This is a continuation of my novel. I'm sorry it took so long to get it on here. It's going to take even longer to get the next piece on. I'm sorry in advance for any grammatical, spelling or punctuation issues as I still have yet to be able to get an editor to contact me. As with before, all sexual actions take place by eighteen year old adults. For those who have been looking for sex, it finally comes into play in this addition. There are some problems with time in this one, so I know there will be complaints on that. But, I still want to hear your thoughts, no matter how bad you think it is. Comments are a writer's best friend. Thanks in advance.
Chapter 9
My aunt and uncle were pretty cool people, and man could my aunt cook. I'm pretty sure I will never have a meal quite as good as the one she made us. We started talking, and she begged to know what happened, from my mouth and not the news.
So I told her what happened. I told her everything, emphasizing on my lack of ability to do anything to help my mother. They said it wasn't my fault, just as everyone before them had...maybe...maybe they were right, maybe I couldn't have done anything else to help my mother. I mean, I did ride my bike as fast as I could have. I didn't ever know I shouldn't have gone out that day, I mean, how could I?
Maybe having family to care about and care for me wouldn't be such a bad thing. I'd been avoiding anything that could hurt me for so long...maybe I should try opening up and letting people in. I looked up at my aunt and uncle...over to my cousins. "Umm...there's something I should tell you, if my mother had known, she would want me to tell you. I haven't told anyone...only my friend knows."
They look at me expectantly, as if I could say anything and they would accept it. So I pull up my sleeves and bare my arms to them. They were shocked, but they didn't run screaming. My aunt looked at me, "What happened?"
"Well, after my dad died...I found his knives. Everything started getting rough from there on out. I couldn't do anything right by my mother. She was always upset at me for getting into fights. I just wish I had told her why. I was always a good kid, but when they made fun of her...when they insulted her, I lost it.
"So, when I found the knives and one slipped and cut my arm...I had clarity through the pain. It eased the emotional strain of life...pushed it away. I regret it, every day I regret doing it, but at the time I thought it helped. I let my mother down...if she knew what I had done...she...she would hate me," I say, steadily getting towards a whisper.
"She would never hate you. You are her son. She would always love you, no matter what. I should know...I'm a mother too. It's just something that comes with giving birth," she said to me.
I looked at her...fighting back tears threatening to spill over. "Thank you ma'am, that means a lot to me.
When I got home I was actually starting to feel better about myself. I may not have been totally self-depreciating since my mother died, but I had been self-destructive, hurting myself more and more, pushing people away. Maybe it was time for me to come out of my shell and see the world around me in a different light.
It was only nine o'clock when I got home, but I had school the next day and I felt emotionally drained. I decided I'd better go ahead and get some sleep. Brady and his dad were already home. "Where have you been?" Mr. Thompson asked, concerned.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it was a last minute thing. Stephanie called, wanted me to go meet her parents. My aunt and uncle are pretty cool," I say.
"Your aunt and uncle?" he questions.
"Oh, yes sir. I forgot I didn't tell you. When Brady and I went out on that double date, I went to see Stephanie before hand. We started talking about ourselves and we figured out that her mom was my mother's half sister. We're related. So she called me today to go over and meet the family."
"So does that mean you will be leaving us," he asks a hint of sadness in his voice. "You'll probably want to live with your family, right?"
"If it's alright with you, I'd rather stay." I look around, not seeing Brady in the room, I continue, "Brady won't say it, but I can tell he's still upset about his brother. I've always wanted one so, it works out great, if that's ok?"
"Of course it is, son. You've really grown on me and I like having you around, and not just because you're a big help fixing all the appliances," he chuckles.
I look up at him. It hit me that every since my dad died, I'd been without a father figure, and I'd been trying to fill a void that was just not wanting to be filled. Now...now it was being filled and I actually liked it. This man, he was everything a kid could want in a father, without actually being a father. He'd stepped up and taken me in, even though he didn't have to. Something wet trickled down my cheek. I reached up, it was a tear...again.
"Thank you, sir. That means the world to me." I hug him, the first time I had done such a thing since my mother had died.
I slept peacefully that night, yet still didn't want to get up when my alarm chimed. Monday...a school day, I got up and got a shower. Brady was just getting up as I stepped out of the bathroom. He went in as I went to get something to eat. After we had both eaten and were ready, we drove to school to meet coach. Brady has been working out with me in the mornings since I had told him about what coach wanted me to do.
As we arrived, Coach opened the door and we walked in. We ran and did weight lifting today, then of course; I kept learning more of the plays. "Dylan, you're almost done learning the plays. After tomorrow, you can start getting here a half hour later, and just work out. We only have a couple of plays left."
"Okay Coach. Thanks, this has been a great help. I think I might actually be able to remember all the plays and what everyone does in them," I say.
The school day passes quickly, though with a lot of homework. School let out and I headed straight for my car, the books I'd need for homework already packed away in my bag. I was working on the other side of town, at a new house. When I got there, Mr. Collins immediately put me to work doing the usual digging of holes and hauling dirt. I still did not mind since it helped me stay in shape even while doing workouts in the morning. This was more like endurance conditioning I guess. It seems like the best way to describe it.