A twist in a twist

Please comment. Posting next part soon.

 

Chp. Two. Cont. #5

“Are you gay Thomas?” I asked in a deadly whisper.

Thomas looked like he was ready to cry his eyes out. He didn’t say a word just turned and ran towards the stairs to go to my room. I was quicker than him so I grabbed his arm before he had gotten more than a few meters away.

“Stop it!” I yelled, “why are you running away?”
By this time my parents were already standing at the kitchen door just watching us. Watching Thomas with a look of pity.

Again a few seconds passed, it seemed like forever to me.

“You’re going to hate me! You’re going to hate me! You’re going to hate me! You’re going to hate me like my parents! You’re going to hate me! You’re going to hate me because I’m a fag!” Thomas screamed. The words as quick as they were said, burnt a hole in my heart and I had to rest my hand on a chair to support myself.

“What do you mean?” I whispered.
“See! What do I mean? I mean that I am a fag that’s what I mean!” Thomas screamed again.
“No, I don’t mean that! I mean, why would I hate you?” I said without much energy. I gripped the chair really hard hoping I wouldn’t fall over. I was getting a massive headache. It seemed my words had gotten Thomas to think because he didn’t scream anymore but talked in a more natural voice.
“What I mean is, don’t you hate me because I’m gay?”
“Why would I hate you? I have never hated you nor will I ever hate you!” I replied genuinely with a hint of sadness trailing at the end.

“I’m a fag, no one likes me!” Thomas said quietly this time. His head was bowed and looking straight at the ground. With the mix of emotions inside me I didn’t know how to respond. To be frank, I didn’t know what to say. As I thought about the words that Thomas had said anger flooded inside of me.

“Hey Thomas, listen to me. Look at me!” I lifted Thomas’ head up with my hand and looked him straight in the eye.

“I will admit that I am very surprised that you’re gay and I don’t know what to say really. However, what I can tell you is that it doesn’t matter if you like guys or girls. We’ve been friends for lots of years now. You were one of the guys that befriended me when I first moved down here in grade four. We’ve been through so much and I don’t want to loose you.

“You’re wrong man, I don’t hate you. I will never hate you. I might hate you if you steal my cookies but I won’t hate you because of your sexuality. I mean you’re like a brother to me. I love you as a brother man. I don’t care what people think. If they give you crap because you like guys I will knock their teeth out.”

I looked at my friend in the eye and in that moment I could see his emotion subside and our friendship was restored.

That was probably the major event of that year. The next few weeks that passed, passed in a breeze. My parents persuaded Thomas’ parents to let him come back into the house and treat him in a mutual way. And of course I did my bit by persuading Thomas to actually go back into his house. Persuading Thomas to go home was the hard part. Could you blame the guy though? He was literally kicked out of his house for something that he obviously didn’t have a choice in.

I mean, homosexuality isn’t a choice is it? Isn’t homosexuality something that is inbuilt into you? Something that you are born with? Isn’t it? Isn’t it the same thing as a guy going all crazy over a girl, but instead of the girl there is another guy...?

I exhaled deeply. I had gone into one of my long tangents and self-examination.

I was lost in thought when I heard the bell ring for the conclusion of homegroup. Thomas was always the first to stand up. He is always in a rush to get out. If you followed him to where he went you will probably have nightmares for a week.

Don’t tell him I told you, he goes behind the bins in the far field to make out with his boyfriend. I mean, don’t they do that stuff at his boyfriends house? Do they really have to do it at school as well? I have to admit, we haven’t spent as much time together as we use to. I am jealous and angry at his boyfriend for taking my friend away.

I exhaled in anger and mumbled inaudible words to myself.

I stood up and followed Thomas out of the class room to go to first period.

The first two periods believe it or not was quite material intent and in no time at all recess came. I always dread the first day of school. I always have an interesting conversation with Alexander.

To be continued.

 

Will be posting new part soon. Sorry guys. Being eating to much over Christmas.

 

Chap. Two. Cont. #6

Alexander pointed to the arm chair in front of his desk as I walked in. Last one I thought, last meeting with Alexander. I pulled the chair out and sat down.

“Let’s make this quick and short Mr. Lockett. I don’t want to have this talk as much as you don’t. Every year we say the same thing. All I need you to do is sign this piece of paper to tell me you won’t be a nuisance whilst you are in my school and you won’t do anything to disrupt the smooth running of this institution. Therefore, I ask that you keep your love-life at home and do not in anyway create a scene that may cause the council or any government body to give me a headache.

“Finally, there is a new kid in school today. Stay away from him. He just moved here and new. He has already had enough trouble in his life. I don’t want you and your group to mess with him. So stay clear away. Do you understand?”

At this point Alexander looked into my eyes and licked his upper lip with his tongue.

“Do you understand?” he asked again when I didn’t answer.
“Yes,” I replied with a shrug.
“Sign here and you can go,” he pointed to the place where I needed to sign. As I was getting up to leave he said in rushed words.
“Oh and have a good year, study hard Mr. Lockett.”

I walked out of Alexander’s office feeling very happy. I was smiling, the meeting had been quick and easy. I shrugged and moved through the crowds of people in the corridors to exit the school building onto the grass areas. With any luck I can eat my snack in peace.

The rest of the day passed without much drama. As I was finishing off my last question on complex numbers my stomach, like other parts of my body, had a mind of its own. It started to grumble like hell was breaking loose. It was loud and long. If you haven’t guessed it yet the whole class pretty much erupted into laughter. I knew I shouldn’t have only eaten a piece of toast and an omelette for breakfast. Damn, now I’m hungry and red as a tomato. I just gave the class the biggest grin I could muster and went back to the maths question at hand.

As the bell rang to signal the last food break of the day the situation at hand finally dawned on me. I am going to have to give Fletcher a wedgie. My mind was racing. I didn’t want to do it, so I can just say no? I didn’t have much time to think about it. Without really thinking about it, I had walked myself to my locker and packed my books away.

A tap on the back of my shoulder broke me away from my trance. It was Kris.

“Dude everyone is waiting. Tony figure out where his locker is. So the group during recess thought that we could give him the wedgie in front of his locker.

Everyone is waiting near his locker. Follow me.”

Kris motioned me to follow him. It really surprised me at how close our lockers. We turned a corner and I could see the kid down the corridor opening his locker.

With military precisions the group started to walk towards Fletcher. We formed a V shape. We just stood about a meter behind him. It was like the hawk preparing to pounce. From his body movements Fletcher probably knew that we were behind him. Some small snickering started here and there amongst the group. I walked forward. Yes, his white brief strap was out a little. I don’t have to stuff my hand down his jocks.

I edged closer. I was so close now that I could smell his cologne. I wasn’t quite sure what it was but if we ever become friends I got to ask him what he uses. It smells amazing. I reached out and grabbed the waistband. I could sense that he had felt the contact. And I ripped the briefs straight up.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t yell. I knew it hurt like hell though. I could feel his pain in my veins it was radiating, it was scary. The sort of pain you feel when you feel so much pain that you cannot make any sounds. That was the sort of pain that he was feeling.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four seconds. Five seconds. That’s a reasonable amount of wedgie time isn’t it? I let him go. His feet were about half a meter of the ground when I let him go. He just landed with a plump with his back facing me.

“Did that hurt you, new kid?” I asked. I tried not to laugh but the way he looked as he turned to face me made me giggle a little. The kid was staring at me, but his eyes weren’t focused. It was the same expression that I did when I daydream. Wow, daydreaming when you’re getting bullied, that’s amazing.

“Hey! James is speaking to you!” Kris shouted from the back. The kid now adverted his gaze towards the ground. He looked so vulnerable.

Don’t ask me why I did it and you probably already know. My left foot just sprang out and bang it made contact with the kid’s face. To make matters worst, I think when James the Bully is activated nothing can stop him. I gathered a nice blob of saliva and spat it towards the kid’s face.

Laughter erupted. Started by my group and escalating all over the corridor.

“Answer my question!” I yelled over the roar of laughter, “did it hurt you asshole?”

I bent down and grabbed his chin and looked him in the eye. There was fear in his eyes. There was hatred. There was anger.

A circle formed around us. The crowd looked very excited. They wanted more. They wanted me to give this kid a good bashing. They wanted it. I will give it to them. These little souls so easily manipulated.

I swang my hand back, ready for to give him a blow to the nose. Before I had made contact with my target a hand or should I say a person stopped me. John Bolt. It’s always him trying to make me look stupid.

“Get lost James” Bolt said calmly.
“What the hell do you want Bolt” I spat angrily, “this is no one of your problem, get lost!”
“Fletcher is my friend James. Just leave him a lone and…” Bolt started but I cut him off.
“No, get the hell out of here before I kick your ass to!” I screamed.
“This thing doesn’t belong here, he doesn’t belong anywhere in this district even. Why do you…” This time Bolt cut me off.
“James, I am not going to argue with you. Leave the poor guy alone!”

I didn’t reply. I just stared at him. Then the reality of the matter hit me. The normal James returned. Did I just give the kid a wedgie? Oh, his name is Fletcher. Crap, I kicked Fletcher in the nose! I spat on him! No, no, no! Why did I do that? And I called him a thing. Fuck! I’m such an idiot! Why? The reality of the matter like most things in my life was to much for me. I broke the stare off with Bolt.

“Whatever just make sure he doesn’t mess with me.”

I turned and marched off. I had a fake smile on but my heart was agonising in pain. I’m going to regret this day. I know it.


End of Chapter Two.

 

Chapter Three: Thursday the 16th
Fletcher

Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap. Tap.

I groaned. The alarm clock on the side of my bed told me it was only 12 past 6 in the morning.

Tap.
Tap.
Tap.

I stared in the direction of the sound.

Tap.

That stupid bird again. For the last few days it’s been tapping on my window.
“Thank you very much Mr Bird but I already have a bloody alarm clock! I don’t need you to wake me up at six in the morning!” I screamed at the bird.

I gave the bird a long stare. Nothing.

I shook my head at it in a last attempt at making it feel bad about waking me up so early.

“Stupid bird,” I mumbled.
What am I going to do now? I thought to myself.

I walked over to the mirror on my wardrobe door. The guy that stood in front of me was horrid, ugly and disgusting. Hair messed up, shirt covered in drool and more rings under my eyes than rings on Saturn.

I really didn’t like the person that was staring at me. I never really liked him anyway so it shouldn’t have worried me at all. But it did. That was what was worrying me. Everything that I thought I knew about life and about my life has been turned on it’s head and shook about. The migraines came and went, and came and went, and came and went, and came and went, and the most recently one hasn’t left yet.

Don’t be mistaken, besides the very first day. School has been better than ever. James and his crew didn’t really interact with John and his crew and by association didn’t bully me.

The fact that James and his crew didn’t annoy me for the last two days was probably the culprit of the indefinite number of migraines I’ve been having. At my previous school everyday of the week, every day of the year, every hour, minute and second of the bloody year was hell for me.

His name was Alam. He was the school bully at my old school. He bullied me for three year until I moved to this new school. I experienced everything from having my lunch money stolen to getting regular wedgie. It got to a point where if I didn’t receive a wedgie it didn’t feel right.

You could imagine the turmoil in my head. No one has been giving me crap, no bully. Maybe he is on holiday? No wait, I’ve seen him a few times making out with his girlfriend in the yard. It was the same girl that had smiled at me that first day when James tripped me. So that means James has been here. Then why hasn’t he done anything to me? Why?

I exhaled. I’ve had enough. Couldn’t really think anymore.

Why did I wake up so early again? Oh yeah! That bastard bird! I looked back towards the window to see that the stupid bird was still there and it was still tapping that bloody window. God dammit! Why the hell! Maybe James sent this bird to annoy me?

I looked at my side table. It read 6:45. It was at least another good half an hour before I am meant to get out of bed.

I went back to my bed and sat on the side. The soft feel of the blankets made me feel slightly better of myself. It was simple sheeting, blue coloured with a grid of red lines. It was the same sheets as the one in my dream that night.

The dreams that I’ve been having lately have been quite weird. Sometimes they made sense to me but most of the time they made zero sense to me. The most recent dream was one of those that made no sense to me.

I was standing in the driveway of my house. I was waiting for something.

A blue car pulled into the side of the street opposite my house. I stared into the car to see a silhouette looking straight at me. The white eyes were cold and harsh. I must have known who that person was because I walked towards the car and went straight to the passenger seat and got in.

Once in the car I did not look at the driver. From what I could see, I knew the driver well. He was speaking to me but it wasn’t a voice that I could recognise. It was muffled and it didn’t really make any sense. Then my mouth opened. We started to argue.

And that’s when I woke up from my dream. The next thing I remember was the tapping from the bird.

To be continued.

 

Hey Guys. I will keep writing thanks for the feedback.

I've just been a little sick lately.

 

Chp. Three. Cont. #2

“Mum!” I yelled across the hallway.
“What?!” was my mother’s reply while preparing breakfast.
“Have you seen my sport’s shorts? I swear I left it on my desk last night. I dunno where it’s vanished to!”

I have always wondered how I could be such a messy person considering the circumstances that I was in. I was a loner, no friends (well maybe a few now – just maybe), all I do is play computer games, program programs, eat and sleep. So, it is within reason to think that I would have a lot of time on why hands and putting two and two together my room shouldn’t look like the way it did. If you were to sum up my room in one word it would be ‘messy’.

In fact, it is so messy once or twice I’ve woken up and stepped on something hard that made my foot throb for weeks. The culprit was general a piece of electronics that I’ve left scattered in my room amongst my clothes and ready for someone to step on.

After a few minutes of careful rummaging through the piles of clothes and being careful as to not touch anything dirty I managed to find my school sport’s shirt and shorts. It was crinkled and slightly smelly but who would care. After all the sports we were apparently supposed to be doing it would be getting quite sweaty anyway.

I had overheard John complaining to Albert on yesterday morning while I was walking to my locker.

“Man, I hate the first day of sports class!” John sulked.
“Yeah bro, I agree. I hate how he makes every do that stupid Beep Test and then we have to wrestle with each other. It’s so bloody gay. I feel like a faggot man.” Albert said in reply.
“Yeah, I agree! I swear that Turner guy is gay! Last year while we were wrestling he tried to…”

At this point John and Albert had walked out of earshot and had turned the corner leaving me near my locker feeling awkward and scared. I wasn’t an athlete. I’ve never heard of the Beep Test and I’ve definitely never wrestle anyone nor do I think I would be any good at it.

I sighed. I gave my neck a stretch and then my arms and my back. I don’t think any amount of stretching today will save me from what is to come. That is, hell.

As I approached the kitchen I noticed that mum was swearing. My mother of 43 is an amazing woman. Strong, brave and still have the complexion of a 30 year old. However, you could see that all those years of looking after me. The complex childhood I had and all the pain I had caused her was taking its toll. Although she looked young her body was not.

“Ma, is your back playing up again?” I asked as I took a plate from cupboard and pouring myself some orange juice. “Do you want some juice?”
“No thanks honey and yes it is. I was just lifting the pancake pan off the stove and I heard a crack. I think it is a good crack though because my back didn’t feel like someone was ripping my breasts off. I think I will need to go and see the chiropractor today. I missed my appointment on Monday so I will have to go today.”

And that was it. Mum continued her life story about her bad back. Once you start her you couldn’t stop her if you tried. I just made sounds and occasional nods here and there to indicate that I was listening, but only just.

Mum put a stack of pancakes onto my plate.
‘Umm,’ I thought. The only thing that made me feel remotely normal and possible kept me sane was eating pancakes for breakfast. My mum knew I loved pancakes and so if you were to raid our pantry don’t be surprise to see not one but two bags of 25kg bags of flour.

My mum was one of those old women who liked to raid the catalogues for any good ‘sales’. To me it just seemed the supermarkets were just making a way to scam the old folks. Who in their right mind would buy three bags of carrots at 15kg each? Apparently anyone who wanted the ‘buy two, get one free’ offer. For crying out loud how on earth were you going to finish 45kg of carrots? And by the way that’s about 100 pounds of carrot for you other folks.

I remembered it as if it were yesterday when mum came home with 3 massive bags of carrots in the car. The thing that annoyed me was how proud she was to score such a good ‘deal’.

This was our menu for two weeks. No joke.
We ate, carrot cake pancakes for breakfast, carrot chips dipped in carrot sauce for lunch, carrot soup and carrot casserole for dinner and to top it all off carrot cake for dinner!

Thinking about it gave me such a headache. I am so glad now that we are eating normal again. I think my mum realised her mistake as well. I didn’t see an ounce of carrot in the fridge for about a month.

I dropped the fork and started to clench my head. Instantly my mum was next to me rubbing the back of my head and caressing my back.

“Headache?” she asked in a calm and gentle tone.
“Yeah,” I replied quietly, “I dunno what cause it but I can definitely say that it wasn’t because of the carrots.”

Mum gave me a gentle slap across my back.
“You cheeky boy” she said. I smiled crept across her face. It turned into a grin then sounds appeared. She was laughing now.
“Okay, I get it 45kg of carrots was a big mistake! But hey, we got to try something new.”
“Yes we did, yes we did. For two weeks” I replied.
“I think I’m going to buy 45kg of potatoes next Fletcher!” My eyes lit up at these words.
“To make 45kg of French fries?” I asked hopefully.
“Nope,” my mum said simply. “45kg of mash potatoes.”
“Ew!” I protested. I hated mash potatoes.

Mum was laughing now. I loved it when she laughed. It made my existence the ever more important. It made me thankful at all those unsuccessful suicidal attempts.

I threw a small piece of pancake at her. She dodged it.

“Now, now, don’t play with you food. Hurry up and eat. You will be late for school.”

To be continued.

 

Thank you guys I will definitely keep going. If you post a comment here I will inform you when the next update is. 

Love you all.