82 messages
A story about a thirteen year old boy who just wants his life to make sense and break free the bonds of his Christian town and strict mother.
Couldn’t Do It Alone…
Chapter 1: Uncle Rich’s Funeral.
Today was my birthday. It was also the day of my Uncle Rich’s funeral. I hardly knew him. My birthday did not really matter. Despite turning thirteen only happened once and having the pleasure of not wearing a tacky and itchy new suit. My Aunt Gladys had picked it. The moment she saw me within the suit she had tears in her eyes and said I was the splitting image of Uncle Rich. Apparently, it was the same kind of orange plaited suit Uncle Rich used to wear. The moment my Aunt had said that I resembled Uncle Rich in the suit, I had an image of Uncle Rich wearing the same kind of suit in his coffin. I shuddered at the thought, not wanting to resemble a dead person, relative or not.
My mum practically had to drag me on the way to the car to attend the funeral at the town church. I put up a great struggle but eventually gave up. On the way, I kept fiddling with my orange bow tie. The high collar kept on threatening to strangle me and I kept on scratching, which only made the itchiness worse.
“Don’t fiddle with it, Henry,” stated my mother in a disapproving manner as she kept on driving.
Huffing slightly, I crossed my arms in a disgruntled manner and glanced out the window.
(to be continued...)
Couldn’t Do It Alone…
Chapter 1: Uncle Rich’s Funeral.
Today was my birthday. It was also the day of my Uncle Rich’s funeral. I hardly knew him. My birthday did not really matter. Despite turning thirteen only happened once and having the pleasure of not wearing a tacky and itchy new suit. My Aunt Gladys had picked it. The moment she saw me within the suit she had tears in her eyes and said I was the splitting image of Uncle Rich. Apparently, it was the same kind of orange plaited suit Uncle Rich used to wear. The moment my Aunt had said that I resembled Uncle Rich in the suit, I had an image of Uncle Rich wearing the same kind of suit in his coffin. I shuddered at the thought, not wanting to resemble a dead person, relative or not.
My mum practically had to drag me on the way to the car to attend the funeral at the town church. I put up a great struggle but eventually gave up. On the way, I kept fiddling with my orange bow tie. The high collar kept on threatening to strangle me and I kept on scratching, which only made the itchiness worse.
“Don’t fiddle with it, Henry,” stated my mother in a disapproving manner as she kept on driving.
Huffing slightly, I crossed my arms in a disgruntled manner and glanced out the window.
(to be continued...)
12/82
Story time is always the best!
13/82
(part 7)
I know I’ll never wear this suit again because it was practically killing me.
After waiting for what seemed like forever, I glanced out the window to see my mum saying farewell to Brother David as he walked back nearer to the entrance of the church.
My mum hurried back to the car and got in after kicking the car on the side of where I was sitting. It was closer to the engine so I hardly felt it, besides, I had gotten used to it after so many times. Going round the front of the car to the other side, my mum opened her car door and hastily got into the driver seat. She shoved me back in my seat as Brother David’s back was still turned.
Brother David turned and waved at us, his face still displaying that false grin. His black robe flowed slightly as he was waving to us.
My mother smiled her false smile and waved back, ignoring my irritated look at her after she had shoved me aside so she was able to get a better view of Brother David.
I crossed my arms, trying not to think about the itchy sweater or about my mother’s disgusting display.
Turning the car key, my mother revved the engine slightly, it was not a nice silent engine but as stated earlier, it got us where we needed to go. It was only until we were out of the range of the church that my mother put her eyes on the road.
(to be continued...)
I know I’ll never wear this suit again because it was practically killing me.
After waiting for what seemed like forever, I glanced out the window to see my mum saying farewell to Brother David as he walked back nearer to the entrance of the church.
My mum hurried back to the car and got in after kicking the car on the side of where I was sitting. It was closer to the engine so I hardly felt it, besides, I had gotten used to it after so many times. Going round the front of the car to the other side, my mum opened her car door and hastily got into the driver seat. She shoved me back in my seat as Brother David’s back was still turned.
Brother David turned and waved at us, his face still displaying that false grin. His black robe flowed slightly as he was waving to us.
My mother smiled her false smile and waved back, ignoring my irritated look at her after she had shoved me aside so she was able to get a better view of Brother David.
I crossed my arms, trying not to think about the itchy sweater or about my mother’s disgusting display.
Turning the car key, my mother revved the engine slightly, it was not a nice silent engine but as stated earlier, it got us where we needed to go. It was only until we were out of the range of the church that my mother put her eyes on the road.
(to be continued...)
14/82
(part 8 )
It was a quiet ride home, my mother and I didn’t talk. We were not very good at communicating ever since my Dad had left us five years ago. The only time we even talked on the way was when she told me not to fiddle with my suit again.
I did not complain for there was no point in it. Glancing at my mother, I could tell from that look on her face she was in no mood to argue with me. I knew what she was thinking…she was wondering if Dad was going to come to my birthday again. He usually came bearing a present or other over the last five years. Despite smiling like an idiot each time, I knew these were hollow gifts. I was not as stupid as he thought I was when I was younger.
After parking, my mother got out of the car after unbuckling her seatbelt and slammed the door after she got out. Now, I Don’t know exactly why she was so pissed off, but I think it had to do with the fact dad’s car was parked in front of us.
That was when I heard his voice.
“Ah, Caroline. Glad to see you again,” stated my dad with a false smile. He was his usual slimy self, I didn’t know wether my mum got it from him or he got it from her, but smugness seemed to run in my “family” unfortunately.
(to be continued...)
It was a quiet ride home, my mother and I didn’t talk. We were not very good at communicating ever since my Dad had left us five years ago. The only time we even talked on the way was when she told me not to fiddle with my suit again.
I did not complain for there was no point in it. Glancing at my mother, I could tell from that look on her face she was in no mood to argue with me. I knew what she was thinking…she was wondering if Dad was going to come to my birthday again. He usually came bearing a present or other over the last five years. Despite smiling like an idiot each time, I knew these were hollow gifts. I was not as stupid as he thought I was when I was younger.
After parking, my mother got out of the car after unbuckling her seatbelt and slammed the door after she got out. Now, I Don’t know exactly why she was so pissed off, but I think it had to do with the fact dad’s car was parked in front of us.
That was when I heard his voice.
“Ah, Caroline. Glad to see you again,” stated my dad with a false smile. He was his usual slimy self, I didn’t know wether my mum got it from him or he got it from her, but smugness seemed to run in my “family” unfortunately.
(to be continued...)
15/82
(part 9)
He stood by our front door, wearing his blue denim suit, which he only wore for special occasions. It made him look tacky, but I had enough sympathy for him not to tell him every time I saw him on my birthday. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, smooth-faced and brown hair slicked back with what I assumed was crude oil.
The man formally my Dad was a man with no need for work, yet he somehow managed to get by without us.
I did not have a lot of respect for him, because he was the one who left Mum in the first place. But, I secretly knew that it only made matters worse when my mum had a wandering eye (and other things) when other men were around.
My mum did not take this greeting well. I practically felt the need for her to smack him if I was not present.
“Hello, Mitch, it has been a while,” responded my mum in a curt manner.
By this time I had gotten out of the car and walked over to the two. I saw my Dad look at mum with a wry but meaningful smile and then he looked at me.
“Hey, slugger. So, how you doing?” my dad asked me in an overly chirpy voice.
‘Geez, could ya be more obvious?’ I thought and mentally rolled my eyes but did not express any emotion on the outside.
“He’s doing fine, Mitch,” snapped my mother suddenly before I had a chance to respond.
‘Oh great, here they go again,’ I thought to myself.
My dad seemed to tense slightly then smiled again.
(to be continued...)
He stood by our front door, wearing his blue denim suit, which he only wore for special occasions. It made him look tacky, but I had enough sympathy for him not to tell him every time I saw him on my birthday. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, smooth-faced and brown hair slicked back with what I assumed was crude oil.
The man formally my Dad was a man with no need for work, yet he somehow managed to get by without us.
I did not have a lot of respect for him, because he was the one who left Mum in the first place. But, I secretly knew that it only made matters worse when my mum had a wandering eye (and other things) when other men were around.
My mum did not take this greeting well. I practically felt the need for her to smack him if I was not present.
“Hello, Mitch, it has been a while,” responded my mum in a curt manner.
By this time I had gotten out of the car and walked over to the two. I saw my Dad look at mum with a wry but meaningful smile and then he looked at me.
“Hey, slugger. So, how you doing?” my dad asked me in an overly chirpy voice.
‘Geez, could ya be more obvious?’ I thought and mentally rolled my eyes but did not express any emotion on the outside.
“He’s doing fine, Mitch,” snapped my mother suddenly before I had a chance to respond.
‘Oh great, here they go again,’ I thought to myself.
My dad seemed to tense slightly then smiled again.
(to be continued...)
16/82
(part 10)
“Henry, would you give me a moment with your mum? Your present is inside,” he stated to me in that fake “everything-is-fine” voice.
I nodded, giving my mum a quick glance and could tell she also wanted me gone. I wasn’t stupid, but on occasion it was best to play dumb to stay out of the line of fire.
I wandered inside, shutting the door behind me. Even with the door closed I could hear the angered voices coming from outside.
Shaking my head in disgust, I left the Hallway and made my way to the Kitchen. I felt the need for a drink. If I were older, I probably would have grabbed a beer, but since I knew my mum would be angry if I tried that, I merely decided to have some orange juice.
Using the footstool because I was too short to get over the overtly large counter-top, I started pouring out some orange juice from a jug into a glass.
As I was pouring, the glass door that led out to the lawn opened. As I looked up, I lost my train of thought. In front of me stood a woman wearing a bathing costume. She looked gorgeous, with her golden hair in the sunlight and her brown eyes looking at me with kindness. I was at a loss for words, my mouth hanging open slightly as I tried to tear my eyes away from her.
I re-gained my senses as the juice over-flowed and spilled to the floor.
“Oh, sh*t!” I exclaimed, getting off the footstool and trying to clear up the mess.
(to be continued...)
“Henry, would you give me a moment with your mum? Your present is inside,” he stated to me in that fake “everything-is-fine” voice.
I nodded, giving my mum a quick glance and could tell she also wanted me gone. I wasn’t stupid, but on occasion it was best to play dumb to stay out of the line of fire.
I wandered inside, shutting the door behind me. Even with the door closed I could hear the angered voices coming from outside.
Shaking my head in disgust, I left the Hallway and made my way to the Kitchen. I felt the need for a drink. If I were older, I probably would have grabbed a beer, but since I knew my mum would be angry if I tried that, I merely decided to have some orange juice.
Using the footstool because I was too short to get over the overtly large counter-top, I started pouring out some orange juice from a jug into a glass.
As I was pouring, the glass door that led out to the lawn opened. As I looked up, I lost my train of thought. In front of me stood a woman wearing a bathing costume. She looked gorgeous, with her golden hair in the sunlight and her brown eyes looking at me with kindness. I was at a loss for words, my mouth hanging open slightly as I tried to tear my eyes away from her.
I re-gained my senses as the juice over-flowed and spilled to the floor.
“Oh, sh*t!” I exclaimed, getting off the footstool and trying to clear up the mess.
(to be continued...)
17/82
(part 11)
The woman came in and wandered around the counter to where I was. I glanced up at her and she was smiling.
“Hi there! My name’s Claire. Do you need help clearing that up?” she seemed really concerned. For a split second the words were muted to my ears.
But, then I re-gained my composure…mostly.
“Uhh, no thanks. I mean…my name is Henry. Thanks for offering, though,” I stated, stumbling over my words slightly as I glanced back down and mopped up the rest of the juice with the cloth.
I felt like an utter dweeb, having to mop up orange juice while wearing my tacky orange suit. But, I soon got over that as I stood up properly and glanced up at the woman called Claire.
It was slightly daunting, my eyes if looking forward would only reach her belly button. I was slightly embarrassed that I had to glance up at her.
But Claire did not seem to mind. In fact she bent down to my height so she could look me in the eyes.
“So, has your father told you about me yet?” she asked with the smile still playing upon her lips.
I slowly shook my head, feeling a right fool to have a grown-up like Claire speak down at my level. Most adults looked down at me like I was a horrid little thing, besides my Aunt Gladys, who thought my small stature was in her words “adorable”.
Claire seemed to sigh and stood up again, her smile on her face being replaced with a frown.
(to be continued...)
The woman came in and wandered around the counter to where I was. I glanced up at her and she was smiling.
“Hi there! My name’s Claire. Do you need help clearing that up?” she seemed really concerned. For a split second the words were muted to my ears.
But, then I re-gained my composure…mostly.
“Uhh, no thanks. I mean…my name is Henry. Thanks for offering, though,” I stated, stumbling over my words slightly as I glanced back down and mopped up the rest of the juice with the cloth.
I felt like an utter dweeb, having to mop up orange juice while wearing my tacky orange suit. But, I soon got over that as I stood up properly and glanced up at the woman called Claire.
It was slightly daunting, my eyes if looking forward would only reach her belly button. I was slightly embarrassed that I had to glance up at her.
But Claire did not seem to mind. In fact she bent down to my height so she could look me in the eyes.
“So, has your father told you about me yet?” she asked with the smile still playing upon her lips.
I slowly shook my head, feeling a right fool to have a grown-up like Claire speak down at my level. Most adults looked down at me like I was a horrid little thing, besides my Aunt Gladys, who thought my small stature was in her words “adorable”.
Claire seemed to sigh and stood up again, her smile on her face being replaced with a frown.
(to be continued...)
18/82
(part 12)
“I’m sorry, I assumed he told you,” she stated just before we both heard the front door slam and mum and dad entered from the hallway.
It diverted my attention from what Claire had said and I wasn’t able to think as my mum started talking.
“Mitch, who is this?” my mum asked dad with a somewhat sour look upon her face.
Dad seemed to cough lightly and then went past mum walking over to where Claire stood beside me. He draped an arm over her shoulder in a loving way.
“This is Claire. We are engaged to be married,” stated dad cheerfully.
“WHAT?” shouted out mum and me simultaneously, though mum’s voice was louder then mine so I wouldn’t, thankfully, need to explain why I shouted out.
It was because I had a slight crush on Claire, though if you’d torture me I’d never admit to it. True I only knew her for a few minutes, but it was like something had a hold of me, something I couldn’t explain.
My mum was obviously angry because of how dad had left her for a younger woman, he obviously had not changed his ways.
My dad did not seem disturbed by the way my mum reacted.
I took a quick glance at Claire and noticed she looked slightly thoughtful. I wondered what she was thinking until my dad stated something else.
“We are getting married by the end of the year,” he announced calmly.
I glanced down, not wanting to look at my dad or Claire any longer. Four months, they were getting married in four months…
(to be continued...)
“I’m sorry, I assumed he told you,” she stated just before we both heard the front door slam and mum and dad entered from the hallway.
It diverted my attention from what Claire had said and I wasn’t able to think as my mum started talking.
“Mitch, who is this?” my mum asked dad with a somewhat sour look upon her face.
Dad seemed to cough lightly and then went past mum walking over to where Claire stood beside me. He draped an arm over her shoulder in a loving way.
“This is Claire. We are engaged to be married,” stated dad cheerfully.
“WHAT?” shouted out mum and me simultaneously, though mum’s voice was louder then mine so I wouldn’t, thankfully, need to explain why I shouted out.
It was because I had a slight crush on Claire, though if you’d torture me I’d never admit to it. True I only knew her for a few minutes, but it was like something had a hold of me, something I couldn’t explain.
My mum was obviously angry because of how dad had left her for a younger woman, he obviously had not changed his ways.
My dad did not seem disturbed by the way my mum reacted.
I took a quick glance at Claire and noticed she looked slightly thoughtful. I wondered what she was thinking until my dad stated something else.
“We are getting married by the end of the year,” he announced calmly.
I glanced down, not wanting to look at my dad or Claire any longer. Four months, they were getting married in four months…
(to be continued...)
19/82
(part 13)
I didn’t know what to think. All I knew was that I had mumbled an excuse to leave and wandered out into the hallway. I knew in my heart this day would come, but I just wasn’t ready for it. I started walking up the stairs but then stopped halfway, leaning against the wall for support. Sliding down slowly, I hardly acknowledged my mother’s raised voice but could hear what she was shouting.
“My god, Mitch, is she even legal??” were my mother’s words.
Suddenly, I heard somebody say my name.
“Henry?”
I snapped out of it and glanced at who was speaking. It was Claire. She must have come in from the Kitchen after my mum yelled that to her and my dad. The door to the kitchen was shut, the door muffled my parents arguing.
Claire was at the bottom of the stairway, leaning on the banister.
“Henry, are you okay?” she asked me with a concerned voice.
I didn’t know how to respond, my thoughts were conflicting each other.
“I…I’m fine,” I muttered, knowing it was a lie, not only to Claire but to myself as well.
She seemed to see through this, but then again I wasn’t really trying to hide how I felt about everything. Claire stopped leaning against the banister and came up the stairs, sitting beside me on the step I was on.
(to be continued...)
I didn’t know what to think. All I knew was that I had mumbled an excuse to leave and wandered out into the hallway. I knew in my heart this day would come, but I just wasn’t ready for it. I started walking up the stairs but then stopped halfway, leaning against the wall for support. Sliding down slowly, I hardly acknowledged my mother’s raised voice but could hear what she was shouting.
“My god, Mitch, is she even legal??” were my mother’s words.
Suddenly, I heard somebody say my name.
“Henry?”
I snapped out of it and glanced at who was speaking. It was Claire. She must have come in from the Kitchen after my mum yelled that to her and my dad. The door to the kitchen was shut, the door muffled my parents arguing.
Claire was at the bottom of the stairway, leaning on the banister.
“Henry, are you okay?” she asked me with a concerned voice.
I didn’t know how to respond, my thoughts were conflicting each other.
“I…I’m fine,” I muttered, knowing it was a lie, not only to Claire but to myself as well.
She seemed to see through this, but then again I wasn’t really trying to hide how I felt about everything. Claire stopped leaning against the banister and came up the stairs, sitting beside me on the step I was on.
(to be continued...)
The Urban Rivals team is made by lovers of all kind of Collectibles Cards Games and Trading Cards Games like: Magic the Gathering, Dominion, Vampire, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Pokemon, Wakfu TCG, Assassin Creed Recollection, Shadow Era, Kard Kombat and Might & Magic Duel of Champions.