I guess I have to put this here: WARNING! This story contains strong language and violence.
Note from the author: This chapter was longer, I wanted to have at least 90% of the characters show on this chapter, but I had to cut it short for other reasons. I will try to get the rest of it up soon.
If you are confused by the strange style of story telling read this GUIDE first.
Thanks for reading guys. 😉
There is a place where I only exist in the infinite space of the blue.
I’m captive in the invisible current that from it’s eye is born, and float pathless in eternity.
Escaping is impossible.
Some times the current is my friend, and pushes me upward; the idea enters my mind, and I’m thrilled.
But, the world outside is alien to me.
I collapse, and fall;
I fall timelessly in the abyss.
In that place where I only exist in the infinite space of the blue.
“That stupid dream again.”
“What the fuck does it means?”
“Ugh. Never mind.”
“I need to get laid. That’s what.”
“My life sucks.”
“Holy shit! That’s the time?”
This has been my life ever since I moved to this forsaken place.
I have no parents.
They died in a car accident two years ago.
That’s when I was sent to live here with my mother’s younger sister and her son, Tommy.
My aunt. Only she is not my real aunt.
“Wake up prince. Time for school.”
“Five more minutes Jensen.”
“No. Wake up! NOW!”
“This is some kind of abuse.”
“Hurry up and come downstairs.”
My parent’s weren’t my real parents either.
“I’ll stay all day with you…”
“Oh Charles. That’s sweet of you, but I have to open the shop. Besides, you know the deal.”
“Just the night. I know.”
“What’s for breakfast? Eggs again? Boring!”
I thought it would be just another foster home. You never know what you’ll get so why hold any expectations?
“Your flowers are so beautiful. They’re thriving!”
“Are these wild orchids?”
I was just going to be here until I reach adulthood -which will be in a year- you know… kill time before I’m thrown into the wild.
“I raise them myself.”
“Hurry up Tommy, go brush your teeth. We’ll be late for school!”
“Remember I have to go to the dentist today.”
“I don’t want to go. Can we skip it and tell mom they were closed?”
“Are you afraid Prince?”
“It’s not funny. Julian had a swollen cheek for two days when he went there. Do they really have construction tools? Like a hammer looking thing…”
“More like destruction tools…”
“I hope my husband loves these orchids just as much as he loves looking at the lace in your bedroom curtains.”
“My bedroom curtains is not what he stares at all night. I can assure you of that.
“Excuse me. I have to see my son off to school.”
“Jensen get back here!”
“I’m sorry Jensen. I think I might have left the toilet seat up.”
“Don’t be upset at mom. It’s all my fault.”
“Don’t worry kiddo. Go on to school.”
“I’ll hold the bus for you. I’ll make them wait.”
“I’ll walk fast. Don’t you worry. Pick you at 4? Dentist!”
I guess it’s like that; like when you go to the dentist for the first time.
You’re waiting in the lobby before you face the inevitable, and you know what will happen -others have told you- but still, you’re afraid. So you pick up a magazine but you aren’t really reading it, you’re just browsing through it. Making the awkward moment pass, because you really don’t belong there, sitting in the lobby, surrounded by strangers that feel compelled to be your friend for that moment.
They tell you their stories, but is all very alien to you; until it isn’t. It becomes a part of your life.
“If there is anything I did wrong. I apologize in advance. It won’t happen again. Now if that’s all…”
“Cut the crap.
“I know you hate my guts. I guess it’s only fair since I can’t stand the sight of you.”
“What do you want then?”
“You’re getting a part-time as of today.”
“But I already help at the shop. Do the house chores. When will I do my school work?”
“I’m sure you’ll find time for that.”
“Isn’t there enough clients? At night?”
“I don’t have to explain my reasons to you. But, in this case it’s something you need to know.
“Julian is coming to live with us tomorrow. The auditions haven’t gone well. He needs support. Anyway, this also means your house chores doubles.”
“Have you ever thought to be grateful I don’t call the cops on you for child abuse?”
“That should be enough payment for me staying here.”
“Have you ever thought I don’t have to have you here? I don’t have to care for a child that isn’t my own.
“But it’s the least I can do for my sister. Still, I’m not raising a stranger for free; this isn’t a Goddamn foster home.”
“You start work today. I told my friend you’ll help her at the book store. She paid in advance. Understand?”
And the person talking to you is not a stranger anymore; he is the good husband with a guilty conscience; he is the proud grandpa, he is the reliable son.
Even the furniture starts to look familiar;
the creases on the windowsill, that seemed to have been there for ages;
the hideous wallpaper with the flowers, or keys, or wholes -I don’t really know anymore, but it now looks comforting just for that moment;
a distraction from your grim reality, because you know what will happen when your turn comes, but you have never experienced it before, and you are afraid.
So you pick up that magazine again, and hope that it would take your mind off of what you’re really feeling;
“Ahh. It stopped raining.”
It’s a scary feeling.
The feeling of not belonging, but only existing in that moment.