The Wounds Within My Heart By James
Disclaimer
If you're not of the legal age to read this story, or if you're offended by this type of material then leave now. This story may at times contain sex and romantic moments between consenting teenaged males. It also may contain scenes of Hate Speech towards people of different races, sexual orientations, disability groups and others. If you can't handle reading about that, then leave.
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Finally, if you like this story and haven't done this already. When my E-mail address jamesheady1985@gmail.com has to go in for surgery on its eye, sneak into the Anesthesia Cart and replace the drugs used for sedation with regular saline, but leave the Paralytic drugs as they are.
Thanks to K. for editing on this story. It wouldn't be what it is without you. Thank you.
Summery
Nohea Wilson has had a care-free life. He was born into a rich family, had a house that could hold over 50 people and endless amounts of money with which he could buy anything his heart desired. It seems that way on the outside looking in. But for Nohea, as he begins to realize how emotionally and even morally toxic the life he lives can be, he ends up finding the one treasure he values over all when he makes a new friend.
When his new friend moves away after only a month of them knowing each other, Nohea knows what it's like to be in love for the first time ever. He also learned what losing love feels like for the first time as well. All this happens when he's 13, and in his second year at his state's school for the blind. He's there due to an eye condition which was diagnosed when he was only a couple of weeks old.
Will Nohea be able to get through his loss and be able to find happiness? Will he be able to find someone with whom he can once again find love? Finally, will he be able to get to live the true and authentic life he has always wanted? Find out in The Wounds Within My Heart.
The Wounds Within My Heart
Book One
New Friends
Part One
Nohea
Prologue
He was large for being only 13, and he sat on the huge rock outside in the woods. The boy had on a Sapphire-Blue shirt. He had a clean-shaven face, light grey eyes, and thick blond hair that was about an inch above his eyes. He also had full red lips that any boy or girl would be eager to kiss. There he sat in the picture, the one who went away, leaving the boy looking at the image, broken-hearted and unsure if he'd ever see him again.
Chapter One
Nohea Wilson
So another year begins. That's what I was thinking as I felt the car slow, then stop once it was apparent that we were at our destination. My mom unbuckled her seat belt as her husband shut off the car.
"We're here," he announced in that official tone he had that never seemed to stop reminding me that he was in the military. That tone also said that I had better never forget it.
"Is it just your iPod you have to put away?" my mom asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Good," she said with a flat tone. "For once, you had something small with you, and we're not having to wait until you put away practically the whole damn house."
"She's right," her husband said. "It's like you think you need to take almost the whole god damn house with you when we go somewhere. At least we won't have to deal with you and your shit for a few days while you're up here."
The "up here" that my mom's husband Ray was referring to was the school for the blind that I went to. It was in a small area, but not so small that it wasn't close to a couple of the cities near-by.
"I hope you remembered everything Nohea," my mom started in with a little bit of inflection in her voice this time. "Because I'm not stopping here again during the week. If you forgot your phone charger, or your note taker, then that's your problem. I can see that these people up here are right. You really need to start learning how the real-world works. Hell, Dave Connelly, your computer teacher, has been telling you that for the last year since you've been going to this school."
While I had been slightly nervous about the trip up here, like all the other times, we would head back on Sundays. My nervousness increased when we pulled into the parking space. Now my fear and anger were awakening. The man who's name my mom just mentioned was someone I feared, and had long-since begun to hate.
"I didn't know that shouting at someone and making them feel afraid was a good way to prepare them for whatever real world this school, and now you, are talking about."
I said this as I felt my face flush.
"Watch your god damn mouth," Ray said in that low and threatening tone that would usually precede him shouting in rage whenever he continued to feel provoked.
"I've told you about Connelly yelling at me, and I have felt upset by that," I said. "I've told you about everything he did."
"Damn it, Nohea!" my mom yelled. "I don't want to hear anymore of your shit! I know if you had it your way that you'd be home all fucking day doing god only knows what. But we made the decision that you're to go to this school until your 22, which is when you'll be graduating. We decided that months before you came here last year. Whatever you told us about this place didn't change our minds back then, and it won't now. Besides, I'm not completely convinced that you're not making this shit up half the time. That is, if you're not exaggerating most of what happens so you can play the victim."
"We're getting really sick of it boy," Ray said looking back at me.
I didn't need to have 20/20 vision to see the anger that was most likely written all over his face given his tone of voice at that moment.
"Alright," I said attempting to keep my voice neutral. "I'll get my stuff and go into the dorms."
"Good," my mom said, getting out and slamming her door hard.
I should introduce myself. My name is Nohea Wilson, and at that time I was 13 years old. I stood around 5-1, and was around 130 LBS. I have black hair and deep-blue eyes. I had started going to the school for the blind the year before, at the end of August of 2022. I hated it the moment I set foot on the campus. I was nervous as any kid would be about going to a school where they would have to stay during the evening as well as during the day. My mom and her husband let me know from the visit they made there back in April of 2022, that they weren't going to treat me gently. They took me there a month later to check it out. We went for the day on a Monday, and though the teachers seemed nice, I could sense a tension underneath everything. It was as if they were attempting to conceal the aggression in their voices.
When I began attending the school last year, I quickly found out that my concern regarding the school wasn't unfounded, not at all.
I mentioned previously about how kids had to stay at the school for the blind in the evenings. If the kids lived about 45 minutes or under from the school, they were called Day Students. This meant that they went to classes during the day, and unless there were any extra-curricular activities such as sports, then they went back home with their families in the evenings like at any regular school. Others who lived an hour or more away from the school had to stay in the dorms from Sunday night to Friday, at which point they would go back home, either by way of their families picking them up or a transport service.
I lived an hour-and-a-half away from the school, so unfortunately, I had to stay there starting Sunday night, and then I'd go back home on Fridays like the other Residential Students. Fortunately, I had a room to myself. Most of the other kids had either two or three people to a room. I couldn't have handled that.
As for my vision, I have what's called Retinopathy of Prematurity. It's caused by being born prematurely. It basically causes damage to the retinas. For some kids, it can cause total damage, leaving the kid totally blind in one or both eyes. I was blind in my right eye from the ROP, but I did have enough vision in my left eye to see things up close. I could also read large print, but given the unstable nature of ROP, the public school where I attended classes before going to the blind school, said they wanted me to continue with reading Braille. This was right after I mastered learning the system of dots when I was seven.
Once I started attending the blind school last year, a doctor who would come out to the school to visit new students, checked my eyes more thoroughly. Concerned that I might have Glaucoma, particularly in my left eye, my one working eye, he referred me to the eye clinic in Sangger, city that was about two hours away. The doctor who referred me saw me on a Tuesday in October of 2022, then again four months later in February of 2023. On a cold Tuesday morning, I was driven to the eye clinic in Sangger.
After almost an hour of the doctors shining bright lights in my left eye, checking my eye pressure, first with a small device that looked like a huge pen, then they checked it with another instrument that looked like something out of an episode of the Outer Limits. I had to place my chin on a chin rest, and my forehead rested against a frame. Attached to that was a blue filter that went over a slit lamp. After checking the pressure in my left eye one final time with this last tool, they left the room for several minutes. When I asked them where they were going, they said they wanted to show the results to the Chief of Ophthalmology.
I didn't like the sound of that. I just sat there alone in the room. The transporter who brought me was in the outer room. No one in my family was with me, which made my nervousness that was present in the beginning blossom into outright fear by the time the tests at the clinic began. I continued sitting there, trying to keep my heart from racing, but that was easier said than done.
Soon the doctors were back, and Dr. Clark, the one who performed all the tests sat down on his desk chair, wheeling it in front of me.
"Well Nohea, it's good that Dr. Scott referred you here to us," he said.
Dr. Scott was the doctor who I saw in October the year before.
"Why?" I asked. "What did you find?"
"You have Glaucoma in your left eye," Dr. Clark replied. "A normal pressure in the eye is supposed to be from 10 to 21. Your eye pressure was 50 when you first got here today. As of the last reading just a few minutes ago, it's 65. Have you been having any blurred vision?"
I thought, and then remembered that during that past summer I was experiencing some blurred vision, as if looking through a steamed up window. I didn't know what it meant, and figured that I had been straining my eyes. My mom and Ray assumed this as well. That was their common answer. They always had bad faith views regarding most things about me.
I told Dr. Clark about what I noticed that past summer.
"Don't feel bad about it," he said. "Some people who have Glaucoma don't have any symptoms until they're diagnosed, and even then, they might still have any until they begin to lose vision or go completely blind. Have you had any headaches that felt more painful, or felt like they were above your eye. Also, did the pain feel like it was traveling near or inside your eye?"
I thought once again and remembered having exactly the headaches Dr. Clark described. This was back at the beginning of last year. I remembered using Tylenol three days in a row when the headaches came on. My mom and Ray assumed that I was exaggerating the pain.
"I did have exactly what you're describing," I said.
"I see," he said writing for a moment on his note pad. "Of the percentage of people who have any kinds of symptoms of untreated and/or undiagnosed Glaucoma, those are the symptoms to watch for."
"I'll definitely keep an eye out for them, no pun intended," I said.
Dr. Clark smiled. He then went on to explain that Glaucoma is a condition in which the drainage canals in the eye ball either get blocked up or just stop working. As a result, a thin fluid in the front of the eye that gives the eye nutrients can't drain through these passages. As it continues to stay trapped in the front of the eye, more fluid gets produced and pressure builds. Blood vessels can burst, causing bleeding in the front area of the eye ball, producing blurred vision and even pain. Damage can occur to the optic nerve, and blindness usually is the result unless treatment, either by way of eye drops or surgery, is given.
"I'll start you on an eye drop today," Dr. Clark said. "You'll take it once a day, and I'd suggest taking it at night before you go to bed. It doesn't have to be just right then, but an hour or two before."
"Okay," I said trying to process everything he had said. "You mentioned surgery as an option."
"I did, but I really would like to see if eye drops can lower the pressure and keep it at the levels it needs to be," Dr. Clark answered. "In short, surgery is a last resort. At least that's how I'd like to think of it for now."
"What if you can't keep the pressure under control through eye drops?" I asked.
"Then we would have to have you come back here to the hospital," Dr. Clark said. "We would do surgery in which case you would be given General Anesthesia. Then we would do whichever surgery we felt was appropriate to help lower your eye pressure. Let's just go one step at a time though. You're going to be on the eye drop I told you about. Hopefully that'll get things going in the right direction."
"I hope so," I responded.
Once I returned to the school that afternoon, it was turning into dinner time. I called my mom. She said that Dr. Clark called her.
"Now you know that you could lose your vision completely, right?" she asked with that usual business like cold tone she always seemed to have even under the best of circumstances.
"Yeah," I said. "Dr. Clark told me about what could happen if the Glaucoma can't be controlled through eye drops."
"Yeah, well how well your Glaucoma does with the eye drops is going to depend far more on how well you remember to use the medicine," she said sharply. "I mean it Nohea, this had better not be one more thing I have to keep on you about. If you have to have surgery, I don't know how I'd find time to take off to be there for it. Your Aunt Carry might have to take you. That is if it even comes to that. You know I have my high-power job. I mean, how else do you think I keep this family of ours soaked in money? I mean when we're not getting Ray's paycheck."
I was 13 at that point, and though I had a soft and sensitive disposition, I felt a deep and burning rage for my mother at that moment. I knew that she could be cold, distant and harsh. This was ridiculous though. I couldn't believe she was worrying about missing work at a time like this. Sure, surgery wasn't even a possibility for me at that moment, but the fact that she was bothered by taking off even one day to be there for me, and mentioning money, was beginning to show me something I didn't want to see. While I knew my mom could be cold, as I already said, I was discovering something else. I was discovering that my mom truly didn't like me.
"Hopefully I won't have to have surgery," I said feeling my rage give way to sadness that was making me feel close to tears at any moment. "All I know is that I'm really worried about all this right now. It's a lot to take in."
"You're not coming home early if that's what you're thinking," she said sharply. "Maybe this will make you toughen up like what Ray wants. I always thought he was over-doing it with all that, but at this point, I wish he could make a fucking man out of you. Now I have to go."
"I love you," I said feeling the first tear fall.
"Yeah," she said then barely a second after she said that I heard the dial tone. After slamming down the dorm phone, I ran to my room and fell on my bed, sobbing hard.
Unfortunately, I had to have surgery around June of this year. They implanted a tube in the front of my eye ball, and the hope was that it would drain off the fluid that was building up. My eye drops had stopped working around March. They tried a few others that didn't work, and finally in the middle of May they decided on surgery.
My mom made sure to have them schedule it for when I would be out of school, and so they set it up for the middle of June.
I had to go back in at the end of July to have the tube readjusted since it moved out of position. After they reimplanted the tube and set it into position, I had to stay still and not do any of my usual activities for two weeks. They believed that as the eye shrank due to the pressure getting even lower it pushed the tube out of its correct alignment.
Both surgeries were frightening. It wasn't anything in particular. It was just the cold clinical atmosphere, from the smell of the hospital to the smell of the tape used to keep my IV in place, and the smell of the mask they placed over my face as they began inducing anesthesia. The mask gave me extra oxygen as I fell asleep.
In short, those experiences didn't help my already fearful view of hospitals, and I hated and feared both hospitals and doctors long after those two surgeries.
As I stood in front of my bed taking, clothes out of my suit case, I marveled at how it was the end of August, and it seemed like just yesterday when I was going through the second surgery. I hoped it would be the last one. As I worked on putting my clothes in the appropriate places, my mom was unpacking my soap, shampoo and other toiletries. I set them up where I wanted them, then after making sure everything else was in order, she said goodbye to me. Ray waved, and they were gone. At that point I was glad to be rid of them. It hurt me that I felt that way, and I sat down on my bed trying to get my emotions under control. Just then I heard a sharp knock on my open bedroom door.
"Mr. Wilson, you got things organized?" Doug Fields, the head Resident Supervisor, asked as he stood in the doorway.
He spoke in that slightly hardened tone that prison guards used with prisoners. He wasn't the worst staff member, but he could be sarcastic and mainly liked jokes that were borderline offensive to the LGBT Community.
"Yeah, everything is in order," I said.
"Good, dinner will be in an hour," he said, then walked away.
I checked the clock on my note taker, and couldn't believe it. It was 4:00 P.M. that Monday afternoon.
I know I said earlier that we would come back on Sunday evenings, those of us who had to stay at the dorms. That's true, but at the beginning of each school year, we had to come back on Mondays to register and get checked in. Classes would begin the next day as it had every year since the school had been in existence.
After a dinner of meatloaf that looked like two hunks of cat shit out of a litter box, and mashed potatoes that tasted like glue they used for setting tiles into flooring, I let the staff know I'd be outside. They said okay and I went out to an area that had a few benches and picnic tables.
The dorm I stayed in was labeled simply Dorm 1. Dorm 2 was right next door, and in between them was the sitting area. I sat down on the first bench which was pushed far out into the middle of the courtyard for some reason. I put in my earbuds and was listening to a play list on my iPod. Itwas made up of songs from a few Classic Rock groups like Crosby, Stills and Nash, both with and without Neal Young. There was also Billy Joel and Pink Floyd in the list as well. Over that past weekend though, I had added a few new groups I hadn't heard before. I discovered the groups Night Wish, Tarot and Tyr. I found them on a couple of links from YouTube, and loved their Hard Rock and Symphonic sounds. I added them to the list the night before, and was getting ready to pull up one of Night Wish's albums after the songs from Pink Floyd ended.
Just then I felt a tapping on my right arm. It felt odd. It felt like something hard and of a material that clearly wasn't a person's hand.
Pausing my music, I removed my earbuds and looked to my right. My vision at that point was blurry so that I couldn't see much, but I could still see faces. I wasn't sure how much longer that would be the case, but that's where it was for now. I was certainly more reliant on my guiding cane than ever before, given the damage done to my left eye over the last several months.
Standing to my right was a boy who looked like he was a little taller than I was. I strained my eye, and saw that he had golden-blond hair. Unfortunately I couldn't see what color his eyes were. He had something in his hand, and I figured that it was the object he used to tap me on the arm. He was holding it out, and I took it once he pressed it against my hand.
What he handed me was a small leather case that was small enough to fit in to a pants pocket. I opened it, and on the left side it had a picture of the boy, and looking closely at the photo I could see that his eyes were grey. On the right it had a couple of laminated cards that could be turned like pages in a book. Fortunately, they were brailled, but I had to turn the folder sideways to read them. The first one read: "My name is Pietro Rollins. I just turned 13 on January 3 of this year. To those who can't see I have blond hair and grey eyes. I'm nonverbal and have Cerebral Palsy in my legs. The condition causes problems with my brain communicating with my legs and its muscles, so walking can be difficult for me. My muscles have little muscle tone, so it can be a challenge for me to balance and walk fast. I'm not deaf and am I able to understand speech, so please talk normally when speaking to me.
If I'm ever lost and you find this folder, or me, please call 404-555-5444. That's my guardian's number. His name is Brandon Carson. It's nice to meet you."
I flipped to the next card which listed a couple of medications Pietro was taking, and the previously-mentioned Cerebral Palsy he had. Closing the folder, I handed it back to him. He took it, and now I had to think of how I was going to communicate with him. He had no talking note taker like what most of us used. Had he had one, he could have had him type on that.
"Would you like to sit down?" I asked.
He nodded his head, and it was hard to see at this point. My eye was strained, and was hurting slightly now. I thought for a minute.
"I can't see out of my right eye, well nothing except for light," I said. "Things look blurred out of my left eye because of an eye disease I have. Maybe if I hold out my right hand, you can tap your index finger on the back of it. Tap it once for yes if you understand. Then you can tap twice for no if you ever have to say no about something."
I held out my right hand, and he tapped once for yes, then I moved to my left to make room for him on the bench. He sat down, and though another person could have sat down beside him on his right since there was enough room leftover, he scooted a bit closer to me.
"I'm Nohea," I said. "That's my name.
He made a slight vocal noise that sounded like he was considering my name. It's not a typical name, and according to my mom, my dad picked it out. Well, that was before he left. At least that's what my mom said.
I held out my right hand, and Pietro shook it. His hand was large, warm and soft. I was surprised. I hadn't ever felt hands that soft on another boy before, not that I held many boy's hands at that point in time.
"It's nice to meet you," I said.
He tapped on the back of my right hand once.
"Are you saying you're glad to meet me as well?" I asked.
He tapped again one time for yes.
"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "Are you new hear?"
Another one-tap.
Are you blind in either eye?" I asked.
"Two taps for no.
"Can you see most or all of what's in front of you either up close or far away?"
One tap.
"Can you read print?"
"Two taps, and I sensed that this bothered him for he looked away.
"Can you write print?"
Two taps.
"What about Braille? Can you write in that form? That's the series of dots we who are visually impaired or blind write and read in whenever it's available."
Two taps.
"Do you know what Braille is? I mean, did you know of it before I asked you about it?"
Two taps.
"Okay," I said. "How about this, if there's something you don't know, you can tap on my hand three times to let me know. I'll do the best I can to explain whatever it is you don't know. Is that good with you?"
One tap.
"Good," I replied. "I got here a couple of hours ago. My mom and her husband Ray dropped me off. I've been going here to the school since last year. I started at the end of August of 2022. It's okay, I don't mind going here."
I didn't feel comfortable saying what I really thought since I didn't know who might be listening. Some of the resident supervisors loved to listen around doorways. I wondered if Pietro understood that what I was saying was Bullshit or not.
I went on to tell him about having to stay at the school during the week.
"Obviously you're having to do the same," I said.
One tap.
"Your folder that I checked out mentioned a guardian," I said. "Is Brandon who you live with?"
One tap.
"Okay," I said. "Did you ever live with your mom and dad?"
Two taps.
Did they give you up?" I asked.
One tap.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "Do you miss them, or maybe I should ask if you wish they were around."
Two taps.
"Is it that you have no memory so can't miss people you don't remember?" I asked.
"One tap.
"Would you ever want to have them in your life if they came back around?"
Two taps.
"Do you know why they gave you up?" I asked. "One thing we could try is I could give a list of options. I can hold out my right hand like I've been doing. I'll have the options from left to right, and you can put your finger on the area that is the option you want. In other words, if I ask if you want Pepsi, Coke or Orange Juice to drink, I can do what I just described, and you can place your finger for which thing you want. Is that alright?"
One tap.
"Good," I said. "You mentioned that you wouldn't want to have your bio parents back in your life going forward. Were they unable to take care of you?"
One tap.
"Were they into drugs or alcohol?" I asked doing the back of the hand gesture I showed him.
Pietro put his index and middle finger on both areas. I felt disgust. Even at that age, I hated people who wouldn't take care of their kids, and who chose drugs and alcohol over them!
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "Oh yeah, and if you want to say thank you or something like that, just put all four fingers on the back of my hand. You're welcome could be your palm on the back of my hand. Is that alright?"
One tap.
"Good," I said.
"Did you just get finished with dinner a little while ago as well?" I asked. "I had my dinner not too long ago."
One tap.
"We had meatloaf and mashed potatoes," I said. "There were peas, but they're never good. Did you guys have that same thing?"
Mondays when we came back for the year, we would eat at the dorms. The next day we would start eating dinner at the cafeteria up at the school building.
Pietro gave me two taps.
At that point, Pietro took my hand and turned it so that my palm was facing up. He traced a triangle shape with the short edge rounding off.
"Pizza?"
One tap.
"Was it frozen pizza?"
One tap.
"Then I didn't miss much."
He laughed, and I joined in.
"I'm not big on frozen pizza. I like it better when it comes from a restaurant. There are a couple of pizza restaurants I can walk to around here since they're only a few minutes from where we're sitting right now. I could take you to one of them sometime. We just have to let the dorm supervisors know."
One tap, and Pietro also made a sound of happiness.
"I'm glad you like that idea," I went on. "What will you be doing for the rest of the evening?"
Pietro paused for a moment, then after taking my hand again he traced a square shape. He traced a couple of rectangle shapes.
"You're going to watch TV?"
One tap.
Is there something you'll be watching, or will it be whatever the other kids and staff want to watch?"
He pointed to the second option.
"I hope you like whatever's on."
He squeezed my hand gently.
"Is that you saying that you agree?"
One tap.
"Cool," I said.
I sat there beside the boy who I was quickly thinking of as a new friend. He sat there, leaning back against the bench. I felt like I wanted to be with him all night, and though I could see that the sun was setting, I didn't want our time together to end. I knew though from the dorm supervisors calling to various kids, that shower time was near. After checking my iPod's clock, I saw that it was almost 8:00 P.M. Had it really been that long that I had been sitting with Pietro? I couldn't believe it! It was only after 6:00 P.M. when I first sat down here on the bench! Feeling what I was noticing to be a deep sense of sadness, I turned to Pietro.
"It's after 8:00 P.M., and so I have to get going. I have to go get my shower, and after that I'll be in my dorm for the night. I can walk you to the door of your dorm if you'd like?"
One tap.
I stood, then Pietro followed suit. I turned in the direction of the porch that led to the door of Pietro's dorm. Pietro stood there, then turned facing me.
"I had a good time talking with you tonight," I said stepping closer to him.
Holding out my hand, Pietro gently squeezed it again, then reached out both arms. Instantly, I stepped closer as he just as quickly took me in his arms, as if we had known each other from the day we were born!
It felt really nice to be in Pietro's arms at that moment! Feeling him embrace me like he was doing made me feel safe. It was a feeling that I hadn't experienced in a while, but I didn't realize it until that moment. As we stood there hugging, I felt a deep void finally filled. I hadn't even known that that void had been there until now, as I stood there with my new friend holding me tightly. I never wanted that moment to end!
"Will I see you again?" I asked as I rested my cheek against his.
One tap on the back of my shoulder without hesitation.
"Is it alright if I stop by tomorrow?"
One tap
"Good! If the teachers don't give me too much homework, I should be able to stop over either before or after dinner."
One tap.
We separated at that point, which was a good thing too, since Doug Fields was calling for a couple of kids in my dorm to get ready for their showers. Now his voice was coming from the open door of the dorm.
"Mr. Wilson! Shower time!" he called out.
"I'll be right there." I moved so that I was beside Pietro, and as I walked, he began walking slowly. I matched my steps with his as best as I could, and once at his door I shook hands with him.
"I hope you have a good night," I said. "I also hope you sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow."
One tap, and he squeezed my hand gently. I squeezed back, then watched as he entered the dorm. Stepping back a couple of steps, I turned and walked in the direction of my dorm, feeling that sadness intensify as I neared the building. I wanted to be back beside my new friend, and I wanted it badly! Attempting to rearrange my face into a slightly happy look, I entered the dorm letting, Mr. Fields know I was back. He let me know he heard and I showered after getting my soap and shampoo from my room.
After my shower was finished, I returned to my room. Once in my boxers, I got in bed, and though it was almost 9:00 P.M. at that point, I was asleep within a few minutes of my head hitting the pillow. Though the day started out sad, I loved how it ended with meeting Pietro! I hoped to get to know him more, and hoped that we could become really good friends!
Author's Notes
I hope all of you like this story, as well as this beginning chapter. It's a story idea I had for a long time, and so here it is.
In the next chapter, Nohea and Pietro will get to spend the next day together. I hope you like how that goes. You're all going to also get to see more of Nohea's back story as to what the deal is with his mom and her husband Ray. I hope you guys enjoy that as well.
All that being said, I hope you guys have a good evening, and I'll see you all in Chapter Two.