Violence Begets...
Read Violence Begets... Online
Authors: Pt Denys,Myra Shelley
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Fiction, #Gay, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Genre Fiction
Thanks and love to my amazing partner and
love of my life for listening to me obsess about these characters for the past thirteen
years. Schmunchkin for the strength, courage and love she has brought to our home—laboo!
Myra, my editor, for her attention to detail and amazing insight. Ruth for inspiring
my return to writing. Melissa for beginning the story and Katie for being there
from start to finish. Jae Jay, Pagan, DJ, Dan and Tony for their time and feedback.
Diane, Mary, and Cassie for their amazing proofreading skills. Josh for brainstorming
and my family for always putting love first. And most importantly, to every child
and adult who has suffered pain at the hands of another—there is always a choice.
Dirk’s bar smelled like a fucking casino,
like a goddamn stale ashtray. I sat at the back in my usual spot, slouched on a
barstool at a high table between the pool tables and the john. I waited. It wasn’t
long— it never was—before a guy approached me. He could’ve been twenty or forty
years old, fuck if I cared.
Years ago, the differences between them
had started to fade and this one was just one in an unremarkable string looking
to get lucky. He paused in front of me. I cocked an eyebrow. He nodded subtly and
disappeared. I smashed out my smoke, knocked back a shot of Wild Turkey and followed
him. The dented and faded bathroom stall locked behind me as his hands grabbed my
ass, pulling me towards him.
“What’s it you’re lookin’ for?” I hummed
into his neck.
“The usual.”
I expertly snapped open the button on
his jeans, pulling them down slightly as I crouched in front of him and went to
work. I knew I only had to get a few more guys off to get the money I needed. With
my good looks and talent, it wouldn’t take long. Shit, most guys at Dirk’s dreamed
about someone like me, and it wasn’t often they got the opportunity to make their
dreams come true. The man above me fisted his hand into my charcoal-black hair,
yanking hard and thrusting as he came.
I
stood slowly, taking my time meeting his gaze as his eyes took me in hungrily. I
let him linger on my chiseled features and athletic body in a long-sleeved, tight
black shirt—always black. I had it going on, pure muscle that came from fighting,
not lanky and skinny like most guys my age, and an ass that made men cream themselves.
God, even I’d pay for the opportunity to be with me, and I didn’t pay for shit.
I offered him a half smile and a shy look to close the deal.
Like taking candy
from a baby,
I thought as I left to rope in my next trick.
Rick
Blood
covered everything. I could see a crumpled body lying on the street…
... Flashing red light colored the dark
sky. I looked into the face of a young paramedic.
“Where’s Jason?”
“Son, do you remember what happened?”
I tried to understand him but couldn’t.
I blinked several times before I finally pushed out the questions racing through
my head. “Where is he? Where’s my brother? Where’s Jason?” Something wasn’t right.
“Was there anyone else in the car with
you?” he asked in response.
“Jason.
He was with me. What’s going on?”…
…Waking in the hospital. Someone said
my dad and Sylvia were on their way…
…A silhouetted figure stood in the doorway;
head hanging, my dad didn’t enter the room…
“What happened? Where am I? Where’s
Jason?” Why wouldn’t anyone tell me what was going on? …
…. Days later, the sun felt hot on my
face and my black suit jacket absorbed the heat. I could feel the sweat dripping
down my back as I stared at the thick blades of grass between my dress shoes. High
school girls I didn’t know cried hysterically around me. I didn’t cry…
Jolting awake, my eyes fought to adjust
to the darkness. I rubbed at them, trying to make sense of my surroundings. There
wasn’t anything on the walls and there were boxes everywhere. As recognition settled
in, I curled back into my blankets, gripped the pillow to my chest, and rolled over,
letting the tears come.
At just after four in the morning, I
gave up on getting back to sleep, buried my head in my pillow and tried in vain
to stop the tears from coming. I squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to block out
the bloody images, but my mind kept throwing memories of Jason at me, and as the
tears tore to the surface
I scolded myself harshly. No amount of tears would
bring him back. I battled until the sweet sound of the alarm cut through my torment.
Although I dreaded starting a new school, it was better than what the night held
for me.
I lay in bed listening to Sylvia help
Emma get ready for her first day of second grade. I knew my stepmom would be leaving
early to drop her off at her new private school before heading in to work at the
hospital. I hoped Emma would like school but was sure she’d let me know if she didn’t.
I smiled slightly thinking about her. She was the only thing that really made me
smile anymore. After they left, I knew it was time for me to get going for the day.
Of course, I tripped over the corner of a box that hadn’t fully been unpacked yet,
stubbing my toe as I made my way to the bathroom.
As my dad got ready for work, I could
hear him moving about the kitchen. The smell of bacon, coffee, and cigarette smoke
filled the air. For the briefest second, I wondered if he’d made me breakfast like
Jason used to do, but threw that idea out as fast as it’d occurred to me. Despite
the new house, things weren’t going to change.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and the
red and gray t-shirt my brother had gotten me for Christmas in ninth grade. He had
enjoyed shopping to buy me clothes—either that or he knew the mall was a good place
to pick up girls. Since he wasn’t around anymore and I was never much of a shopper,
I was stuck with clothes that were several years old.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” my dad
asked accusingly as I walked into the kitchen, like he didn’t know.
“Didn’t sleep well,” I replied, embarrassed
that the swelling and redness were so easily noticed. He didn’t look so hot himself.
I was surprised to find him still home but not surprised to find no breakfast waiting
for me.
He glanced at me uncomfortably. “Have
you seen my keys?” he asked distractedly as he put his dishes next to the sink.
“I think they’re by the box of books
in the front entryway.”
“Make sure these are cleaned up before
you go to school,” he said, glancing at his dishes as he hurriedly made his way
towards the door. I heard him grab his keys and make a quick exit. As usual, he
couldn’t get away from me fast enough, but his silence stayed behind. I sat at the
empty kitchen table, glancing at the unpacked boxes surrounding me. I knew this
house would never be my home. As I glared at the vacant walls, I wondered what Jason
would’ve thought of our new digs. He probably would’ve thought the house was pretty
cool. He'd thought everything was pretty cool.
After rinsing my dad’s dishes and putting
them in the dishwasher, I grabbed a too-wet rag and wiped down the counter, noticing
the streaks it left behind. Heading out, my stomach growled as the door shut behind
me. Jason had always cooked breakfast for the both of us.
I’d walked the route to school the night
before so I wouldn’t get lost and be late. I tried not to notice everyone walking
around me with their new clothes and their old friends. After the accident I'd pushed
away most of my California friends, so leaving there hadn’t been terribly hard,
but still, the thought of not knowing anyone made my stomach turn with anxiety.
I passed house after house with perfectly manicured lawns and sprawling driveways.
My new neighborhood was much nicer than the one in California. I’d overheard my
dad and Sylvia talking about a better housing market in Utah, and I guess that meant
we could afford a bigger house.
I approached the school from the back
entrance, weaving my way through the parking lot full of Jeeps and Mercedes. It
seemed the cars of my new classmates were just as nice as the houses in my neighborhood.
Good thing I won’t be driving anytime soon
, I thought. I’d hate to imagine
the snide remarks about the kind of car I’d likely be given the opportunity to drive.
Taking a deep breath to still the slight
shaking of my hand, I opened the door to start my first day as a junior in my new
high school.
All things considered, by the end of
the day I had concluded that it could’ve gone worse. I was only late to three classes,
but I didn’t fall down with a lunch tray in front of everyone or some mess like
that, partly because I never found the cafeteria. I did learn that when asking for
directions and someone says turn left at the end of the hall, they’re full of it.
The school was a maze of circles, a figure eight within another eight, and there
were no “end of the hall” turnoffs, just a tangle of curves.
Emma, always the sunshine in my day,
barged into my bedroom as soon as she and my dad arrived home that night.
“Hey schmunchkin!” I said, laughing
as she threw her arms around my neck. “How was your first day of school?”
As she prattled on about all the things
that thrill and excite a seven-year-old, I smiled and watched the light dance in
her eyes.
“Sounds like you had quite the adventure!
And daycare after school? Do you think you'll like it there? Make any friends?”
I asked, experiencing a silent pang of jealousy for her easily found joy, even though
I was thrilled she was getting along so well.
“Yeah, I love it there! There’s a girl
named Melanie, she tripped right in front of me and I gave her some gummy bears
and she’s my best friend,” she said quickly, fitting it all in one breath.
“That sounds great.” And before I could
get out another thought, she was skipping off down the hall to her room to get lost
in some new toy dad and Sylvia had bought. Shutting the door behind her, I thanked
whatever god was out there for at least letting me have her in my life.
The next day at school was an improvement
over my first day. I made it to lunch on time but realized immediately that I was
going to have to sit alone to eat. As I found an abandoned table in the back of
the room, I was sure every single person looked at me at least once, trying to guess
what the new loner’s story was. I could handle the laughter I saw on their faces,
but the pity for me—the guy without any friends—reminded me of the looks I used
to get in California, and it made me want to close my eyes and scream. I put my
earphones in, cranked up Zeppelin and ducked my head, wishing I could just run away.
As bad as things were at school, I began
to prefer the isolation there to the tension at home. At least during the day I
could disappear and drift through the crowds of people. Sylvia had pretty much made
it clear she didn’t love being a stepmom from the moment she'd married my dad eight
years ago, so nothing was new with her. However, my dad’s avoidance and disgust
with me were rising to nearly unbearable levels.
I'd developed a routine of playing video
games in the front room before he got home. After Jason died, I had stopped doing
much of anything for months, including eating. By the time a year had passed, however,
I’d finally somewhat gotten my appetite back, but because my dad seemed to like
it better when I avoided meals with the family, I typically fixed myself something
to eat right before he got home. As soon as I heard the garage door, I’d escape
to my bedroom for homework, which always included welcome interruptions from Emma
with reports about her day.
Just like in California, I thankfully
didn’t see much of Sylvia. She typically kept long hours at the hospital as a neurosurgeon.
And now, with my dad’s increased avoidance, I was able to spend more time on my
homework. I’d always been a good student. My sophomore year had been really hard,
but the teachers at my school in California understood what I was going through.
I didn’t want my new teachers to take pity on me, so I planned on working twice
as hard to stay on top of things.
I was working on a history report about
the assassination of Lincoln, and as I stared at the flashing cursor on the blank
page, it reminded me of my empty life—no words or thoughts to fill it up and make
it complete. I could hear my dad downstairs, cooking dinner for him and Emma, cracking
a beer, and settling in to watch a game. In the beginning she had always begged
me to join them, but had eventually given up as I had withdrawn into my world without
Jason. I plugged both of my earphones in to distract myself from their presence
downstairs.
After long, stressful days as some sort
of VP at American Express, my dad kept his distance. It wasn’t unusual to find him
with a Miller Lite and a cigarette in hand, and whatever sport was in season turned
up loud on the TV. While he was zoned out and Sylvia was at the hospital, Emma and
I began to unpack as much as we could each night. We started with my room and moved
through the rest of the house until we had all the boxes unpacked and even a few
paintings hung on the wall.
Even with the familiarity of our old
stuff around us, I still fell asleep as tears were swallowed by my pillow. If my
nightmares didn’t wake me up, my dad’s always did. Between the haunting of Jason
and the daytime loneliness, I felt myself being swallowed by the pain, and I found
that I really didn’t care.
In a rare show of mother-like caring,
Sylvia knocked on my door one night during my second week of our new routine. After
slipping in, she asked how I liked my new school.
Hesitantly, I replied, “I guess it’s
okay.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. We could
all use a fresh start, I think.”
“Yeah,” I nodded, not sure what else
to say to her.
“And your classes are going well so
far?”
“So far.”
“Make any new friends yet?”
“Yeah, a few,” I lied.
“Good. So, I think we’re going to watch
a movie tonight as a family, and Emma would love it if you joined us. Interested?”
I looked at my homework, knowing everything
I needed for the next day was already done. “Yeah, I guess,” I said, looking back
to her. “Just give me a minute to wrap things up and I’ll be right down.”
“Great.” She smiled easily at me, something
she didn’t do often. “I’ll see you in a few.”
After
packing up my schoolbag, I made my way downstairs to watch a movie with my family.
It may have been the first movie we’d watched together since my dad and Sylvia had
gotten married, and I wondered if things might really turn around like they hoped.
Shit, I’d much rather be fucking someone
at Club Normandy than here at school. I smiled, remembering the hot guy I’d gone
home with the night before school started. Man, he’d so been worth a hangover on
the first day.
I picked at my food on the lunch tray,
disgusted with the meat (that couldn’t possibly be meat) covered in clumpy gravy.
I glared at the guys sitting next to me; they thought they were my friends but I
didn’t have any friends. Mike, Brett and Jeremy were talking bullshit about whatever
girls they were pretending to have fucked. They didn’t have the balls to fuck anyone,
so I tuned them out. I was so over all of it, yet still had two fucking years left!
I was scanning the room, aware as always
of potential threats, when I noticed him walk through the double doors—not a threat
by any means. I’d been watching him since the first day of school. He seemed insecure,
distracted, and utterly hopeless. It hadn’t taken me long to place him with the
moving van that had come and gone around the corner from my house. New kid with
no friends. I knew he’d be a perfect addition.
I watched as he walked into the cafeteria.
The short blonde hair cropped close to his forehead made his eyes stand out against
light skin with a spattering of freckles across his cheeks. His blue eyes were almost
always swollen and red, I guessed from crying, which would make my job easier. The
weak ones were always quick to follow. He carried himself hesitantly and awkwardly,
sat alone and ate very little. He never looked around or smiled at anyone. He came,
he ate, and he disappeared.
I knew he’d be my next target, and I
felt confident he’d be an easy one. Jeremy, Mike and Brett had long since been initiated
as my so-called friends and were stable. They followed my rules and didn’t push
me. This was how I’d trained them, but I was bored. I needed to exercise my talents,
my ability to focus and control.
If I waited too long to approach him
he might find a better offer. Only a couple of weeks into the new school year and
I could see he was drowning. I had to throw him a lifejacket before someone else
beat me to the punch. If he had other options, he might not be desperate enough
to fall in line with me. I could offer him a lot, but I demanded much in return.
As usual, I paced myself along with
the guys on the short walk home from school. I’d intentionally waited until the
new kid left, making sure we were close behind. He walked slowly, with his eyes
to the ground. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d seen the inside of a locker
a time or two. He was so far gone that he didn’t even look over his shoulder every
now and then. I almost fucking shit myself when two guys walked past him, elbowing
him out of the way. Since he hadn’t seen them coming he stumbled to the ground,
his belongings scattering around him. I couldn’t have planned it better. Mike, Brett
and Jeremy immediately started laughing and mocking him.