Prologue
An eighteen year old Charlie sat on the side of his bed holding his head in his hands. He was an emotional mess, crying and laughing in turn. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was alive. God, how could he go on. In the next room he could hear the racket the old bed made as his parents pounded each other with the violence of their love making. If, indeed, making love was what they were practicing.
He wasn't sure, most times, whether it was sex or two people using each other's bodies for small relief and lustful vengeance. If they weren't drunk they were fucking, and as soon as they finished fucking they started drinking. They couldn't get enough of each other if they were sober before sex, but after sex they hated each other. Talk about a fucked up life and here he was right in the middle. Of course, he was the reason they hated each other.
His parents were relatively short with brown hair and eyes, and had rather dark skin. He in contrast was 6' 5" in his stocking feet with the reddest hair anyone had ever seen and blue eyes. Yes, he also had that fair skin that burned so badly and the freckles. God, the freckles. All over his body and that included his cock. Since he had lived here his whole life, everyone knew him and his red hair. If his folks had only moved somewhere else so he could change his hair color, the teasing and name calling might not have been so bad.
Of course, the main problem was that nobody in town looked like him. Nobody knew where his genes had come from. His mother maintained it was recessive genes from an uncle on her father's side. His father was convinced that she had cheated with a 'carny' when the circus came to town and he'd been stuck raising some fucker's bastard kid.
Whether it was true or not, Charlie ended up as the object of scorn and derision and he became a target for his parent's endless emotional wars. They didn't know who he was, just what he represented in their pathetic lives.
Charlie had graduated from high school today and they hadn't shown up for the event. Big deal, they never showed up anywhere. He arrived home to find the ubiquitous brown bag with a few unopened bottles of booze still sitting on the table. Judging from the noise in the bedroom, they had been at it for quite a while. He wanted to get to his room before they finished. He hated that angry time between sexual satiation and the end of the first bottle. That's when the 'Ronald McDonald' comments started. They both hated him, their only son.
Most of the time they were still somewhat lucid during the first bottle, but once they started on the second bottle it eased up a little bit. They had trouble being coherent until they passed out. He didn't know who they hated more at that point, him or each other.
He came home tonight because it was necessary. Just another one of those things on his to do list. He'd really hoped they would be in a drunken stupor when he arrived. Well, he could wait a little longer. He was going to put a stop to all the misery, both theirs and his. He was leaving for school in Batesburg. He'd managed to get himself enrolled early without them knowing. He knew he was never coming back. His clothes and personal stuff that he wanted were at Benny's house. He'd been secretly moving them for the last month or so. He didn't take everything, it wouldn't look right if he did.
He noticed that the noise had peaked and had started to lessen. 'They must be finishing up,' he thought. 'Now it's my turn to finish them.' First he dressed in one of his mother's full aprons from the kitchen and tied it in the back. After pulling the latex gloves on, he stood up and retrieved a gun from under his pillow. It had been cleaned, loaded, and wiped down. He slipped off the safety and headed towards his parent's room.
He walked to the side of the bed and looked down on them laying there in their smelly body fluids. Surprisingly he didn't feel a thing. He felt emotionally numb and empty. He raised the gun and two shots rang out. First to go was his mother, one shot to the head. His dad recoiled from the noise and the splatter, but he didn't hear the next one. It went in his temple before he could react. When Charlie finished, he placed the gun in his dad's hand and wrapped his dad's fingers around the grip. He stepped back while taking off his gloves. Blood splattered the walls and soaked the bed. Not a lot of anything touched the white apron. Perfect. Dad shot mom, then turned the weapon on himself. The police would believe what they wanted to see.
Going back to the other room, he took a full bottle of scotch from the bag and, after opening it, took it in and set it on the nightstand. Then he put the apron and gloves into the bag with the other bottles of booze and walked out the door. He stayed in the alleys on the way to Benny's house. He opened various garbage cans and disposed of the gloves and apron first, then started disrobing and disposing of his clothes. Never more than one piece of clothing in a can and never two cans together. He wanted the evidence dispersed as widely as possible. He arrived at the back of Benny's house and deposited his boxers in the can. He slipped into the house naked and headed to the shower. He knew he wouldn't be able to get the gunpowder residue completely off his hands, but he still tried to wash the stink off of his body. He would never be able to wash the stain from his soul.
Eventually the authorities would find him at Benny's house and inform him of their recent demise. Then he just had to go to a double funeral and leave town. It would be different in the future, and he was never coming back.
Chapter 1
Two years later Charlie had managed to maintain a 3.4 GPA while taking some pretty tough classes. He'd been lucky when he found a nice two-bedroom apartment about a mile from the school in a relatively quiet neighborhood. He saved his money instead of spending it on a car and insurance. Walking to school was also some good exercise for him. He managed to separate his school life from his home life and had a relatively easy time staying away from most of the other students. He considered most of them assholes, anyway.
At the start of the third year at school, Charlie was in a couple of classes with a woman named Helen. She was a semester or two behind him. He was fascinated by her quick wit and her relatively easy grasp of the material. He asked around and found out she was in a study group, so he decided to join it one evening. A couple of the other students knew him and his high GPA, so they asked him to stay. He wouldn't say that working in the study group was a real fun time for him since he turned out to be more of a tutor for the others, but he did get to hang around with Helen.
It was after about a month after he joined the group that he was working on one of his papers. The rest of the group had packed up to go home, but he was tweaking this paper a bit. Since the topic was one of the few easy ones available, he thought he'd push it extra hard to pull in the easy grade. He finished up and put the paper in his bag while looking around. The only one left was Helen and she was just sitting there, watching him.
"Hey you."
"Hey yourself."
"I thought you'd be gone with the others," he said.
"I was, but I went back over my paper. I have to get those easy grades when I'm able to, you know?" she replied.
"Yeah, sure. I figured you would be gone by now, seeing as how you are a married woman and have a long trip home," he stated. He was watching her eyes while he talked. She just looked steadily back at him. 'Was this a dare of some sort?' he wondered. "Well, if you don't have to go home right now, how about giving a needy student a lift home? It is only a few blocks from here and not out of your way."
"Sure. Get your stuff and let's go."
The drive was quiet except for Charlie telling her where to turn and then pointed out his building. Charlie could feel some tension in the air, so he thought he'd take a chance.
"Want to come in for a minute?" he queried.
She sat for a moment, not answering. Then she turned the engine off and smiled at him. That said it all. He walked her up to his door, unlocked it and ushered her inside. He dropped his coat on the chair, his backpack on the floor next to it and motioned for her to sit down.
He went towards the bathroom and said, "I'll be right back. Put your stuff anywhere."
She slipped off her coat and her backpack. Her stomach was full of butterflies and her mind was in turmoil. 'What the hell am I doing?' she thought. 'Marty is waiting for me to come home and I'm in some man's apartment. For what? Why?'
Just then Charlie reentered the room. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered. "I have some sodas or some water if you like."
"A glass of water I think," she replied. "I seem to have a dry throat and I wouldn't want to get sick. It would be a waste to learn how to prevent disease and then get sick because I didn't use the information they gave me."
He nodded and returned with two glasses of water. They sat across from each other, saying nothing and taking the occasional sip. He was sitting in the easy chair and she was sitting on one end of the couch. Abruptly, as though he had made a decision, he drank down the rest of his water. He set the glass on the table, stood up, and walked over to the couch. She hadn't said a word, but set her glass down when he moved. He held his hand out to her. She looked at it for a moment, then took it and stood up. He put his arms around her and kissed her gently on the lips. She kissed back, at first tentatively, and then harder as the passion kicked in for both of them. At the end of the kiss, he leaned back from her a bit.