Before I get to the boring part of the 'tag-line' I want to say a few things.
I want to thank a few important people who helped me write this story and a few other fun things. I'd like to Thank Lauren, author of "Lucky Me." For helping me out with the story, and listening to me when I ramble. I'd like to encourage DLS to keep up the good work with "Brian and Me." And I'd most definately like to thank my mother. For without everything that she's done in my life, I wouldn't be able to write the way I did. If it wasn't for what she and my family put me through, I wouldn't have been able to write this story with the feeling it's got now.
Also, I'd like to mention that this is only the introduction. The next part is already done and proofread. I actually, wrote the next part before this part. It was Lauren's idea to add this part as a 'prolauge(sp?)' type thing.
Now, I'd like to say that this story does not imply anything about the sexuality of any of the celebrities named herein. And as usual with these types of stories..
If you are offended by any homosexual material, straight material, hell, or any material contained herein, then you should leave. Immediately. If you are offended by male/male relationships, bye. If you are under 18, you shouldn't be here. If anyone actually knows any member of N'Sync of BSB...e-mail me. ::evil grin:: If not, e-mail me anyway!
All e-mails will be appreciated. Any suggestions are welcome, flamers ignored. Praises are most definately welcome. (Sorry, ego boost there) Also, if you are confused about anything in the story, just send an e-mail, IM, or ICQ message. I'll more than likely be on. Byee
E-mail: Tornarius@hotmail.com AOL name: Tornarius ICQ #: 13042113
"Bradly's New Beginning"
By
Frederick Anthony :)
Chapter One:
"Bradly!" I heard my mother call from the kitchen. Amazing! The call of the mother could penetrate even MTV! "Get your ass down here. It's time for dinner!" I sighed as I slowly descended the steps for the kitchen.
Entering the kitchen, I recognized my mother's butch frame. She was short and squat but determined and headstrong. Her long blond hair flowed carelessly around her wrinkled features. She was 45 and showed every year!
Her and I rarely got along. She had this illusion that I loved her, and I had an illusion that she might care for me a little because I was her son. But, we all have dreams. Ever since I was little, I always thought my mother was some kind of alien that brainwashed me. But that was probably because we were always fighting. When we weren't fighting, she was consantly telling me that my friends sucked. Some mother!
I sat down at the table as she put a bowl of spaghetti in front of me. I picked up a fork and started to eat. There were pieces of meat in the bowl but I ate them anyway. She didn't believe that I was a vegetarian, and if I didn't eat them it would only spark an arguement.
"So, how was work?" I asked in a lame attempt to start a friendly conversation. She smiled weakly.
"It was fine." She stated simply. I sighed and pushed the bowl of spaghetti away from me. "Aren't you going to finish?" She asked with a hint of concern, but I knew it was only for show.
"Sorry, I ate a little too much in school. I'm also a little tired. Good night, Mom." I said simply and started to walk up to my room.
"Fine. Don't eat. I work all day, make you dinner and you don't eat." She said angrily. "I should've let your father beat you to death instead of stopping him when I did." I turned around abruptly.
"I can't believe you brought that up. Do you have any idea WHY he beat me like that? No? I thought so." I said tears forming in my eyes at the memory. "Don't say things you don't know shit about, Mother."
"At least I didn't kill my own father." She said arrogantly and simply. snap That was it. I couldn't take, I had to get out of there! I snarled and walked up to my room. My sanctuary. I didn't bother shutting my door, I just turned on the radio and collapsed on my bed. I was crying uncontrollably by now. The memories of what happened when my father beat me were alot for me to handle.
My father and I were always close. I loved him, and he was a good man. He kept my mother in check and for that I thanked him. But one day, I made the mistake of telling him I was gay. I was 13. We were sitting on his bed one day when he decided to give me the 'sex talk.' I told him that I already knew about it from school and that he didn't need to tell me. With that news he smiled and patted my back. He was never a passionate man, but never one to show alot of emotion unless it was serious. I looked him in the eye and decided to tell him I was gay. He started to shout and scream, telling me that I couldn't be gay...then he started to call me a faggot. I couldn't take that pain and started to cry. That's when he started to get physical. He beat me within an inch of my life before he started to sweat really heavily and grunt in pain as he hit me. She walked in and slapped his back with her hand as he beat me, calling me names and such. He suddenly stopped and gripped his chest in pain. He was having a heart attack. My mom freaked and started to tell me how it was my fault. Months later, she started to say how it was all my fault.
I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the phone ring. After the second ring, I picked it up.
"Hello?" I heard a voice say on the other end.
"Hello?" I replied, trying to mask the sorrow in my voice.
"Brad? That you?" My friend John said through the phone. I sighed.
"Yeah, it's me. What's up, John?" I said a little more happily. I was glad, in a way, that is was John. He accepted my being gay, no one else in my family did.
"Nothing much. Are you okay, dude?" He said concerned. If it wasn't for him, I'd have ended my life a long time ago.
"Yah, I'm fine." I said sniffling and wiping the last of the tears away.
"Did she.." He asked with threat in his voice.
"No, she didn't. But she did something even worse." I said. Unable to hold the tears back any longer, I just let them loose. They flowed freely and I sniffed loudly. I heard him whisper comforts through the phone. After about 10 minutes, I calmed down enough to tell him about my mother and the memories.
"Shh, that bitch touches you again and she'll answer to me." He said growling. I smiled and laughed.
"John, I know you'd do everything in your power, and then some, if she ever touched me again. But I don't want you getting hurt. Or anything. You're my bro, man. You're my frick. I love ya to death. I don't want anything to happen to you. After Justin and Chris.." I said softly and started to sniff.
My memories drifted slowly toward the death of our friends. We were a tight knit group that everyone called Frick and Frack. Justin and I were best of friends, barely inseperable. John and Chris were the same way...when the four of us met it just kinda clicked, yanno? We then became known as Frick and Frack. Frick was Justin and I..and Frack was John and Chris. A few months ago, Chris and Justin were driving home from work when a drunk driver hit them. They died instantly and somehow, that gave me some comfort. After that, John and I became even closer. With our status in "Frick and Frack" we were named individually as Frick and Frack.
"I know," he whispered, bringing me back to attention. "I know. But when she hits you..." I sniffled and rocked on the bed.
"I know." I said quietly.
"On a happier note, Josh got his ass kicked." I laughed softly. Josh was this big dumb jock who I never liked. We always beat on each other. He hated me, and I hated him.
"That's good. Oh my," I said as I heard my mother come up the stairs, "I better go."
"Don't, just stick the phone under the bed. I want to hear this."
"Alright." I said and shoved the phone under my bed just as my mother reached the last step.
"Look, Son." She said softly.
"What, Mom?" I said just as soft.
"I...wanted to say I'm sorry." I sighed.
"Yah. Okay."
"That's it?" She said annoyed.
"Well, what do you want me to say? You tell me that you would've been happier if I was dead. What am I supposed to say?" Now I was getting angry.
"I don't know. 'I'm sorry mom, for doing what I did.' or 'I'm sorry mom, for lying." Now I was beyond pissed.
"How about this?!" I said screaming, "I'm sorry mom, that you ever had to give birth to me." I cried and pushed her out of the way. Without thinking of where I was going, I fell down the stairs and started to run for the front door. I pushed it out of my way and ran out into the street. Without thinking on where I was going, I ran. I just kept running until my legs couldn't move anymore. I collapsed on the sidewalk from exaustion. I didn't know what time it was, where I was. And frankly, I didn't care. I cried as I laid there on the ground and I cried as I was picked up and thrown, literally thrown, into a car. I just kept crying as I was transported home and thrown into my room. I didn't know what to and I decided, right then, to kill myself.
After about an hour of quiet, I slowly crept out of my bed and walked silently toward the bathroom. I turned on the bathroom radio and shut the door. The radio played a few songs but finally they played "I do." That was the catalyst that pushed me to the brink.
All while I was in there I had a smile on my face. I decided to give myself the pleasure of killing myself, so my mother wouldn't have the pleasure of doing it. She wouldn't be able to make my life miserable. I felt so happy, I was going to be free.
I turned on the hot water in the bathtub so my mother wouldn't think of anything. I quietly sat down on the toilet and smiled as I looked into the mirror. I barely recognized the face that was staring back at me. My hair was a mess, my eyes were all bloodshot and black rimmed. I smiled in spite of myself.
I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a razor. Smiling like a madman, I made the first cut. Pain slashed through my hand as I slit my wrist vertically. Blood formed where the razor ran. I slit halfway to my elbow when I finally grabbed the razor in the already cut hand. My eyes started tearing up but I was still smiling. I was close to blacking out. I tightened my grip on the razor as I started to make the slit in my other wrist...
"Bradly's New Beginning"
By
Frederick Anthony :)
Chapter two:
"I do...cherish you...from the depths of my soul, it's beyond my control.." played through the radio as I finished the final slit. The blood was flowing freely, as were the tears. I could barely see my face in the mirror due to all of the steam coming from the hot water in the bathtub. I felt numbness in my hands, I felt it slowly creep up through my arms, along my chest, and through my body. Soon, I felt my legs fall out from under me. I lay on the tile floor of the bathroom as my terrible world swirled around me in a great maelsrom. Darkness slowly started from the corner of my eyes and moved slowly but fluidly in my line of vision. The last thing I heard before the void took me was the door creaking open and a loud scream.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" My mother asked as she walked into the hospital room.
"I was trying to kill myself. To save myself the rejection I was going to get from you when you found out I was gay!" I screamed back at her. I was weak, my voice was raspy and horrid. She looked at me with such shock at first, then fear...I stared into her eyes, I could feel them burning into my soul. I wondered when her human appearance would just melt away and I would be faced with whom she really was. Her eyes went cold, she screamed five words that slashed through my heart like an axe in driftwood.
"You are not my son!" She screamed as she pounced on me and tried to take out the I.V. I felt the pain of her grabbing the I.V. and pulling it out of my arm. All I could do was lay there, I was so weak. After she pulled the needle out of my arm she started to punch me in the face. I couldn't even defend myself, I felt so helpless. I've never felt so helpless in my entire life. Soon, I heard the door open and three men, clad in white jackets, grabbed her and tried pulling her off me. She grabbed my shirt as they pulled her off of me and I went with her. The last thing I remember was my head hitting something hard and darkness following me.
I opened my eyes some time later. I tried to sit up but I winced as I felt a pain in my stomach and chest region. I decided to stay laying down.
"You shouldn't move." A voice said, it came from my right. My eyes were still closed so I couldn't see who it was. I suspected it was a doctor. I tried to sit up again and to open my eyes, but to no avail. I felt a strong hand push me back down and then a deep chuckle. "I said, you shouldn't move. I don't want you killing yourself you know. What would I explain to the doctors?" I still didn't recognize the voice, and I still couldn't open my eyes.
"My....eyes." I rasped. My voice came out dry and sandy. My mouth felt as if it was on fire with a trace hint of copper. "Can't...see." Was all I was able to get out before darkness swept over me, yet again.
I came to, I think, hours later. I had a little bit more energy was able to open my eyes but only with extreme difficulty. I tried to sit up again but pain flared through my chest and stomach region. I started to gasp because the pain was so great. I laid back down with my eyes closed and thought of the past few days? Hours? The last thing I remember was getting the shit beat out of me by my mother. I sighed, which was a big mistake, I tell you! The pain was terrible. I just laid there with my eyes closed for I don't know how long. Finally, I heard the door to my room open and someone step in.
"H...h...el....lo?" I tried to speak, but it was strained and raspy. It hurt like hell, also. I heard the footsteps stop and then change direction.
"Hello? Mr. Pat Tine? Are you awake?" A cheerful but concerned voice said quietly to the room. I guessed it was the nurse. I groaned and tried to say something. "What? I'm sorry, I can't understand you. You're in pretty bad condition, Mr. Pat Tine. Would you like me to go get the doctor?" I groaned again and sighed.
"Pe....t...tine." I said hoarsely. I opened my eyes and looked at the woman. She was short, petite, and had wonderful blond hair.
"I'm sorry, sir?" She said in that high voice of hers. I smiled.
"Pettine." I said a little more strongly. "Hurts....to...talk."
"Pettine? Oh! I get it, that's how you pronounce your last name?" Her eyes caught mine with a fierce intensity that I wouldn't be surprised if she could see my soul. She smiled a wonderful smile and kissed my forehead. "Well now, Mr. Pettine, I'll go get the doctor and let him know you're awake. In the meantime, there's a cup of water on the table next to your bed if you're thirsty. Mr. Privea will be here shortly. He was the witness at what your mother did. He's been looking after you." She shook a finger at me and scolded me playfully, "You should thank him. He took a few punches for you. Got a nice bruiser to his right eye, also." I smiled.
"Thanks..."
"Nancy."
"T...t...thanks, Nancy." I whispered. She just barely heard me as she started to head out the door. She stopped at the threshold, turned around and smiled, "He's cute. But not your boyfriend? Shame. He's cute. If he's straight, send him my way." I smiled and gave her an "OK" sign. She laughed a heartfelt laugh and left.
After about 10 minutes of absolute silence, I figured the doctor had more important patients to deal with so I decided to try and doze off. No sooner had I started to doze did a guy in his earler 20s walk through the door. He was dressed tastelessly. Brown khakis, brown dress shirt, tie...it all matched pretty well. His sandy blond hair and blue eyes went great with that outfit. He was definately straight. And too old for me. I figured I'd send him over to that blond bitch. Nancy, I believe her name was.
"Hi. Mr. Pettine?" He asked. I smiled weakly.
"You...be...Priv...ea?" I said as best I could. He nodded.
"Don't talk. Save your strength." He looked at me for a second, then grinned. "Uhm, that sounded corny. What I mean was save your strength so you could heal faster." I nodded and smiled a little wider. "You're probably wondering what happened." I shook my head 'no' and he shrugged. "Well, I'll have the doctor tell you then. Okay?" I nodded and started to doze off.
"Sle...ep." I said as I fell into the void, yet again.
Hours later I awoke to a warm feeling on my forehead. I opened my eyes slowly and I saw that Nancy was washing my face softly.
"You're awake." She said quietly, barely audibly. I smiled.
"Yes." I said smiling. It hurt to talk, but not as bad as earlier. And I could talk a little louder too. She just smiled.
"I see you can talk now. Would you like to tell me exactly why your mother was on you and beating the shit out of you?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. I whimpered and tried to move my hand.
"My..hand?" I asked softly.
"I'm holding it." She said just as soft. I forced my finger to squeeze her hand, I didn't know if I did or didn't, just that I tried to.
"Mother found out secret. She got angry. Was too weak to fight back. Sorry I cost hospital money." I said frowning.
"You didn't cost the hospital anything. Your mother is paying for it all. Whether she likes it or not. She can't refuse, you're under 18 so she's got to pay for it." Nancy smiled and kissed my cheek. "I'll go get the doctor. Stay awake?" I nodded. "Good." She left through the door and I tried to sit up. I didn't know if I did or didn't, just that I could see a little bit more, a little bit better. I glanced around the hospital room and noted that it was sparse with furniture. There was a chair on the right of the bed, a dresser type thing on the left. Straight ahead but up toward the roof was a TV. Looking on the dresser, I tried to will my left hand to pick it up, but I couldn't get my left hand to move. I looked down at my body.
My hands were on the bed but they were being held to the bed by a strap. My body seemed to be okay, but a little pale. This'll take awhile for me to heal from, I thought as I looked at a wound upon my hand, Aye. It'll take a long time. As I thought that, the doctor came in.
He was a middle-aged man of about 37. His black hair was greying a little but he looked as if he kept in shape. He smiled when he saw me sitting up in bed.
"You make a fast recovery." He said grinning. I smiled weakly.
"How...long...here?" I asked the question that's been plaguing me for as long as I can remember being in the hospital. His grin fell.
"Two weeks." Two weeks? Did I hear him right? Two weeks? Oh my, how much homework did I miss? Wait, it's Christmas break.
"The date?" I asked softly.
"January 2nd." I sighed, which proved to be very painful. January 2nd? School starts the 12th, will I be fine by then?
"Must...be in school...the 12th." I said as best I could.
"You should be out of here by the 10th." That was the best news I've gotten all day! Well, whatever it's been.
"Drink?" I asked softly. He reached for the cup on the table and put it to my lips. I drank it all. "Thanks." I said, my voice taking on a better strength. My throat wasn't as dry, and my body felt a little better with something wet in it. "Now..not totally...dehydra..ted." I smiled. He laughed a genuine rich laugh.
"Don't worry, we'd never let that happen. Well, we're gonna try you on some jell-o. If you keep that down, then you'll be out of here before the 6th. Depends on how well you heal." I smile.
"I make a...fast recovery." I said louder than I should have. He laughed and patted me on the back.
"Well, would you like to know everything that's wrong?" I shrugged as best I could. "Well, you've got 2 broken ribs, and 3 cracked ribs. You're throat was severely bruised, you had a mild concussion, you're nose was almost broken...there's a hairline fracture in your arm. You lost alot of blood, not only from the uhm," here he cleared his throat, "suicide attempt. But also from when your mother tried to...kill you." He offered a sad smile. "I'm sorry. But she's under arrest for attempted murder." I smiled.
"She..deserves...what...she gets." He nodded.
"That she does, my friend. That she does." He smiled and patted my back. "Well, I better get going. I hope you have a good time sleeping. The drugs in that bag are enough to knock you out until next month." He offered a laugh. "You're gonna spend alot of time sleeping, when you're not sleeping, you'll be eating. So get some rest and when you wake, we'll have Nancy bring in some jell-o, okay?" I smiled and nodded. "Good! See you in a bit." With that he left. I leaned back against the baseboard thing, I guess it's a headboard, and closed my eyes.
I was falling down a dark void. There wasn't any light in sight. As I fell, I heard voices. I couldn't make out what they were saying at first, but after a few minutes I could understand them. They were all saying one thing, "Freedom." But as I fell, they voices kept getting dimmer and dimmer. When they were gone, the void around me disipated and I was standing over a grave. I froze when I read what was on the gravestone...
R.I.P. Bradly Petro Born: March 29th 1951 Died: March 29th 1995
The dates looked familiar but the name was mine. Though, in 1999 I was 17. I wasn't born in 1951. I was born in 1982. As the landscape around me deteriorated, I stared at the tombstone. My heart started to race, and before I knew it, I woke up.
I awoke in a cold sweat. Unknowing what the dream meant, I cried softy in my bed. Before I knew it, I was asleep again.
I awoke a few hours later. Looking around, I looked for the nurses call button. When I found it above my bed I pushed it a couple of times. Not even three minutes later, Nurse Nancy walked into the room all smiling and chipper with a tray of jello. I blinked at her a second.
"I had it already made. It was in the fridge over at the nurses' station." I nodded, "I just had to grab it and bring it over when I heard the button." I smiled and nodded some more. "Can you talk yet?" I thought a moment.
"It..hurts. But..I'll be..fine..soon. Right?" I asked softly. She nodded.
"You better! Or I'll..uhm, do something really bad?" She said winking. I laughed softly. She had a lame sense of humor but her trying was funny. She kissed my forehead and patted my chest. "You eat this jell-o. Or I'll shove it down your throat." I smiled and looked at the tray. On it was three small bowls of jell-o. One looked to be a disgusting mix of whipped cream and strawberry jello, another was strawberry jello with oranges inside, and another was grape with grapes inside. Talk about variety. I picked up a fork with my right hand, I don't know when they were untied, and scooped some jell-o onto my fork. My wrists were sore so I didn't move them all that much. My throat thanked me for the cool jello. It tasted wonderful as it went down my hot, parched throat. After I finished the first two bowls I pushed the tray away.
"I had..enough." I said smiling at my almost normal voice. She smiled too!
"I see. You ate alot for someone who went through what you did. You've got some color back too. Soon, I'll have you back to normal and walking!" I laughed again..a little louder than normal. "Promise me something?" She asked sincerely. I raised an eyebrow.
"What?" I said cautiously.
"After we get you in tip-top shape. Promise me you and I'll go dancing? So I can prove to you that we did a good job?" I laughed.
"A friendly thing. I promise." She smiled, kissed my forehead, and took the trays out of here.
The next week we worked on me holding down solid food and walking. I was healing pretty fast. My ribs hurt, but they would for the next few weeks. Or so the doctor says. Mr. Privea never came back after I had that dream. The hospital was good at keeping my moral up. I was commonly in a goodmood and always joking. January 11th came around and it was time for me to leave. I promised everyone I'd come back. There was one small problem though: Who was going to pick me up? And where was I going?
I'd like to apologize for the summary near the end. I didn't want this to start out too fast, nor too slow. And hospital scenes are so ... cliche. Thanks again for reading!
Fred :) Tornarius@hotmail.com