|What Cannot be Forgotten - part one (standard:drama, 2279 words)|
|Author: Anonymous||Added: Sep 18 2001||Views/Reads: 1812/1237||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|This is my first attempt at writing, so any feedback would be much appreciated. It's the coming-of-age story of a guy named John and his best friend.|
One My father was in one of his moods again. All I needed to do was show my face to start him shouting obscenities and kicking over furniture like an angry drunk. Usually he would go on and on about how my mother should have gone through with the abortion in his rage, but today he didn’t want to say anything. Instead, he wanted to punch me. Not so surprisingly, I let him. It was never a secret to me that I was an unwanted accident, I knew that long before my mother ran off to California with another man to start a new family. Yes, my parents were planning to abort me, but my mother backed out at the last moment, saying she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she did it. I wondered how she was living with herself now after abandoning Dad and I for a “fresh start” for herself. That’s actually what she called it in the letter she sent us, a “fresh start.” I don’t know how starting a new life with a new man without even asking for a divorce could be considered fresh. But it didn’t matter then, I was wishing that my mother had been able to terminate her pregnancy. Dad became especially nasty to me after Mom left, probably because I have always looked so much like her. I had the exact same uninterested eyes and apathetic mouth. What made me masculine looking were my jaw and eyebrows; before those features really came out, I was often referred to as “pretty.” I figured that the way Dad saw it, if he was hurting me, he was hurting Mom. So I let him beat me, hoping that he would get all his anger before going to work tomorrow. I didn’t want anyone else to know what was going on in our home. We lived in a luxury townhouse in Woodside, Queens. My father, despite his bad attitude, had become a success on Wall Street. He worked so much that I never saw him for more than 3 hours on any given day, which is probably why I was able to live with him until I went to college. “Why don’t you fight back, you pussy? If you’re just going to take it, get the fuck out of my house!” I quickly complied, not even pausing to get my jacket even though it was raining. I just didn’t want any of the neighbors to hear, I was so ashamed. “How fucking appropriate,” I thought to myself as rain soaked through both my shirt and sneakers. My ribs ached more and more with each step, but at least I had a nearby destination. I was going to see Kim, the most important person in the world to me. I had wanted Kim ever since the first time I saw her with her long blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and full lips. When I first heard her laughing and speaking, I decided that there would be no one else for me. It was my second year of high school, and she was the new kid, trying to find her way around the school. Of course, every guy in the school was offering her help. I was immediately jealous. Luckily, as one of the most popular kids in school, my presence intimidated my competition into leaving as soon as I approached. Before 15 minutes were up, we were talking with the familiarity of old friends. I was in love, but she didn’t have the exact same feelings for me. Over time, we became friends, and I vowed to win her over. “Hey, pandejo! Where you going looking like that? You lookin’ naaasty!” The neighborhood “hero” was shouting at me from outside of the corner market, where he had lived all his life. It was hard to admit it, but as I caught a glimpse of myself in the store window, I realized that I couldn’t see Kim looking the way I did. My hair was pushed seven different ways against my head, and my face was already getting puffy from impact. Not to mention the fact that I couldn’t really stand straight because of the pain in my chest. It was time to think of another place to go. I knew my buddy Al was getting off of work soon, so I figured this was the perfect opportunity to spend some quality time with her. Yes, Al was a woman, and quite the woman at that. But I hadn’t really spent much time with her, as I was always chasing down Kim. Nevertheless, I knew I’d be welcome to spend some time at her place. Alma worked her ass off in an electronics store full time. She filled shelves with music, movies, video games and software. People called her the store’s bitch, but her work ethic had gotten her a few raises, so that made her a well-paid bitch. She also did medical billing from her home computer for some local physicians in her spare time. All of that work allowed her to move out of her parents’ house at seventeen, and Click here to read the rest of this story (141 more lines)
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