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A Boy

A True Story

By Marshall AlexanderPublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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This is the story of a boy. From the day the boy was born, he loved unconditionally and purely, although his mother did not share the same feelings. She was disgusted by his existence and regretted conceiving him. Day after day as the boy grew, so did his mother's distaste for him, and yet he was unaware and only sought to be loved by his family. The boy had an older brother of four years difference, and he looked up to and cared very dearly for this brother, oblivious to his brother's hatred for him that was fueled by a deep envy, so powerful it had consumed the older brother. Mom did drugs. He used them with her, enjoying the fact that he fit in somewhere in this equation. The day came that he could take care of himself, as well as his mother, whom consistently found herself too fucked up to do so for herself. He was about seven years of age and eager to please, hoping to validate his position in the family. This effort made his mother feel some affection for him, and with a polluted conscience, she expressed that affection in a horrid way, sexually molesting the boy, confusing him about who he was to her, and what love even was. Still, he endured for them, never thinking that he had any value as a person on his own. The months passed and his interaction with Big Brother took an extreme turn. Big Brother had a few ideas for his body being used, for himself and friend. He was coaxed into a back room of the trailer on the end of River St., enticed by video games to be played with Big Brother and his friend.

"I like that body, boy..." says his Friend.

"What do you mean?" replied the Boy.

"He means shut up and sit still," interjects Big Brother.

Fear floods his mind and heart. He has already been tampered with in every wrong way, he knows well now, the difference between right and wrong and he's scared, wants to run away. He cannot... Tears stream down the boy's face as he is defiled by The Predator. Defenseless and wounded, he is left alone after the Predator's work is done. He runs for home... Where is home? He can't remember how to get there at this point. He's gone too far from the nest, but he shall not stay there, not in that vile place, memory of his torment fresh on his mind...

At the park, it's dark outside and the Boy is tired. He climbs his way to the plastic tunnel at the top of the playground and lies down, crying softly. Why did it have to be this way? "Because he was born terrible, never wanted by a soul," he thought. At this moment... a reaction occurred inside of him. The obtrusive view of himself had become paradigm, and no longer speculation. Lost in a sea of fear and sadness, the Boy becomes bitter and untrusting towards both the untrustworthy and the opposite forces. Drugs are no longer a ticket to be a part of family life, they are the only sustainable remedy to the Boy's misery.

Age fourteen... It's been four years since the Brothers were removed from their biological mother's care and custody, due to a violent assault on her crackhead boyfriend. The boys came into the care of close relatives. The new family is wonderful in the way that they loved the boys unconditionally, throughout all behaviors. Big Brother sees this and utilizes change within himself, but not the Boy. He hangs onto his self hatred with a white-knuckle grip, truly believing that no one really loved him, or ever could. Big Brother didn't care to repair his relationship with the Boy. He simply wanted to leave the nest and be independent from family ties. And leave he did.

"I'm outta here. You can have this painting," says Big Brother.

"Thanks," replies the Boy.

He leaves without another word, and does not return for many months. The Boy is angered by his brother's apathy for him. He wanted nothing more than acceptance from him their entire lives. Being the person he is, he blames himself for it all...

Age fifteen... The Boy gets a DUI.

Now things get real. The Boy at this point has no care at all, not for himself or the belief in any other being, let alone love. One night, he's at a party, drinking and taking pain pills up his nose. He comes home to a concerned father; he knows how absolutely inebriated the Boy is, and his pain for the Boy is projected by anger. He videotapes the Boy as he fucks around, documenting his mental illness. This angers the Boy, so he lies down to feign sleep. After his father beds up for the night, he steals the key to the Chevy, ready to ride.. First time behind the wheel of a car is going pretty well for being completely plastered. As the Boy adjusts the rear view mirror while driving, the Suburban parked on the side of the road pops right up from nowhere, slamming him into reality. The crash wasn't life threatening, but he suffered a small head injury from the wheel. Unsure of what to do, and in big trouble, the Boy parks the car, totalled. Lying in the back seat considering his options, he decides that getting the car back home should happen. As he pulls out of the parking lot, front end of the vehicle smashed and smoking, he takes it slow. Lights behind him aren't noticed until the police officer behind him had been in pursuit for a couple of minutes. The Boy pulls over.

"I'm fucked," he mutters to himself.

The officer wasn't nice, he remembered, while sitting in the Slate Canyon Youth Detention facility. He cries and cries, because his family will now disown him, just like he'd always feared. The morning comes and his hour in court is nigh. As he is walked up to the courtroom, his despair at having to face his father is prominent in his eyes. He knows what's coming... His father will say that he no longer wants to be the caretaker for the Boy, and he'll be remanded to the custody of the state. The Boy walks into the courtroom, and meets eyes with his dad, unable to read his father's intentions.

"Mr. Father, does this Boy need to be locked away?" inquires the Commissioner.

"No, sir," replies the Father. "He's a very good boy. He's been through far more than most people at his age and he doesn't need to be here any longer. I'll take him home now."

"What just happened? Why does he want me still?" thinks the Boy as they leave the compound.

"Dad?" says the Boy.

"Yes, son?"

"I'm really sorry."

"I know you are," was all that he said to me that morning. And we did go home, and I never left.

literature
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About the Creator

Marshall Alexander

Excellence, prestige and humility... still working on all those things but I'm getting there with boisterous bad ass-ness. I write, rap, sing, adventure, and will write about all of these things.

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