll up my window before he got to me, but he beat me to the punch.

“Hi,” he smiled again. My mouth's corners lift a little a little, but it didn’t exactly reach a full smile. “You’re new, right.”

“Is there some kind of scent coming off of me or something?” I sniffed around, but I didn’t smell anything.

“It’s a small town.”

I tried not to look directly at him because I knew my eyes, and my mind. They won’t stop at just his face.

They’ll find every inch of his body.

“I’m Bail,” he reached into my window with his palm open and I took it.


“So, Rory, you want to hang out with me and the boys?” he asked pointing at his friends who stared at me. I ignored them for the most part. They seemed harmless enough, but it didn’t feel worth it to make friends. I’d slip up and we’d be packing up our bags again.

“What are you guys going to do?” Hanging out with them beat being at home though.

“We’re going to the Coves.”

“I’m actually waiting on a sundae.” It was my way of declining. Hoping that he’d get the hint and just let me enjoy a real desert and not the rhubarb pie Claire made for dinner.

“Don’t worry about it. Hal gets people who order and leave all the time.” Relentless. He rounded the front of my car, gave a signal to his friends and jumped into the passenger seat.

“I’ll show you the way.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t say anything. I was the weird silent kid who was probably going to get killed and nobody would miss. I see my waitress curse with my sundae in her hand.

We drove a few miles down the road. In a straight line until we reached a dirt road that he told me to turn onto. From the rearview mirror I see a pickup truck tailing us. His friends. Turning in I didn’t see a house so if I yelled no one would hear me. The road ends at a lake with huge cliffs surrounding it. Bail gets out and I start to panic. This was a kid my age. What could he do to me? Of course he had huge linebacker friends to help him.

Your overreacting, Rory.

His friends start wooing and start to undress down to their underwear. Bail did the same.

“You might want to get your first jumps in now before everyone gets here. They won’t let you get a turn.”

I took the keys out of the ignition and stuffed them into the pocket of my jeans so I didn’t lose them then do as the others had.

Standing at the top of the cliff, I could feel the breeze sweep by the hairs on my legs and make its way onto my bare chest. I’m not as nearly as fit as the other guys. I can hold my own if pit against one of them, but I’m smaller by far.

“You ready to dive, pretty boy?” Bail looked confident.

“I don’t know about this. It’s kind of high.” With my luck I’d hit one of the rocks on my way down.

“It’s really easy,” he said as I looked at the water below. I didn’t even notice how deep it was. “You…just…jump!”

He wrapped his arms around me and tossed both of us off the cliff. I hit the water hard and struggled to get through the foam we’ve created. The cold stopped my breathing and no matter how much I fought I couldn’t break the surface.

“He hasn’t come up,” I barely heard the guys yell.

I’m still trying to get to the top a pair of arms grabbed me and pulled me up.

“What happened?” Bail asked me. He was looking at me with those brown eyes. I swept a hand over my hair to get it out of my face.

“I can’t swim,” I admitted.

He laughed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought it was embarrassing.”

Neither Sarah nor I had the luxury to learn how. Mom didn’t have the time and dad was dead before she would let us hit the water.

“That would’ve been nice to know before I shoved you off. I could have killed you.”

Now is when I realized he still had his arms around me, keeping both of us up above the water. I don’t know what kind of guy has that strength. We’re so close.

I push him away and try to dog paddle to shore.

A few minutes later more kids arrive at the cove and I use that as camouflage to get out of there. I don’t bother slipping on my clothes. I can handle the summer air. My main priority is getting away from any guy like Bail. Any guy who had me questioning again. I wasn’t going to ruin this for Mom or Sarah.

“You going home?” he leaned on my door.

“Yeah, my mom is probably sending out a search party to find me.”

“Have you ever been pick-up racing?”


“Good, so I’ll pick you up at Pete and Claire’s around noon.”

“How did you know where I lived?”

He smirked, placing a hand on his hip and waving the other coolly. “Things get around this town fast. All I had to do was ask the right people. Every girl here”

I was the hot new thing to come to Blue Mountain.

“Noon. Don’t forget.”

I nod and drive away.

message 11: by Josée (new)

Josée (josee-ireadalot) | 45 comments Jo wrote: "I can’t think that way, though. I kept him from jumping today. He’s on his way to the hospital, and they’ll help him. Maybe they’ll make his parents understand how much he needs them to tell him he..."

I love your writing! So wonderfully touching. Thanks.

message 12: by Josée (new)

Josée (josee-ireadalot) | 45 comments ♥Julia wrote: "sometimes im cold
feel like a hundred years old
but you're always there for me.....

you whisper and you sigh
your eyes are bluer than the sky
and this is where i want to be......

the wate..."

Oh Julia. I don't always comment, but I always love your poems.

message 13: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments ♥Julia wrote: "sometimes im cold
feel like a hundred years old
but you're always there for me.....

Lovely emotions in that.

message 14: by Kaje (last edited Feb 18, 2014 11:10AM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments Horaida wrote: "Freeing Bail

Chapter 1

“We’re getting out of here, Rory,” Bail’s voice shook.

The cut on his eyebrow was still bleeding. The swelling of his lip was only just going down. I hated this. I hat..."

I like this!! - are you teasing us with "Chapter one"?

This was excellent, and I hope we see more, but clearly it could be long, so thanks for the first taste here :)

message 15: by Josée (new)

Josée (josee-ireadalot) | 45 comments Horaida wrote: "Freeing Bail

Chapter 1

“We’re getting out of here, Rory,” Bail’s voice shook.

The cut on his eyebrow was still bleeding. The swelling of his lip was only just going down. I hated this. I hat..."

Horaida: where's the following chapter? Can't wait to read it!

message 16: by Horaida (last edited Feb 19, 2014 06:14PM) (new)

Horaida Rodriguez (horaidalikdafri) | 43 comments Chapter 2

The next day I refused to get out of my room, hoping if I didn’t come out that Bail would just give up. But he’s still outside honking the horn of his pick-up.
Eventually Claire came into the room and yelled at me to go out and see my friend.

That was the problem. I wanted to see him.

This part of me was supposed to be left behind in New York.

When I finally make it outside the boys are sitting at the bed of the truck. Gary was hitting Ken and Donnie was trying to make sure he wasn’t the next target. The Chevy’s grill was dirty almost falling apart, but the clean body looked like it had just gotten a new coat of yellow paint. Bail stuck his head out of the window and pounded on the side of his door, his fingers reaching the top of the wheels.

“Shake a leg, pretty boy.”

I jumped into the seat by Bail.

“Where are we going today?” my frustration sparked mostly from my inability to look away from him.
From the moment I saw him walking through that door of Hal’s, I couldn’t stop staring.

We raced Bail’s Chevy against some other guys new Ford. I rode most of the time with my eyes closed and only knew who won when Bail slammed his fist against the steering wheel. The old thing never stood a chance.

It sputtered half way through the race and was overheated by the time we reached the end.
Bail wouldn’t stop swearing. It didn’t help that he and this other guy—Adam was his name—never saw eye-to-eye.

He drove me back to my house. The guys getting off at Hal’s for some shakes. There were too many things going through my head. We were alone. He was driving a little too slow and he looked so good in his new jeans.

I had to jump down from the truck because I wasn’t exactly coordinated enough to just step off.
With my luck I’d fall flat into the dirt. Hmm, but at least I wouldn’t have to be around him after that. He’d be too embarrassed to be seen with me.

I was about to close the door when Bail leaned over the leather seat and licked his lips. I want to be that tongue. I want to be that seat.

“You coming right?” he asked. I had no clue what he was talking about.

“Coming where?” Every day a new invitation. He squinted at me then reached onto the dash and handed me a piece of paper.

“It’s next Saturday. You should come.” The last sock-hop of the 1950’s. In as little as of five months we were going to be celebrating the new decade. The years were going so fast. It felt like yesterday that it was 1956 and I was just starting high school. Bail sat back behind his wheel. “If you’re worried about finding a date you can double with me and Carrie’s friend.”

Carrie. I had no words for Carrie, except—sweet, nice, beautiful and she had Bail.

“I’ll think about it.” In the last two days when had I ever gotten away with blowing him off?

“We’ll be here at seven.” Never.

The next morning, mom stared at me from the top of her coffee mug. I tried digging my face in my eggs and bacon, trying my best to ignore the analyzing green eyes. She wanted to ask me something. I was afraid what that question might’ve been.

“What kind of friends are these?” There it was.

Couldn’t I just have friends without the speculation, without the underlining?

“Just friends, mom. You wanted me to make friends who wouldn’t send me to hell or who I couldn’t condemn?”

She finished up the rest of her coffee. The lashes on her eyelids fluttered as she tried to register what I had said.

I complained about her. She thought I was going to hell, but god help me if I still loved her. She’s my mother. She gave birth to me, although I wish she hadn’t.

“I’m not sure I’m too happy with you spending so much time with those boys.” She unfolded the Blue Mountain Daily Express. The picture of a young man showing off two girls on either side of him had the headline “New clothes hit stores today” above it. I was envious, but not jealous. “Girls, you need to be around girls. A nice doll on your arm would make me happy.”

What about what would make me happy? There was no making me happy. All I was here for was to make my mother happy. Give her what she wanted.

“Can’t it kill you to befriend girls?” I heard her whisper.

I’ll try. And I would because the one thing that would kill me would be if Sarah found out exactly how disgusting her brother was. The kid she looked up to.

We’d played together up until I got too old to only want my sister as a friend. But she was still my best friend and this would only confuse her and I knew that’s what mom wanted to prevent. 

Mom dragged me along with her to do some errands. I knew it was to keep me from being at the house. To stop me from going out with Bail and the others. To stop me from corrupting more innocent boys.

Since the day I was born, she’d hug me every day. Tell me she loved me. Tell me that I was her sweet boy. But she hadn’t done that in months. Even when she looks at me, I know she sees some kind of monster.

“Rory,” Carrie’s voice came from behind us.

She and her friend were coming out of a small boutique with bags and smiling. The store had dresses and shoes displayed in the window. Nice dresses. Formal dresses.

I had met her the day at the coves. She’d come around dressed in a bathing suit with her red hair tied in a ponytail. She had freckles lining the brim of her nose and cheeks. Every time she smiled, the corners of her emerald eyes wrinkled.

Mom wanted me to have girls that were friends, well Carrie sure was.

“Oh, hello,” moms eyes shined when she spotted Carrie.

I felt my breathing become heavy.

“I’m Carrie.” She was also charming. Mom would love her, but thankfully she had already been taken. And knowing that was what was keeping me rooted to the ground. “Rory’s going to the sock-hop with me and my friend. My boyfriend’s also going to be there. Bail.”

I hadn’t told mom about the sock-hop. I wasn’t planning on going. I wanted to stay home and catch some tunes on my radio. To try and drown out every thought of male parts in my brain.

“That’s nice.” Now she was smiling. And I couldn’t come out and say no right there.

Carrie smacked herself lightly on the forehead. “Oh mighty me, where are my manners? Rory this is Anne, Anne this is Rory and his…”

“Mother,” mom answered, giving her hand to both of them.

“We don’t want to be rude, but we have dresses to try on,” Carrie and Anne lifted their bags at the same time.

“Of course. I’m glad Rory has made amazing friends in the short time.” I stood there, waiting for the earth to swallow me up or god to strike me down with lightning.

I wanted to be laying on the ground and mom crying that she had pushed me too hard to try and be like everyone else.

But it didn’t happen.

Carrie and Anne skipped off and mom couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day.

Even making me take a job at the Theater.

The popcorn machine was fighting with me again. It was the third time in the hour alone. The line of the concession stand outstretched to the ticket booth outside. My manager beside me—a kid two years younger than me yelled for me to get my act together.

What were my references for this job? My mother and Claire the town matriarch.

“Move it, odd ball.” My manager bumped me to the side.

“What can I get ya?” My hands marked the glass of the counter.

“Wow looking cool, daddy-o.” Glen passed a hand through his gelled black hair, the fabric of his leather jacket squeezed around his arms.

I looked ridiculous. The boat hat on my head squished down my hair around my forehead and there was no time in my life when I looked good in a striped shirt and pants.

Bail was behind them with his arm draped over Carrie’s shoulder. Definitely the perfect pairing, even their hands fit together.

“No need to get a job, pretty boy. I can give you all the bread you need.” Bail set his elbow on top of the counter. Finding the moment when my manager wasn’t listening in to speak again, “So Cat, how ‘bout you cut out and see the picture with us.”

“Rory, you fucked this machine up.”

Cut out and get my ear chewed out by mom or stay here and watch my youth disappear into the void?

I ditched the hat and decided I needed to live. So I draped my arm on Carrie’s other shoulder and split.

“Wooo!” There was a cloud of dust propelling out from the wheels of Bail’s truck. Bail kept pounding his hand on the side, begging for me to go faster. I turned the wheel, making eights in the dirt.

On the sidelines Carrie and the guys were cheering. It was one of those times that I wished I didn’t have to go back.

I slammed my foot on the breaks, launching both me and Bail forward and back.

“Shit, it’s my old man.” The grill of the truck lightly tapped the cop. His brown uniform was covered in dirt from the knees down. His right hand kept clipping and unclipping the gun holster. He rounded the front of the truck, reached into Bail’s side and forced him to the ground.

The first kick didn’t look real. I thought he had been kicking aside some dirt or a rock. When the boys made a move to help Bail and his dad threatened them with the gun, I finally clued in.

“Get into the car,” he snarled, lifting Bail by one arm, keeping the gun on us. He pushed him into the back seat, like he was a modern day criminal instead of his son.

All I caught was the slight terror in Bail when he turned around to watch us get smaller and smaller as the car drove farther away.

message 17: by Horaida (last edited Feb 19, 2014 05:13PM) (new)

Horaida Rodriguez (horaidalikdafri) | 43 comments Chapter 3

For the next week I sat watching the T’V and clock on the wall in the kitchen. Every hour that ticked away meant it was closer to Saturday. I didn’t want to go through with this. What if Anne wanted to sneak off to make out or do more? I couldn’t refuse because that would seem odd. Hopefully she was more conservative and all she wanted was to go dancing.

I didn’t even know if Bail would show up. The cove had become quiet. The few times I drove down to it there was no one there.

The guys hadn’t seen him for a few days either. At Hal’s they’d claimed a booth. I knew they would be there, bothering Betsy—the dish waitress, who gave them free shakes and food despite the protests of her father.

No Bail.

Saturday night mom and Claire kept fixing my tie.

“I knew it’d fit,” Claire said.

Paul gave me the suit he had used the day he and Claire got married. He was my age then, around the same size and it was the only suit in the house because I didn’t give mom enough notice to buy me something decent.

I’d wanted to go in one of my trousers and shirts. Mom said no because Anne was going to show up dressed nicely.

I cringed when I heard the horn of Bail’s truck. I’d felt like vomiting when mom and Claire insisted Anne come inside so that they could get a good look at us. But I didn’t let that happen.

“Can I go with you?” Sarah asked, leaning her chin on her hand.

“Sorry, but this isn’t your kind of bash, Little Monster.” She put on a sour face, but this was another thing I couldn’t let her tag along on.

Bail honked the horn a few more times.

“He’s in a hurry.” Mom didn’t like him. She didn’t know him. She knew he had a girl. But she still didn’t like him. Claire losing a smidge of her reputation was reason enough. I wasn’t getting my job back at the theater. I couldn’t have been happier.

It was a drag. And I didn’t want to spend my last summer before college handing out popcorn and soda pop.

I kissed all three of them on the cheek and made my way to the porch.

I gave my tie a right fixing and hoped this night would go quick, squeezing myself into the truck’s cab next to Anne.

There was no sign of the bruise on Bail’s face. Not that I expected there to be. He’d stayed away long enough for it to heal. He didn’t seem different.
Still cool, still loud and still made me fear every bone in my body that gave in to his smile.

The high school gym was decorated with white and blue balloons, some streamers and Little Richard’s tutti frutti could be heard from the parking lot.

It was different seeing the guys out of their jeans and t-shirts. Their dark hair wasn’t gelled up and they had the company of a few girls I saw the first day at the cove.

“Let’s get down,” Anne said, pulling me onto the dance floor with Carrie and Bail close behind.

Fast dances were easy. Rock songs had no touching. I could fling my arms in the air and be completely comfortable with that. But as we got to the floor The End of The World started playing.

I hesitated. I didn’t know where my hands were supposed to go or if I was supposed to jump in and grab her. My hands shook for a few seconds, but Anne moved in closer and wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands lay on her waist. I could feel my heart beating.

Behind her I saw Bail encourage me to dance. He buried his mouth into Carrie’s neck, but kept his eyes on me.

It felt like we had been dancing with each other, but having the girls between us kept us safe. It wasn’t right for two guys to want to dance with each other. It wasn’t right for me to want to dance with another guy.

Before I knew it—just as my body started to move with the music—the song was over.

“We’re going to hit the ladies’ room,” Carrie grabbed Anne’s hand.

Why was it okay for them to do that?

“How ‘bout a butt?” he opened his jacket and revealed a pack of cigarettes.

Smoking had never been my thing, but sitting in the bed of Bail’s truck with him made the coughing and burn less horrifying.

He was a pro. And we were certainly not the only ones out there. Girls went to the bathroom together and boys went together to fill their lungs with smoke.

“Anne is digging you.” Bail poked me in the ribs with his elbow.

“Anne’s alright.” I tell him. She’s not you.

“Don’t you think she’s a doll?”

I didn’t know how to answer that right. Not without making me sound like I wanted her badly or sounding like girls weren’t for me.

“She’s a doll.” I said. It wasn’t a lie. Anne was pretty. Blonde, filled and she should have felt right.

I looked over at Bail. He took another drag of his cigarette. His lips wrapped around the filter tightly and firm. That’s another object I’d gladly replace for a day.

Something in my brain didn’t work right. That’s what the doctors and psychiatrists had said when my straightening out didn’t work. The wires weren’t connected. Mom started to sound more like them.

I don’t know what made me do it.

As his lips came into a full pucker to blow out the smoke, I pressed my lips onto his. My eyes were clamped shut. He was going to punch me.

I hadn’t realized he was kissing me back until I felt his hand come up to my back.

“What the hell?” Our lips smacked when I pulled away to see Gary, Ken and Donnie eyeballing us. “I’m going to pound you.”

I jumped out of the bed and started running.

I didn’t know where I would go. Going back would mean I’d get beat up. Going home would mean moms “how was it” and I couldn’t tell her. Of course there was the chance that they would show up and mom was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

So for now, running to nowhere sounded the best.

message 18: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments And it heats up - thanks for the installment...

message 19: by Kaje (last edited May 25, 2014 07:50PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments Gone

Are useless, feeble things
Winging, just air, and lost upon the wind.
Well, words were never my skill anyhow.

Can touch your hands now
But even your long arms cannot cross states.
And mine are not as strong, or long, or sure.

May still beat together
Mine pounds against your ear, yours shakes my palm.
But mine will leave my chest soon, when you go.

was ours to share for years
My thoughts, my love, my life was bound with yours.
It will be hard to hold on here alone.

The best years of our life?
Well yeah, until they rip them, uncaring
Then youth is just a word for powerless

Falls slow and yet too fast
We could just sit here as the darkness falls
Deny the day as if it will not come.

Look into mine, so blue,
I know each fleck, each light, each sideways glance
In all your moods, I see love in your eyes.

Are all we have left now
Yours to me, mine to you, finger-pricked blood
Part of us stays with the other, always

Go now and don't look back
But know, as you leave, this is not the end
I'll wait for our next kiss, while you are gone.

message 20: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Gone

Are useless, feeble things
Winging, just air, and lost upon the wind.
Well, words were never my skill anyhow.

Can touch your hands now
But even your long arms cannot cross states..."

I like the structure, flow and direction of the poem. I also like the various idioms and metaphors created in the process of letting go.

message 21: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments I was feeling guilty at missing the month, because I try to get them all :) But I like messing about with poetry, although it's not my forte.

message 22: by Darren (last edited Oct 08, 2016 01:47PM) (new)

Darren (dwite) | 359 comments DREAM

What did you try to do?
I walked
You walked?
I walked
You cannot walk
It was a dream, and when I dream
I walk, I do, did not forget
I still have legs so strong

Where is your chair?
Over there

He waves, he is not really here
I hold him tightly and I fear
his dreams, his nightmares every time
He is still dreaming, it seems

What did you want to do?
You swam?
I swam
You cannot swim
I swam, it was a dream, the stream was strong.
My strokes were powerful and long,
I need to get there, need to get there....

I take his chair.

I bring him back and I am sad
I want him in my bed
Not here, in mental hospital
This gentle loving man

Will you come back to me?
I will
Promise you come back to me?
I will
I wait for you, come back to me?
I always will, you are my home.
I'm growing strong again, it won't take long.
I dream my way to you

And then you smile and kiss me warm
I cry silently in your arms and say goodbye
Tomorrow I am here with you
I always do, till you come home

message 23: by Mel (new)

Mel (melleach) Darren wrote: "DREAM

What did you try to do?
I walked
You walked?
I walked
You cannot walk
It was a dream, and when I dream
I walk, I do, did not forget
I still have legs so strong
Where is your chair?

Beautiful, Darren.

message 24: by Jason (new)

Jason (jason_williams) | 732 comments Darren wrote: "DREAM

What did you try to do?
I walked
You walked?
I walked
You cannot walk
It was a dream, and when I dream
I walk, I do, did not forget
I still have legs so strong
Where is your chair?

OMGosh Darren. OMGosh. That was absolutely beautiful, I'm just speechless. Thank you. <3

message 25: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16562 comments Lovely Darren, thank you!

message 26: by Darren (new)

Darren (dwite) | 359 comments Mel, Kaje and Jason, thank you :)

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