Attached is a chapter written by one of the people who has been writing to me about my story. I asked his permission to post his work, and he has agreed. We have written a joint introduction to it.
As always, if you're not supposed to be reading this, then don't.
Chris: Hey, everyone. I know you're anxiously waiting for Turnabout Series Two, but that'll be a while yet. In the meantime, thanks a lot for all the great feedback! It is much appreciated, and has so stimulated the creative juices that episode one has already been written. But in the meantime, one of my correspondents by the name of Michael actually went ahead and created a chapter of his own, which he has agreed to share with you all. Here he is to tell you more about it:
Michael: Okay first off I would like to thank Chris for giving me the creative freedom to write a chapter for him. I don't know if he will treat it as a "What if" chapter [Chris: yes!] or actually integrate it into his own story. [Chris: no!] I kinda ragged on Chris for giving Will the raw end of the stick so this is my chance for the "underdog" to shine. For those of you that may recognize the style of writing, yes I am the same Michael that writes Greg (and yes I know I am taking a long sabbatical on writing it), and A Halloween Story (the first one not the recent ones with the same title mine dates back to 1998). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the "turnabouts" in this chapter. Feel free to drop me a comment at mriffon@telcomplus.net
Turnabout: What If?
I lay there staring at the ceiling. How could he do this to me? I thought he loved me! Why is David with Josh? Those three ideas rolled over and over in my head as the tears continued to flow. Then the knock at the door and the soft voice of my mom.
"William, honey, it's dinner time."
Just by the sound of her voice I could tell my mother was concerned; she could always read me like a book. Yet how was I gonna tell her that I just lost my boyfriend to the asshole that had been tormenting us for the past week? I sighed and called out to her.
"Okay mom, I'll be down in a bit."
I pulled myself off of the bed and looked at my eyes in the mirror. They had gotten too swollen to wear the contacts, so I had to put those damn thick glasses back on. David's words echoed in my head as I looked at myself: 'Total geek and three parts dork'. I made my way downstairs to join my family; I could feel their eyes on me. They knew something was wrong, but how could I tell them? God, I needed someone to talk to; someone to listen to me. I just sat down and ate in silence, nodding or giving the appropriate answer when any question came my way.
Dinner ended uneventfully, thank goodness. I think I would have snapped if one more question were asked. This is something else; why have I become so violent lately? I closed my eyes as the fear in David's face passed through my mind. I sat there hugging myself, the guilt doubly strong at the thought that I had made him feel that fear twice. The tears came back; sleep followed them long, long after.
"Honey, wake up. One of your school friends is here!" chirped my mom.
I looked over at my clock and wondered two things: one, how can anyone be so annoyingly chirpy at 8 in the morning, and two, what school kid in his right mind would be up at 8 o'clock on a Saturday morning? I rubbed my eyes and called out to my mom on the other side of the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's David, William."
Her reply sent a chill down my spine. Part of me was happy, part of me was furious. And even another part of me afraid. I called out that I would be down in a bit.
I think subconsciously I tried my best to take as long as I could getting ready in hopes that he would just give up and leave. But there he was in the kitchen, eating toast and drinking juice with my mom. She is such a good hostess. I looked at him. He looked at me. I tried my best to read him, but it was no use; my emotions were too raw. I managed to get out a few commonplace words through a locked jaw.
"Hello David. How are you this morning?"
I think my mom could feel the tension in the air; she quickly got her coffee and the morning paper and left. I kept my eyes on him as I stood in the doorway.
"What are you doing here?"
He sat there for a while not moving; he actually looked like a deer caught in headlights. I must admit part of me enjoyed how I could produce that much fear in him, but for the most part it hurt me to know that we had come to this.
"Will... look, Will..." I watched as he paused. "Look, Will, I still care for you as a friend. I know this hurts you; it hurts me too. But I saw a side of you I didn't like and I saw a side of Josh that I didn't know existed. I can't explain how my heart works, but it's telling me to be with Josh. I'm sorry, Will."
I watched as he tilted his head down. My mind was reeling; I wanted to go hurt him as bad as he had just hurt me. I had given him my heart, and this is what he had done with it. He had used me and then discarded me as soon as that high school jock showed him some affection. I could feel the redness boiling into my face and my fists starting to clench. I knew things were gonna get ugly. But as much as he had hurt me, as much as I hated him, I couldn't fight with him again. I used what shreds of my heart I had left and spoke.
"Get out. Just get out now," I said through clenched teeth.
"But Will, we need to talk this out."
I took in a breath and spoke again. "David, I will not tell you again. Leave now before I do something we both will regret."
I stood there and stared at him coldly. He could tell I was serious, and I could almost smell the fear in him as he slowly stood and backed away. Moments later I could hear the sound of that Trans Am pulling out of the driveway.
The rest of the weekend was a blur. I was either crying or punching something. It started to come to a boil when I snapped at my mother. The next thing I knew, my father was in my bedroom. He looked more intimidating than usual. We had a stern talk; rather, he talked and I just replied with "yes sir." He went through his normal spiel about respect, about coming to them when I had a problem, about not being to old to be put across his knee, and then the famous closing of all of his talks, the threat of military school. When he finally finished, my punishment was immediate bedtime. I wondered how much more pathetic my life could become.
I woke up on Monday morning and went through my usual dull routine, but the anger and pain were still there. I couldn't shake them; it was as if each was feeding off the other in a vicious cycle. I arrived at school and secretly prayed that I wouldn't run into either Josh or David. My day was actually going smoothly until lunch when Craig showed up. If Josh were famous because he was a jock, Craig would be the only one that could rival his fame.
Oh, Craig wasn't a jock; he was very much the opposite. He was the meanest, toughest, and generally most hated bully since sixth grade. Even a few adults were afraid of him. The only reason he ever passed a grade was cause no teacher wanted to have to deal with him another year. He decided that I was overdue for some torment. It started with the regular tripping and other pranks. Now, everyone knew that the best way to deal with Craig is to do nothing at all. He would soon get tired of you and leave you alone.
"Hey, Little Willie, you think you aren't a nerd now cause you don't wear your glasses anymore? Well, guess what? You still are!"
I couldn't take it today. Maybe it was all the anger that I had built up against David and Josh. I don't know. The next thing I knew, Craig and I were on the ground trading blows. I was able to take him by surprise. He wasn't expecting someone with about 30 pounds less muscle to come flying over a table at him. I was doing well, but even I knew the tide was starting to turn as someone in the crowd hollered out, "Teacher!" We were pulled apart. I came out with a bloody nose, and from what I could tell so did Craig, and from the looks of it the start of a black eye too. We were sent to the Vice-principal's office while a teacher collected our books from the lunchroom.
Mr. Parker's standard sentence: a three-day suspension for both us. Fuck! Military school, here I come!
When I got home my mom was waiting for me. She was pissed. It's scary to see her pissed. I think I get my temper from her and not my dad. She let loose with countless questions and remarks, never giving me a chance to speak. Finally she paused, and gave me a chance.
"Well, young man, what do you have to say for yourself?"
I sat there and stared at her. I was trying hard not to get angry, but her words had cut deeper into my already raw nerves. I didn't want it to come out this way, but out it came anyway, shrilly, briefly, fatally.
"You wanna know what's wrong? Your precious little boy is a faggot! He just got dumped by someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with for a stupid damn jock!"
To say that she was left speechless would be a lie. But after she'd made a few brief, rambling attempts to start a response, I could tell that somehow she'd already guessed something. She stopped trying to speak, and just got up and left the table. There I was, left alone, at 1 in the afternoon, after having just told my mom the biggest secret in my life. Funny thing is I felt better; some of the weight of my life had been lifted. I got up and went upstairs with my backpack. I threw it on the floor and just collapsed on my bed and used the precious moment of silence in my head to rest.
It took me a few minutes to register the soft knocking at the door and the equally soft voice.
"William? William? It's your mother; can I come in to talk?"
I sighed and looked over at my clock. I had slept for two hours, which meant that it would be another three hours before anyone else would be home. I looked at the door and knew it was time to pay the piper.
"Yeah."
She entered softly and I could tell she had been crying. God, it made me feel like shit to know that I had caused her to cry. It seemed that I was causing everyone I cared for pain. She sat on the edge of my bed and patted the place beside her. I obeyed and scooted over to her. I was shocked at what came next. Without warning she wrapped both arms around me and hugged me tight as she cried. I don't know what it was, but I hugged her back just as tightly and cried too. That was another thing I seemed to be doing a lot of lately.
We stayed like that for a while, and than she spoke. Her voice was low, but her words were caring.
"William, I have carried you in me, held you in my arms, and I am watching you enter into manhood. I had so many plans for you, but now those are gone. No matter what, I love you and will always love you. I don't understand this, but I am willing to learn. You are my baby and I will always see you as that: my beautiful baby boy."
I cried a bit more as her hand stroked my cheek. We discussed a lot in those three hours. We discussed how we should break this to dad and my siblings, how long I'd known about this, many other things, but most importantly we discussed my ex-boyfriend. My mom confessed that David hadn't just shown up on Saturday; she had actually called him over hoping that he would cheer me up. She apologized and chuckled a bit at that error. She gave me some food for thought, I must admit, and I would like to think I did the same for her. We both agreed that my father had a right to know, but we had no clue as to how he would take it.
Finally 6 o'clock rolled around. My dad had a routine when he came home: kiss my mom, discuss their day, greet all of his kids and discuss his day and their day, take a shower, come out dressed in jeans and t-shirt, watch the end of the news, have dinner, and then spend family time with all of us. Well, leave it to me to throw a monkey wrench into all that! Before the shower, my mom cornered him in the kitchen and told him that she, he, and I needed to have a long talk now. I could read my dad like a book; I was convinced he figured I had smarted off to her again and this was the last straw.
We closed the doors to the kitchen and began. Well, I would like to say it went as smoothly as it had with my mom, but that would be a lie. At first, my dad was furious at me and then furious at mom. He actually blamed her. The emotional temperature was soaring, but like I said, my mom was a woman with a temper. At the ice in her eye and in her voice, he cooled off quickly and retracted that part. Then, he looked at me and I looked back at him. I could see the rift beginning between us. He just got up and walked out of the room. I would love to say that in a few hours he and I had the same heart-warming talk that mom and I had had, but we didn't speak any more that night.
I think it was around midnight when I gave up on any attempts at sleep. Too much had happened today. I had gotten into a fight with the school's biggest bully, who was going to probably kill me; I had just told both of my parents I was gay and only one of them was taking it well; and to top it off, my mom made me start to question my love for David. Should I maybe even be happy for him and Josh? Or should I try my best to win him back? I just shook my head on that last thought. I moved over to my backpack, and started to search for the book we were supposed to be reading for English. Reading always gets me sleepy. I continued to look through my backpack for it. I just couldn't find it. I started to get impatient, so I just dumped my backpack upside down. A very nice-looking leather bound book came tumbling out. I looked at if for a while; I already knew it wasn't mine. I picked it up and started to thumb through it. And the more I looked, the more my jaw dropped.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing: page after page of gorgeous sketches of men and teens, all nude, some very erotic, some fantasy, and some a mixture of both. They could put Da Vinci and Michelangelo to shame. The men were sketched with such finely detailed muscles that they looked as though they were about to move on the page. As if that wasn't enough, a few had poetry with them. Now, poetry is my secret passion; I love it, and love poems are my greatest weakness. One of them stood out above all.
"There is a darkness in all of us. Some try to hide from it; some embrace it, most try to fight it, but all do these in vain. The darkness cannot be denied and cannot be embraced, yet I find myself like a frightened child each day doing the best I can to hold onto it, cause I am afraid of the truth. I know the truth is that I must seek out the light. The light of love is nothing without the darkness of loneliness, and the darkness of loneliness is only there to serve as a reminder of how powerful love is and to be the drive for me to seek out the light."
My eyes continued to scan that page over and over. Then it hit me. If my draw hadn't dropped before, it certainly did this time. There was a drawing of two young men on that page, nude and embracing each other as their hard cocks leaked and rubbed against each other. They were kissing each other passionately. But what shocked me was that one of them looked a lot like Craig. The other was also obviously me!
The hard on in my pants argued strenuously against my mind and heart. My cock was thrilled that it knew a secret about Craig, that he fantasized about me. My heart wondered if it could care for Craig or not. And my mind warned both that this was the guy who would surely kill me after our three-day suspension was up. There was no way I was going to be sleeping this night.