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axesladeI WROTE I WROTE I WROTE!
Heh...can you tell I'm happy?
I wrote the first chapter of the project Bri and I are doing together (previously wrote the prologue), and since she just approved it, I shall post. Nothing of hers is in this yet, next chapter will be hers though.
Pearlshine
Astin Darby and Anne O’Dell
Prologue
It’s kind of funny in a really sad way. How the most beautiful and wonderful things in your life can come out of the worst pain. People usually laugh when you say things like that, how can anything beautiful come out of this hell, they’ll ask. Usually you can’t give them a good answer, just a shrug and something trite like ‘everything will work out in the end’.
Or you could just point to Dave and Kat. Two incredibly different people, who, before, would have laughed if you would have told them they’d end up with the kind of person they did. Dave, always the completely tender soul right out of San Francisco, never would have believed he’d end up with a ballsy upstate-New Yorker like Kat. Truth is, even now, those around them probably wouldn’t be able to say what they really have in common except for two things. They both ended up in Hell and needed someone to save them who understood that sometimes it’s not as easy as just walking away.
Chapter 1
Dave: June 23, 1981
“David we can get you help. There’s camps, therapists-“
“What the boy needs is a couple months stay in a padded cell, then we’ll see-“
“Jacob!”
Dave rolled his eyes, shoving a few strands of dark hair from his eyes while his parents argued about him. Who’d have thought they’d make such a big deal over him swapping spit with another boy? Well, it hadn’t helped that David was one of the ‘all mighty’ Slayers, a family that churned out doctors and lawyers, not ‘faggy folk signers’ as his father had so eloquently put it a few moments ago, or that Mike was a member of the star football team. They really should have met somewhere besides Mike’s room, or at the very least they should’ve locked the door. But it was too late for should’ves now…
“Well David, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Dave blinked, large blue eyes filling with confusion when his father finally finished speaking and was looking at him expectantly.
“About what?”
“This…whole business.”
Dave shook his head, standing up.
“Can’t even say it, can you? That maybe one of your sons is gay?”
“I won’t say it because it’s not true. No son of mine is going to be involved in that filth.”
Dave bit his lip to hold back a laugh. ‘No son of mine’. God, how often had heard that line in his life. ‘No son of mine’ is going to take guitar lessons over tennis, ‘no son of mine’ is going to spend all his afternoons composing songs instead of playing sports or studying…the list went on and on. And up until now Dave had been able to just grin and let it roll of his back. But this was too much. This was something he had positively no choice about. In truth, he wasn’t even gay. He had a couple girlfriends too, but that wasn’t the point. He knew what he felt for boys wasn’t just ‘experimentation’ as her mother had tearfully hoped it was. He felt what he felt, and if his family couldn’t accept that…
Turning to face his father, Dave cleared his throat.
“I guess if your sons can’t be involved with that filth, I’m not your son because I am. And I guess if I’m not your son, I shouldn’t stay here any more.”
“David…” his mother had tears falling down her face, and Dave almost wished he could keep on lying to make her happy again. Almost, but not quite enough.
“It’s all right Eleanor. If the little fag wants to leave, let him. See how long he makes it without us. I’ll bet you anything that’ll scare the fairy clean out of him. He’ll be back in a week, begging us to let him back in the house.”
Dave rolled his eyes as he walked up the stairs to his room, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He threw what clothes he could quickly find into a bag, along with his notebooks and a few records, grabbing his guitar case as he walked back out the door. He made his way back down stairs quickly, ignoring his mothers begging words as he walked outside into the rainy street. He’d hole up with Sunny for the night, and then…well, he didn’t know, but he was sure he’d have a plan in the morning.
Heh...can you tell I'm happy?
I wrote the first chapter of the project Bri and I are doing together (previously wrote the prologue), and since she just approved it, I shall post. Nothing of hers is in this yet, next chapter will be hers though.
Pearlshine
Astin Darby and Anne O’Dell
Prologue
It’s kind of funny in a really sad way. How the most beautiful and wonderful things in your life can come out of the worst pain. People usually laugh when you say things like that, how can anything beautiful come out of this hell, they’ll ask. Usually you can’t give them a good answer, just a shrug and something trite like ‘everything will work out in the end’.
Or you could just point to Dave and Kat. Two incredibly different people, who, before, would have laughed if you would have told them they’d end up with the kind of person they did. Dave, always the completely tender soul right out of San Francisco, never would have believed he’d end up with a ballsy upstate-New Yorker like Kat. Truth is, even now, those around them probably wouldn’t be able to say what they really have in common except for two things. They both ended up in Hell and needed someone to save them who understood that sometimes it’s not as easy as just walking away.
Dave: June 23, 1981
“David we can get you help. There’s camps, therapists-“
“What the boy needs is a couple months stay in a padded cell, then we’ll see-“
“Jacob!”
Dave rolled his eyes, shoving a few strands of dark hair from his eyes while his parents argued about him. Who’d have thought they’d make such a big deal over him swapping spit with another boy? Well, it hadn’t helped that David was one of the ‘all mighty’ Slayers, a family that churned out doctors and lawyers, not ‘faggy folk signers’ as his father had so eloquently put it a few moments ago, or that Mike was a member of the star football team. They really should have met somewhere besides Mike’s room, or at the very least they should’ve locked the door. But it was too late for should’ves now…
“Well David, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Dave blinked, large blue eyes filling with confusion when his father finally finished speaking and was looking at him expectantly.
“About what?”
“This…whole business.”
Dave shook his head, standing up.
“Can’t even say it, can you? That maybe one of your sons is gay?”
“I won’t say it because it’s not true. No son of mine is going to be involved in that filth.”
Dave bit his lip to hold back a laugh. ‘No son of mine’. God, how often had heard that line in his life. ‘No son of mine’ is going to take guitar lessons over tennis, ‘no son of mine’ is going to spend all his afternoons composing songs instead of playing sports or studying…the list went on and on. And up until now Dave had been able to just grin and let it roll of his back. But this was too much. This was something he had positively no choice about. In truth, he wasn’t even gay. He had a couple girlfriends too, but that wasn’t the point. He knew what he felt for boys wasn’t just ‘experimentation’ as her mother had tearfully hoped it was. He felt what he felt, and if his family couldn’t accept that…
Turning to face his father, Dave cleared his throat.
“I guess if your sons can’t be involved with that filth, I’m not your son because I am. And I guess if I’m not your son, I shouldn’t stay here any more.”
“David…” his mother had tears falling down her face, and Dave almost wished he could keep on lying to make her happy again. Almost, but not quite enough.
“It’s all right Eleanor. If the little fag wants to leave, let him. See how long he makes it without us. I’ll bet you anything that’ll scare the fairy clean out of him. He’ll be back in a week, begging us to let him back in the house.”
Dave rolled his eyes as he walked up the stairs to his room, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He threw what clothes he could quickly find into a bag, along with his notebooks and a few records, grabbing his guitar case as he walked back out the door. He made his way back down stairs quickly, ignoring his mothers begging words as he walked outside into the rainy street. He’d hole up with Sunny for the night, and then…well, he didn’t know, but he was sure he’d have a plan in the morning.
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no subject
on 2006-09-03 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-09-04 01:48 am (UTC)