Everything here is copy/pasted from Google docs, and I have ponify on. So, this is actually going to sound liek a pony story, but it's not. It's a human story. It's about 6,000 woirds for the first three chapters, but reviews are always appreciated and such.
David put the silver barrel in his mouth, rotating it occasionally from side to side. If he was smart, he would have pulled the trigger right then and there, but for some reason, an overpowering feeling of cowardice came over him, preventing him from doing anything more than pointless rotating, feeling the cool metal against his warm mouth. A tear rolled down his cheek as he put the gun back under his bed, the familiar feeling of defeat, misery, and agony welling up in his throat yet again. He slumped down on the floor, letting his tears soak the carpet yet again as he contemplatively stared at the gun he’d stolen from his father less than a week ago. He’d been fed up with this world recently, and ending it all was the only viable solution he had.
“David?” he heard a voice call from downstairs. His father, no doubt. David barely managed to choke out more than a whisper, not nearly enough for his father to hear him. His father called out again, louder.
“Don’t make me come up there!” he shouted, sending cold shivers down David’s spine. He frantically searched within himself for the strength to yell out beyond his closed door down the stairs. He merely croaked, yet again. As he expected, the heart-stopping thud of his father marching up the stairs rang out, nearly in slow-motion, as the dreaded silence happened right outside his door. David looked at it in fear as it swung open violently, revealing David’s father, a belt in one hand, a beer in the other. He took a swig from the bottle, the alcohol on his breath clearly apparent as he let out a small burp, still staring David down.
“Alright, you little shit.” he said, starting to stumble towards David. David closed his eyes as the familiar lash of the belt stung his skin anywhere it could reach. His face, his arms, his sides...and all David could do was curl up in the fetal position and stare at the gun under his bed until he lost consciousness from the beatings.
David heard the familiar BZZ BZZ BZZ of his alarm clock, letting him know it was time to wash away the blood and fake a smile for the day. He slowly opened his eyes, the morning sun casting a blinding glare. He slowly rolled over, pushing himself up to a standing position. He slowly limped over to his alarm clock, turning it off, before limping to his shower.
He turned the shower on, turning the dial, standing back in hopes the water would actually heat up this time. It was a gamble each morning, one he often lost. As he stepped into the shower, he soon figured out that today would not be his lucky day. He cringed, and stared down at his feet, seeing the water run red, just like his favorite bible story. He cautiously rubbed himself, trying to avoid the pain, to no avail. He rubbed until the water was clear, drying himself off just as cautiously, dressing in whatever season-inappropriate attire hid the bruises best. He gently slid into his sneakers, the sole worn out, making a comical flapping sound whenever he took a step. He hoisted up his ripped up backpack, in which he hoped his schoolwork was in. He silently snuck out of his room, down the stairs, and out the front door, doing his best to make sure he didn’t wake up his dad, who would be cranky from a hangover.
The yellow bus pulled up in the distance. The doors stopped right in front of him, opening up to the familiar face of Hope, the bus driver. She gave him a joyful smile, as she gave everyone. David half-heartedly returned that smile, an unfamiliar gesture to him as he stared through the bus looking for a spot. He sighed, taking the first seat, closest to the bus driver, who reeked of tobacco. She closed the doors, driving to the school, as David was the last stop on the route.
“So how ya doin, David?” she asked, as she asked every morning.
“The day’s just started. It’s too early to tell.” he replied, as he replied every morning. Hope gave a small chuckle, blowing cigarette smoke outside of the bus window. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get in trouble for that. David was pretty sure that was illegal, but Hope was just too happy about life for him to ruin that.
“Yeah...” she said, breaking his thought process. “I guess it is.” she finished, flicking the butt out the window. “Say...why are you wearing long sleeves? It’s 97 degrees outside, son!”
“I get cold easily.” he said, suddenly growing self-conscious about his bruises.
“Mhm.” Hope moaned, giving him that ‘I know you’re lying’ glance. She put her face forward, watching the road. David looked out the window, seeing the school in the distance.
‘Saved by the bell.’ he thought to himself. The bus stopped motion and he unloaded.
“See you later, David!” Hope joyously called out. He gave her a gentle wave and disappeared into the crowds of his school, headed for the nurse’s office.
Nurse Cross watched the door. David came in every morning, like clockwork, and once she heard the familiar sound of the bus engines roaring off, she knew to get bandages out. Sure enough, he limped his way in.
“So what happened this time, David?” she inquired, giving him a stern glance.
“I fell down the stairs at Seaworld. It was the wet zone. Yeah. Anyways, both my parents worked all night last night, so I didn’t get a chance to do anything more than wash these.”
“Uh huh.” she said, getting an alcohol pad, getting ready to scrub his arms. “When you’re ready to tell me what’s REALLY going on, let me know.”
“It’s the truth, I swear!” he said, rolling his sleeves up, wincing as she pressed on his bruises. She sighed, pulling his sleeves back down. She gently held his hand, staring deep into his eyes.
“David...these kind of bruises don’t happen by falling down stairs. You’re not alright.”
“I’m fine.” he said sternly, jerking his hand away from hers. He picked his backup up off the ground, leaving the office, towards his first class. The nurse shook her head and sighed heavily. It looked like tonight was the night.
David trudged through the halls, hands clenched in his pocket. He knew Big Johnny would be waiting for him...it was only a matter of time. He kept his head down low, refusing to look at anyone on his way to class.
“Hey, Gayvid!” he heard that familiar voice shout. David subconsciously froze, a small stutter step nearly making him trip. He started to walk on again, pretending as if he didn’t hear him, when suddenly, a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, slamming him back into some lockers behind him. “Oh, you didn’t fuckin’ hear me?” Big Johnny snarled, his rotting, yellow teeth nearly making David gag.
“I guess not. I was just so focused on getting to class, but you wouldn’t understand that.”
“Whatever. You got my money?” he added, slamming David’s back up against the lockers.
“Oh. Money. Um...” he paused, pretending to check his pockets. He felt the 5 dollar bill, the last he had for the rest of the week for food. “I guess I forgot it at home. If it’s any consolation, I won’t be eating because of it.”
“Yeah...” added big Johnny, punching David in the stomach, making him fall back down on the floor. David held himself in the fetal position, coughing, a wave of nausea coming over him. “You won’t be eating today, for sure.” he added, motioning to his group of friends. They chuckled at his misfortune, scampering off to class. David lay there coughing, trying to take in small breaths of air after it was knocked out of him.
“Oh, you poor thing!” said a female voice from above him. He opened his eyes to see a rather beautiful girl looking down on him in pity. She knelt down, offering her hand to him. He looked at it curiously, wondering what she wanted, before looking at her face. She gave him a soft smile, peering down at him through a very beautiful set of blue eyes, as deep as a lake. Freckles lightly dotted her nose, and her long blonde hair draped over her shoulders. She flung it back with her hand before offering it to him again. “Well?”
He put his hand inside hers, as she pulled him up to a standing position. He looked into those eyes of hers, lost in the moment. She lightly blushed.
“So...why were you on the floor?” she asked, tilting her head sideways a bit.
“Why do you have a black eye? Did someone hit you?” she exclaimed, getting worried. “Oh, no! Tell me who did this! We have to go to the Principal!”
“It doesn’t matter.” he stated, looking away from her.
“Yes it does! Someone hurt you! Please go tell the principal! They can put him in alternative school for a little bit!”
“But then he’ll just get me again. Besides, I’ve gotten used to it. It doesn’t matter.”
“But...” she started, before a loud bell run in the hallways. “Drats! I’m late for class. Oh, dear. Anyways, I’m Sarah. Sarah Faith.”
“I’m David. David Fathom.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, David. Anyways, I need to get to class.” she said, starting to walk away from him. He felt her hand slip away from his, unaware that he had been holding her hand through the entire conversation. “Hopefully I’ll see you later.” she added, giving him a sweet smile. He tried his hardest to return it, managing only to give her a haphazard smirk.
“David?” he heard a voice behind him say. He turned around, seeing his teacher with an unamused look, holding the door open for him. “Whenever you’re done romancing, I’d rather you be here on time.”
“Yes, sir.” he said. He walked towards the door, turning around one last time, but Sarah was already gone. He sighed, taking his seat in class.
The final school bell rang, releasing massive throngs of schoolkids to their typical locations, whether it be to the buses, to their friends, or to their cars. David casually walked down the halls, thinking about Sarah. Why was she nice to him? Nobody else in that school even acknowledged he existed, other than Big Johnny, who beat him up for no real reason. What did she see in him that they didn’t?
He headed out the front door, heading off to his bus. He kept his head low as usual, not really paying attention to where he was going. With the things he was thinking about Sarah, he wasn’t paying much attention anyway. He soon felt his progress halt as he bumped into someone.
“Excuse me, sorry.” he said, sidestepping. The person blocked his path again, making David look up at him. Big Johnny stared him down, cracking his knuckles.
“So, I heard you’ve been talkin’ to my gal.” he scowled, folding his arms.
“Yeah. Cute little blonde? Sarah?”
“Oh, no, not really, she talked to me.”
“Bullshit.” he said, starting to walk towards David, who backtracked, looking side to side for an escape route.
“Kick his ass, Johnny!” said one of Johnny’s henchman.
“Kick the little faggot’s ass!”
“You know what? Maybe I will.” he said, smiling at David. David turned tail and ran backwards, running straight into one of Johnny’s gang, who grabbed his arm tightly, spinning him around, holding him in place. David watched in terror as Johnny slowly walked towards him, a large crowd gathering around them. David hung his head low, a tear streaming down his cheek, before feeling the punch on his left side, knocking him straight out of the arms of whoever was holding him. He landed face first on the ground, motionless, as he saw a foot kick his face, making the world around him go black.
David heard muffled voices as he came to.
“WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” yelled a female voice. Was that Sarah?
“Guy said somethin’ bad about you, baby!” he heard Big johnny say.
“No! No he didn’t! And I’m not your girl! What the heck, Hayden?”
“Johnny. My name’s Johnny.” he said angrily.
“No it’s not. This Johnny thing is a lie, Hayden.”
David managed to open his eyes just enough to see him slap her, making her falter to the ground right next to him. She held her cheek, looking at Johnny. Johnny took a step back in fear.
“Oh, fuck, the Principal!” one of them shouted, making all of them turn tail and flee. Sarah looked behind her, starting a conversation with him as David tried to roll himself over. One of his glasses lens was broken, little bits of glass still stuck on that side of his face.
“What happened here?” asked Mr. Lopez, the Principal.
He sighed heavily, shaking his head. He bent down to David, looking down at his injuries. “Looks like he got you pretty bad. C’mon, let’s get you to a hospital. I’ll be doing what I can to transfer him out of here. I’ve had it with him.”
“He could have killed David!” said Sarah, putting a hand on Lopez’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t the police be involved?”
“I’ll look into it, but for now, he needs medical treatment more than anything.”
“...no...” David barely managed to choke out, managing to sit up from the pain.
“David! David, I’m so sorry!” said Sarah, bending down beside him, giving him the awkward kind of side hug. Some of her hair flapped in front of David’s face as he inhaled, making the dirt and blood on his face insignificant. She smelled very nice and pretty, and her hands were soft as they rubbed his back. He winced from the pain but didn’t say anything. Soon enough, she turned his head towards hers, making him stare deep into those blue eyes. He felt tears of embarrassment fly down his face, and, not wanting to show his weakness any more than he already was, pushed her away, quickly getting up and running as fast as he could towards his house.
“David, come back!” shouted Mr. Lopez.
“David please!” Sarah shouted. David never looked back, limping towards his house the entire way. “Do something, Mr. Lopez!”
“If he doesn’t want help, there’s nothing I CAN do. I’ll call the police on Johnny, however. You should probably get going home, Sarah.”
“No buts. It’s getting dark. God knows this place isn’t the best place to be at night. Definitely not the place someone like you should be hanging around.”
“I...” she sighed, looking down at the ground. “Ok...see you tomorrow, Mr. Lopez.”
“Have a nice night, Sarah.”
Sarah headed home, staring up at the stars, muttering a small prayer for David.
David finally arrived at his house, his left cheek swollen, barely able to see out of that eye. He cautiously turned the key in the door, slowly opening it. He saw his father passed out in his lounge chair, a half spilled bottle of beer on one side, an open foldout of the month’s playgirl in his lap. David quickly and quietly snuck in, closing and dead-bolting the door behind him. He limped his way up the stairs, a small blood trail following him to his room. He closed it behind him, dropping his backpack as he sank to his knees, crying heavily. He fell to the floor, laying there, whimpering in a fetal position, closing his eyes in an attempt to make the world go away.
“God, please...please...” he begged, not exactly sure what he was begging for. He opened his eyes, a small gleam of light catching his eye. He blinked, drying his tears as he looked at the answer under his bed. He painfully crawled there, a faint blood trail on the carpet as he pulled the gun, his father’s gun, from under it. He felt the smooth barrel as he trembled holding it. He would no longer be a coward. He checked the clip, seeing the only bullet he’d managed to steal in there, cocked the gun back, and stuck the barrel under his chin, looking up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry...please forgive me...” he said, as he pulled the trigger. The deafening noise put him in worlds of pain, more pain than he had ever experienced before. He tried breathing, but his vocal chords were ruined. God was making him suffer. He stared up at the spot in the ceiling, unable to move his eyes. He heard a soft yell from downstairs, followed by a heavy thumping as his father ran up, tripping along the way. Soon enough, he burst open the door, finding the bloody, deformed mess of David on the floor. He froze for a second, taking in what exactly he was seeing, then ran towards the body, slipping on a piece of brain matter, falling face first into a small puddle of blood. He quickly recovered himself, wiping the blood away from his face. Tears started to fall from his eyes, as he looked into David. David felt a small burning sensation from the tears.
“Oh, shit...oh, shit, oh shit shit SHIT!” David’s dad yelled frantically. “I should’ve-”
Then silence. All was lost.
A dangerous place
David felt weightless, as if floating about in space. A soft, warm sensation flowed across his body, making him...happy. It was almost as if the sun was shining in his face. He felt himself smile slightly, without a care in the world. He took a deep breath in, feeling fresh and alive. Then he remembered. He quickly opened his eyes, a blinding light making him shut them again. He put a hand up over his face, blocking out some of the light as he looked around his surroundings.
He sat up, finding that he was laying in a patch of grass in front of a large oak tree. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that he was somewhere slightly familiar, like a park or a playground. He saw a full set before him, complete with jungle gyms, swing sets, and those spinning things that always made people dizzy. He smiled to himself. This place was perfect. He stood up, walking towards the spinning thing, finding that the sky above him, instead of a normal blue, was bright white, and that there was no sun. Still, he felt warm and happy.
As he approach the spinner, he noticed that it was in perfect condition, with no scratches, chipped paint, or rust spots. It didn’t even squeak when he spun it. Subconsciously, he looked left and right, and, seeing nobody, grabbed one ledge and ran fast, building up speed as he hopped on, seeing the beautiful, white world spin around him. The warmth in his heart intensified, as did his happiness.
“Careful, David!” he heard a familiar voice say. He looked around, seeing nobody. He stopped the spinner, stepping off, playfully dizzy. He flopped down to the ground on his back, looking up at the bright white sky. He slowly closed his eyes, basking in whatever warmth was provided to him.
“David!” he heard again, that same voice. It was a familiar voice, a female voice, one he’d heard many times...was it...his mother? Suddenly, he gained a massive, throbbing headache. He opened his eyes, finding the spinner spinning by itself, a phantom image of a child and his mother playing around it.
“Don’t go too fast, David!” the woman shouted. Was the child him? Was that his mom? Childish shrieks of laughter continued. It was something out of his childhood. He watched the child...himself...stand up, jumping and clapping while still spinning around. He lost his balance and fell, the fast rotations of the spinner flinging him off, hitting his head on a pole. The younger David started crying as his mother ran to console him. He was bleeding heavily, and his mother quickly picked him up and ran away, their phantom, ghostly images disappearing soon after. David rubbed his forehead, feeling the scar from that day. His throbbing headache then started again, making him bend down to the ground in pain, clutching his head. He closed his eyes in sheer pain, grunting in displeasure.
When his headache subsided, he opened his eyes, finding him back at...his house? He stood up straight, seeing his dad in front of him, passed out, a half-spilled bottle of beer on one side and the playboy magazine in the other. David scratched his head, confused. Shortly after, to the right, he saw the front door slowly creak open, watching a familiar scene he had lived out just moments before.
He watched himself sneak by his dad, who still snored, and scramble up the stairs, the blood trail almost ominous of what was to happen. As David’s past self closed the door, David braced himself for what was coming. He already knew what was going to happen, so he decided to stay in the living room, ready to watch his father’s reaction.
The loud bang of the gun echoed through the house, making David jump. His father jumped as well, falling out of his chair. He gathered his surroundings, trying to scramble up the stairs, falling. David followed him up there, as his father fumbled with the doorlock, bursting his way into the room, staring at the bloody mess of his son. David instantly regretted killing himself, a few tears falling down his face as he watched his father drunkenly stumble towards his body, slipping on a piece of brain matter that had fallen to the floor, splashing blood on his face.
“Oh, shit...oh, shit shit SHIT!” he father yelled, trying to stuff pieces of David’s brain back inside of him. He frantically pounded on David’s chest, trying to perform some sort of drunk CPR. “I...I should’ve...” he started, before ending abruptly. Should’ve what? What was there he could have done? He may have been a piece of shit, but that piece of shit was still his son. He felt tears fall down his face as he looked around. Through his blurred vision, he saw the gleam of the silver gun that had fallen to the floor. He gently picked up the gun, one he had been missing for a while, and pointed it at his head, hoping there was an extra bullet in which to kill himself with. He closed his eyes, squeezing the trigger, only to hear a click of an empty magazine. His stomach sank into his heart as a soft pounding sound came from downstairs, complete with yelling. David’s dad dropped his hand, still holding on to the gun as he started to whimper, on the verge of crying. David walked out into the hall, trying to figure out what the soft pounding was. From the downstairs living room, he could tell someone was banging on the front door, trying to get in. However, David had deadbolted it when he came home, so they were having a difficult time. Soon enough, the door busted down and 4 or 5 policemen came storming into the place. But wait...why were the policemen there?
David continued to watch as the policemen coordinated things with each other, their guns drawn, clearing the first floor. Several of them made their way upstairs, passing straight through David as they entered his room, seeing his father, back turned to them, a gun in his hand, and the bloody mess of David laying right before him. Without hesitating, the lead policeman holstered his weapon quickly, tackling and subduing David’s father, handcuffing him, as he screamed and tried to get away from it. They took him downstairs, leading him out to a police car, struggling the entire way.
When they finally got him in the car, David took a seat right next to him. David’s dad kept his head down low, whimpering, small streams of tears flying off his face. David felt tears running down his own face, wiping them away. David’s dad looked over at David, staring deep into his eyes, looking out the window behind him. Those red, bloodshot eyes sent another massive headache to David, as he closed his eyes, holding his head tight in an attempt to get rid of it. He vision went white.
As he opened his eyes, he found himself in a blurry, but familiar place. As his vision focused, he realized it was his own house. However, there were no policeman...in fact, there wasn’t much at all. The familiar lounge chair remained in the room, along with some decorations that had been there the entire time, but other than that, the room was scarce. David didn’t have much time to ponder over it as he heard muffled yelling coming from the front door. It swung open shortly, as what appeared to be a younger version of his dad and his mom stormed in. His mother carried something in her arms. David couldn’t quite make it out yet.
“It’s not even ours!”
“Yes it is!”
“No! If you would have been more careful, that piece of shit wouldn’t have been brought here, and it would have been the two of us!”
“He’s not a piece of shit!”
“You put him up for adoption, now.”
“No. It’s too late for that.”
David’s dad took a step toward her.
“Take one more step, and I call the police!”
David’s dad sighed heavily, rubbing his face. “Fine.”
“If you do anything to hurt him, I WILL get the police.”
“Fine.” he said, defeated.
“Now...” she said, placing David down on the sofa. “I need to make him some formula.” she finished, turning her back to him, opening the fridge. David then watched in horror as his dad viciously started beating his mother. She never had a chance to scream as he punched her over and over and over again, knocking her unconscious, spilling liquid formula on the floor, mixing with her blood. He then picked her up, slinging her across his shoulder, blood dripping down her face. He looked at the baby David on the couch, as he squirmed and squiggled in his sleep.
“You got lucky.” he said to him, carrying his mother off to their bedroom, throwing her down on their bed. David felt another strong headache hit him, and he closed his eyes once again, opening them to find himself back in the park, alone, right in front of the spinner he had seen himself play on earlier. Instead of the pristine shape it was in earlier, however, it was tilted slightly, with small rust spots on the handles where he had watched a memory play earlier. He turned around and walked towards the picnic tables, taking a seat, gazing up at the big blue sky. A few minor clouds hung around, and he inhaled deeply, enjoying the breeze and the fresh scent of the air.
“Oh, what a lovely day, David!” he heard his mother’s voice say. He looked over to the left, seeing another scene of him and his mother from years ago.
“Are you hungry?” his mother asked, opening up a picnic basket, pulling out some sandwiches. “I made you peanut butter and banana!”
The younger David gave a childish shriek of delight as David smirked ever so slightly. The child opened the bag, biting down on his sandwich, smiling at his mother, who simply gave him a smile back. She pulled out her own sandwich and bottled water, and David watched the two of them eat just as happy as could be. Watching this scene made him feel...at peace, almost, like he was reconnecting with better times. He looked into the beautiful face of his mother, wondering what had happened to her...or if she had found out yet.
“Mommy? Why do you have a black eye?” asked the child. The mother faltered, choking on her sandwich.
“Mommy was clumsy and fell down the stairs...”
“Are you alright, Mommy?”
“Yes, David...Mommy’s fine.”
“Do you want a kiss to make it better?”
The mother stared at the child, a faint smile forming on her lips, one tear forming down her bruised eye.
“Yes, David. Come here.” she said, extending her arms to him. The child got up, walking around the table, where the mother picked him up, putting his face close to hers. The child kissed his mother’s eye, giving her the smile of innocence, of someone who didn’t know the truth.
“Does it feel better, Mommy?”
“Yes, David.” she said, hugging him tight, kissing his forehead. “Yes it does.”
As she hugged him, she swayed back and forth. David smiled at this scene until the mother changed her eye direction, looking directly at David, a glare of sadness, hurt, and confusion. The child turned his head to look at David as well, sending David into another massive headache.
She’s to die for
David kept his eyes clenched, suffering from the massive headache. He could hear muffled voices around him, getting more clear as time went on. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he stood up to gather his surroundings.
He was in a weird type of building. It was almost like a mix between a doctor’s office and an abandoned shack. One woman sat behind a desk, in rather sultry attire, a pink, lacy bra sticking out from a tight leather top. She sucked on a lollipop, reading a book. In what looked like a lobby, three or so men sat in chairs, waiting. One messed with his phone while the other two struck up a conversation. Was this where his mother worked? She’d always kept it a secret from him...he never really knew exactly what it was she did. He listened to the two guys talk.
“Dude, is this your first time here?”
“No, I’ve been here a few times. I’m guessing you’re new, though.”
“Was it that obvious?” he asked, befuddled.
“Generally, people don’t talk too much in here.” said the other man, a little short.
“Oh. So, uh...who’s the best one here?”
“For a first timer, I’d definitely recommend Charlotte ‘The Harlot’. She’s the cheapest one, but not by much.”
David scratched his head. Charlotte was his mother’s name...but...harlot? What was that about? He snapped out of that train of thought as a door opened behind him, and a man with a very goofy smile on his face walked out, struggling to put his belt on. David blinked in confusion, starting to put pieces of a puzzle together, as his mom walked out that same door, messy hair, rubbing her mouth with her fingers, flinging away a substance he was afraid to recognize.
“So...” she said, giving a seductive smile to the two gentlemen. “...which one of you handsome men is next?”
The first timer immediately jumped up, raising his hand in the air, smiling. David’s mother motioned at him with her finger, as he and David both walked in that room. David’s fears were realized when he saw nothing in that room but a bed, bondage equipment, whips, chains, and various other “Pleasure” toys that could spell out nothing more than collector...or prostitute. Now he understand why she never told him...
“So, big boy, lights on or off?”
“On. I like to see what I’m doing.” he said, smirking. Charlotte rolled her eyes. As if she hadn’t heard that one a million times. She tenderly put her pointer finger to her lips, slowly getting down on her knees, trailing her hands down his chest. David felt confused watching this scene. Why would she be doing this? She was smarter than this...she knew better...didn’t she? The family was in relatively good financial standings...was this the reason why?
David paid his mother respect by turning around, refusing to watch the scene, though he could hear every last word, slurp, and sound effect that went into it. If he was alive, he probably would have felt nauseous.
He heard the man sigh heavily, giving her a final command, ordering her to swallow. David heard her mouth smack, humming lightly much as you would in a doctor’s office. He shuddered a bit at these sound effects. He’d always pictured sex as being something...better. Something more...glorious, almost. Like the movies, where it’s slow and romantic, not frantic and loud. He turned around, finding the man zipping up his pants on his way out the door, his mother still naked, searching for her clothes. David stopped, staring at her, confused at this sudden influx of emotions. He was captivated by her beauty...but that was his mother. He’d never pictured her in this way before, as a beautiful creature. Then again, he never saw much of her throughout the day, as he was mostly unconscious. She checked a clock sitting on a nightstand beyond the bed, frantically searching for her clothes, putting them on in a hurry, strolling out the door. David followed her, hopping inside the car with her, as they drove home in silence.
That silence soon turned to frantic worry as she pulled up to the house, seeing blaring red and blue lights all over the area. Neighbors were lined up outside the police tape, trying to gather the scene. She got outside of the car, completely forgetting to turn it off as she stared at the scene in horror. A policeman took note of her, walking to her direction.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step back, this is a crime scene.”
“This is my house.”
“Oh? Are you Mrs. Fathom?”
“Y...yes...what’s going on here?”
“Ma’am, we have reason to believe that your boyfriend-”
“Yes. Husband, David Fathom, killed your son.”
David’s mom gasped, putting a hand over her mouth, eyes watering, staring at him in silence.
“We...we’d like to take you into the station and ask you some questions.”
“Ma’am...” said the police officer, stepping her way, laying a hand on her shoulder. “We need to take you in.”
David’s mother slapped his hand off of her, giving him a sad death glare before running back to her car, fumbling for her keys before remembering they were still in the ignition. David took his seat back in the car, as his mother backed out hurriedly, the policeman running after her flashing his badge. She sped away, driving out of the neighborhood to an unknown destination.
The car sped along, swerving erratically due to the tears in her eyes. David felt a small tear stroll down his face. Odd, he thought, since he was dead. Suddenly, his vision started blurring white as a vision flashed played out in his mind.
David found himself in a white room, with several people in white robes. They looked like Nurses.
“Alright, now, Charlotte, there’s another contraction coming. I need you to push.” said what he presumed to be a nurse. He looked at the woman giving birth, finding that it was his mother. David had never really known her name, as his dad only referred to her as “Sugar tits” or “GImme this”, sometimes refusing to give her a name at all. “Push, Charlotte, push!”
David’s mother uttered primal groans of agony, her teeth bared as she held the hands of two assistants. But wait...David looked around the room, searching for his father. He checked outside the hall, seeing nothing, depressed. Yet, at the same time, this was what he expected. His father didn’t want him alive, why should he be there when he was being born?
“Alright, Charlotte, I see the head, just keep pushing! You’re almost there!” said the head nurse, her hands buried deep underneath the sheet. David’s mother made a few final heaves, breathing heavily, squinching her eyes in order to help push the heap of child out. After one final heave, holding her breath, David popped out, screaming and crying in the world as the doctors cut the umbilical cord, wrapping him up in a blanket, wisking him off to wherever they put newborn babies. David’s mother continued breathing heavily on the bed, smiling at the head nurse since she didn’t have her husband to smile at.
David’s vision returned to normal and he found himself back inside the car. He looked out the window, finding that the car was stopped. He stepped outside, walking through the car door, gazing at his surroundings. They were on a bridge of some sort, heavy fog shrouding them, an ominous presence about them. What bridge was this? He didn’t remember any bridges here...
He heard a small sob, and looked over to his left, finding his mother standing on the railing, looking down at the water hundreds of feet below.
“I’m sorry David...” he heard her stammer through tears. David’s stomach dropped as he knew what was about to happen. He uselessly walked towards her, telling her “No, Mom...Don’t do this...”
“David...I’ll be there soon...” she said, dramatically putting one foot up, standing on the edge of the bridge, on one leg. David yelled at her to stop, but she stepped off, right in front of him. David frantically dived off the bridge in an attempt to save her, only managing to plummet with his mother, hundreds of feet down to the water, screaming just as loud as her. He saw her body hit the water, dead on impact, seconds before he hit it too, giving him a splitting headache, sending his vision white, making him scream in agony. He jerked his head up, finding himself back in the park, grabbing the back of his head, still screaming from the pain. The phantasmal image of him and his mother were gone, but the benches where they were sitting were rusted, with chipped paint, splinters, and the musky smell of rotting wood. David remembered them being in pristine condition before he went back to Earth...
He felt a tear stroll down his cheek, and he turned around, looking up at the slightly cloudy sky above him, asking a question he should have asked long ago.
“God...are you there?”