"I will not have that kind of language or that kind of behavior in this home ever again young man! Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Jonah replied as the tears streaked down his face.
"How dare you even breach that subject," his mother continued to shout at him.
Jonah began to reply, but was cut short by a blinding left hand across his face that sent him sprawling to the ground.
"Get up you little dirty pervert," she bellowed.
Jonah did as he was told; only to receive another slap to his face knocking him to the ground once more. However, before he had a chance to stand up again, his mother planted her left foot squarely in his ribs, causing him to gasp for air. He tried to scream out in pain, but couldn't get a sound to come out; since he wasn't able to scream, his mother just continued her assault until she thought she had inflicted enough punishment.
Tears streamed down his face as he looked his mother in the eye. He knew from past experience that if he took his eyes away from her, that he would get beaten even harder.
"You will return to your quarters, where you will stay and think about what you have done. I do not want to hear so much as a sound out of you for the rest of the weekend. I can't believe you would even think to ask such a vile question of me. You have no idea what proper decorum is; and I will not have an offspring such as you think to be improper in my presence."
"Make no misconception about this," She continued with venom in her voice, "You are a mistake that I regret more and more each day. If your father had not died I would have pawned you off on him. He was just as worthless as you are. Leave! Now!"
"I'm sorry Mother, I mean Ma'am," he corrected himself as he got an evil glare from the towering presence in front of him. "I didn't mean to offend you."
She cut him off before he had another chance to speak by saying, "I don't care to listen to you whimper and whine. I want you to leave this room and go to your quarters. And wash yourself; you are beginning to cause an unpleasant odor."
Jonah turned away and started to walk down the hallway; his mother kicked him in his butt, causing him to fall into the wall. As the tears continued to pour down his face, he slowly made the walk into his quarters where he started to cry uncontrollably.
With the door shut, Jonah looked into the mirror and saw a confused eleven year old, pale faced, tear streaked, and he almost didn't recognize he was looking at himself.
"Why, God?" Jonah said quietly enough to not be heard outside his room. "Why does she have to be like this? What's wrong with me? I try to be good, but she hates me. Why?"
He started to undress, and with his shirt off he looked at the damage that Ma'am had done. The welts that covered his chest and side were starting to take form and turn purple. It hurt so bad to even breathe as he continued to take off his clothes. As he took of his pants, he saw the same welts starting to rise on his legs, but he didn't remember her kicking him there. Next he took off his boxers, and stood naked in front of the mirror. Now he could see the very cause of his current predicament. The reason for the punishment that he had just taken was staring him right back from the mirror. Three hairs. He had asked Ma'am about the changes he was going through and had told her that he had grown three hairs down there. He hadn't realized that it was a bad thing to ask a parent about these kinds of things, but now realized that it was something that he wasn't supposed to talk about. Maybe if he pulled the hairs out, things would get back to normal, maybe she would love him.
As Jonah stepped under the water in the shower he tried to remember if there had ever been a time when he was happy. His mind raced back to a time 5 years ago when as a little boy he and his mom and dad were running through the waves at the beach. Jonah stopped and picked up a starfish and his mom took him to the ground and tickled him silly. Four days later, as they were headed back home. his dad was killed by a stray bullet from a drive by when they stopped for gas.
As the memory faded the tears started again as Jonah realized that there was nobody who loved him anymore and nobody that he could talk to.
Jonah had thought about running away, or even killing himself, but hadn't mustered up the courage to try either thing. He still kept thinking that somehow and someway he was going to be loved again. He believed that somewhere out there, there would be happiness for him, if he could only hold out that long.
Jonah calmed down, and finally began to do the washing that he had set out to do. As he cleaned his private parts, the inevitable happened. He just stared down at the erection and cried to himself, "You're the reason that this is happening. Why do you have to be different?"
Jonah did everything he could think of to make it go down, but the more he concentrated on it, the harder it got.
Jonah finally finished his shower and started to dry off. He looked at himself again in the mirror and thought; maybe she hates me because I'm ugly. No, that can't be right, I don't look that bad.
Jonah looked deep into the mirror in his eyes. He had his dad's eyes, deep blue. His eyes were almost black like onyx or dark sapphires. Only his dad's eyes had a shine to them, while Jonah's looked flat. He had the same color hair as Ma'am – sandy brown that he kept in a bowl cut, very short on the sides and long on the top, almost coming down to his eyes in the front. His skin was kind of light in color and at four feet ten inches; Jonah was about in the middle of his class in height.
As he stood there staring at himself and the bruises Jonah started to daydream about what it would be like to find a new family and maybe a few friends. Maybe even a brother to talk to at night when he was lonely. His daydreams were always similar – The brother was like a twin and they could both sense each other's feelings. It almost seemed real this time. Maybe ... Just maybe.
After about fifteen minutes of being out in the ozone, Jonah shook himself back to reality and started to get into his pajamas to get ready for bed. He looked over at the clock on his desk and saw that it was only half past eight, so he decided to write in his journal some.
She hit me again today. I'm not sure how many times, but I have a lot of new bruises. I don't bother to count anymore. All that does for me is make sadder than I already am. I'm not sure why I am writing about this in my journal today. It's not like anyone would ever be able to do anything about it. My mother hates me. I know that is true. I hate her too. Why should I bother to try and love her back, when all she does is hit me? Tonight she wouldn't even let me have dinner. I guess I'm glad I snuck those crackers in here the other night, or else I wouldn't have anything to eat at all.
Today's fight started when I went to ask her questions. I have been getting hard all the time and starting to grow a few hairs down there. When I asked she looked like I had dumped cold water down her back, then she got really mean and started slapping me telling me I was a dirty little pervert.
Maybe if she would have signed the permission slip 2 months ago for me to go through the "life education course" at school I would know more, but when I asked her to do that she slammed her bedroom door in my face and didn't talk to me for almost a week, other than to tell me to do the dishes at night.
I keep praying everyday that someone will come and take me away. I would even be happier on a different planet. I have to believe that somewhere there is a place where I can go and be happy.
I almost had a good day in school today. A new kid came into our class from a different state and sat next to me in class. His name is Max and he seemed nice, but at recess some of the other kids pulled him away from me talking to him and after the bell he asked Mrs. Thompson to move him to a different desk, so I guess he thinks I am a weirdo too.
Mrs. Thompson tried to talk to me after school today, but I just walked out of the class so I could walk home. I'm sure that will get me sent to the principal's office on Monday – Yay ... Another reason for my mother to hit me.
Does it hurt to die? It can't hurt as much as it does to live. What does it feel like to have a family?
I caught myself daydreaming again today about having a family and a brother. It seems like when I have these dreams I am kind of happy for a few minutes. But I know they aren't real. The only thing that is real right now is the bruise on my check and the tears.
God, I hate life.
Jonah looked at the picture on the front of his journal. A picture of outer space; as he looked he started to cry again. Not a cry of pain, but one where you just feel empty inside. As the tears splattered on the cover of his journal Jonah made up his mind that soon there would be nothing left to cry about. Not that Ma'am would even cry if he were gone.
Jonah put up his journal and walked over to his bed. The picture of him and his dad when he learned to ride a bike looked back at him from his nightstand. "I wish you were here, daddy," Jonah said to the picture.
For whatever reason, Jonah decided to pray. As he knelt by his bedside he started to pour his heart out. "Father in heaven, I am sorry for being such a bad kid. I'm sorry for thinking bad thoughts all the time. I just want to feel like I am worth something. I just want to feel love. I know it sounds stupid, but even a hug would be good. If you really are out there, can you please just help me? Make her love me again maybe, or help me find someone who will. I see all the other kids in school who are so happy. I want that. I want to feel love. Please? Please answer my prayer. Amen
Jonah crawled into bed and started to cry again. That was all he ever did at night. Cry himself to sleep. As sleep finally came to him, he felt like he was drifting away. To where he was going, he had no idea. All he could do is hope that where ever it was he wouldn't have to hurt anymore. Hopefully there was love to be found there. A kid can dream, can't he?
Jonah opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings. He didn't seem to recognize anything except for what, or who, was lying on the bed in front of him. As he looked closer he saw ... Himself? Or was it? It looked a lot like him, but different somehow. This kid had a smile in his eyes, and a different kind of glow. As he continued to stare at the boy in front of him he started to become nervous. He knew that the boy could see him staring at him. He wanted to say something but couldn't get the sound to come out of his mouth. He wanted to run, but he was stuck to the floor like someone had chained him there.
As he continued to stare at the kid in front of him he felt like he was looking in a mirror. Finally the other kid stood up and started walking toward him. Jonah wanted so bad to be able to run but knew he couldn't move. As he got closer the boy spoke to him in what strangely sounded like his own voice.
"Jonah, don't be scared, I'm Josiah."
Josiah reached out and put his hand on Jonah's shoulder and he actually felt it. You can't feel in dreams can you?
Hello Everyone – Long time no see ;)
This story has been something that has been brewing in my mind for some time and I am honestly having an easier time writing this one than working on some others right now. I know it has been some time since I have been active, and I beg your forgiveness. Life can sometimes throw a curveball at you, which is what happened for me. I got caught up in life and forgot to take time for myself and the things (and people) that I love.
This story is not one that will go on forever and ever – it will have an ending of some sort. There have been no secret negotiations to pawn the characters from this one onto the CSU. Been there, done that (read A New Day Dawns if you have no clue what I am talking about) and after that ride that I took with ACFan, I can honestly say that both he and I are a little bit grayer for it – AC more than me, but he is an old fart :P
For right now I just want to enjoy writing again and see where it takes me. I hope you like the beginning of this one, and I promise that I will be continuing it. I can't leave it where it is now, that might even be considered a cliffhanger, albeit a soft one! But hey .. Soft porn is still porn, so a soft cliffhanger can still get me in trouble.
To those out there that have been around since the beginning, it's good to see you again and to be back. To those I haven't met yet – Howdy! Feel free to shoot me an email at GunRunner@cornercafe.us (I think it still works)
Welcome back, Gun!
I really like the way this story is going so far; I am looking forward to seeing more of it. This is an awesome start to what should be another classic tale from the pen of GunRunner.
Oh, by the way, while I acknowledge that you are an expert on farts GR, I believe you are mistaken in classifying me as one! :P
Looking forward to more!