Another slow burn, more story than action,I have tried to better with grammar and spelling, but no editors have responded so its still just me and Grammarly.
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As a family, we had hit a major speed bump on the road of life, Well that was how my father had so eloquently explained it to me in a brief letter that fateful day when everything changed. We as a family had always been fairly well off apparently, me not so much as I was and always had been penniless and I was now suddenly being moved from the Military Academy to a local Community College in a place I'd never lived.
I wasn't so much bothered by the actual leaving of the Military Academy, as it was attending Community College somewhere I had never lived. I had never actually wanted to attend Military Academy no that was my Stepmothers idea, I'd like to think for my educational well-being, but I knew the woman just hated me. Hated me for being a bastard son of her husband which had come to light when my actual mother dumped me with them at the age of five!
Again I'd like to think my mother had done it for my wellbeing, but she had a new man in her life who hated the sight of me and I'd lasted three months until he had given her the ultimatum of him or me. So yes I had abandonment issues, in my case pertinent ones, because although my father took responsibility for his one night, apparently drunken stand with the maid at a hotel he'd stayed in once, My Stepmother did not!
No, she had me shipped off to Military Academy the day the paternity test proved my heritage, leaving me a confused five-year-old boy, whose ass had just been bounced out of two homes marked unwanted. Well, let's just say that opened the door to a few years of torment because when one is stamped with the unwanted marker, he is not left very high on confidence.
Luckily for me a kindly old janitor had taken pity on me and helped me plan out a new and much-needed strategy for survival, he'd also allowed me to hide out in the now unused, old music block. The following years saw me excel in swimming, cycling, and weightlifting. Although the endurance aspects of the first two, ensured while becoming very fit and strong, I didn't become Hercules, we then added in some fighting forms over the years, such as Boxing and Taekwondo anything to stop me from getting beat up quite so much.
This did lead to me becoming more of an all-rounder, capable of surviving the challenges of Military school hell a lot easier than I had been say, at the tender age of five!
Being a geek hadn't made me more popular in the testosterone-filled hallways, but it had made me happier. I loved computer science far more than the strategies of the battlefield, which in my mind would have absolutely no impact on my future self because there was no way in hell I was joining up.
So I spent all my spare time either reading, teaching myself yet more about computers or if I was sure I was alone, writing songs and singing them. It was so therapeutic to my soul, that even the abject terror of my peers finding out, couldn't prevent me from practising it.
The abandoned music department consisted basically of brass army marching bands, but one day I found an old but serviceable guitar in the very dusty forgotten equipment. I was far enough away from the mainstream hiding here to be able to strum away to my heart's content. A quick trip to the library had yielded a teach yourself to play the guitar book and that was indeed just that.
Even in the years that followed, I'd still hideaway in that old abandoned music room and just play the songs I'd heard on the radio. It was hardly groundbreaking but I was a dab hand at rock and roll as well as country classics, Later moving on to a love of rock music.
It was like I had been hit by lightning, the first time I heard Hotel California by the Eagles as well as others like Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival, A Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd to name but a few of my favourites.
Music was a tonic to my tortured, unwanted soul, I couldn't say I did it off the girls because they terrified me, the formal twice-yearly dances were simply just that formal forms of torture. None of them showed any interest in me whatsoever and I couldn't really blame them, as to do so would only invite shame and scorn upon yourself. One poor sweet beautiful girl had tried, the following torment she, well we received was atrocious and never to be repeated. Although I often thought of her sweet, sweet beautiful face and her incredible rack, well in my mind it had grown nicely over the lonely years.
So when I was removed from my classes one fateful day due to my dear father, whom I'd only met that once, being unable to pay the tuition it did come as a bit of a shock.
The family as a whole had removed their selves from society to regroup, retreating to various hideaways, the family home out on the Californian coast, where they had a sizeable mansion waiting to receive them, was to be a last resort. Unfortunately, the downsizing included most of the staff, which happily for me anyway left a few rooms available for the unwanted, unexpected bastard son.
I had been enrolled/dumped into the local community college because it was free, the official daughter of the family was still going to Brown University, and some things could not be sacrificed. Whereas I was well aware that if organ donation/sales were legal I'd have been cut up and sold at the drop of a hat.