Leaking Heart: A Novel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic

Athanasios is an outcast. Why? He doesn't know. One day, a new girl named Keme arrives to tear his world apart and flip him upside down. Now, after picking up all the pieces of his heart and putting it back together, he realizes that a piece is missing. Now, he's worse off than when he started. Until there is another new kid, this time a boy, who finds that missing piece...

Chapter 3 (v.1)

Submitted: November 20, 2011

Reads: 99

Comments: 1

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Submitted: November 20, 2011

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Never have I screamed at my parents -- or anyone, for that matter -- like that. I felt ashamed, and evil, for making my mother cry like that. But she did have a tendency to cry at things, especially when she was pregnant a while ago. And especially after her miscarriage. Even so, I felt so horrible that the tears continued to flow long after the incident had passed, and long after Mom had stopped her own tears. I cleaned up the mess all on my own, threw away the broken plates, and put the silverware in the dishwasher. Then I reset the table for two and went to my room.

Sometimes I wish I could get away from it all. All the monotony of my life. But then I always remember how much my parents love me, and I'm sure that they would be devastated if I left.

After a while of lying in bed in depression and tears, I sit up and look at my digital clock. The green numbers glow 12:19. Well after midnight, and my parents would surely be in bed. I decided to take a walk. The cool, fresh air would do me good.

It was colder than I thought when I walked outside, but I had already closed the door and I didn't want to go through the trouble of rushing in and punching in the security system code before the alarm came on. My dad had it set so that anywhere after midnight, should the door or windows be opened, the alarm would go off and wake up everyone in the neighborhood.

So I decided to take my walk in the cold anyway, with only a pair of pajama bottoms, a small windbreaker, and sneakers slipped over my bare feet. My breath clouded up in the air as I walked briskly down the street. I felt the goosebumps on my arms and legs, but strangely, I liked the feeling. I doubt anyone was awake on my block; none of their lights were on, with the exception of their porchlights.

The moon was bright tonight, though it was only a sliver surrounded by twinkling stars. I wondered if my would-be brother or sister was looking down on me. He or she would have been two years old had he or she been born. We had never decided on a name, but in my mind, I hoped it would have been a girl, and that her name would Alice. What a disappointment when Mom woke us up in the middle of the night, screaming bloody murder. Dad and I both rushed into the bathroom, where the screams were coming from, and found Mom sitting on the floor with her pants around her ankles.

She was holding a tiny fetus in her hands, and there was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the toilet, on the rug, and on her. It was a disgusting sight for a thirteen year old boy to see. I felt queasy and left her there, screaming and writhing on the floor, and went back to my room. I fell asleep to the sound of her wails.

I shook my head to shove away the memory, and took a deep breath of the chilly morning air to help clear my thoughts. I came outside to help myself relax, not remember a bunch of horrifying shit from my past.

It was then that I realized that I had walked to the school. I don't know why; there was no reason for me to come here. I turned to walk back home when I suddenly felt the urge to stay. I looked back at the dark, silent school. Harrison High.

Then I felt a chill and shivered. I needed to get home before I caught a cold. I turned to definitely leave this time.

I hurried home, desperate to get back into my warm bed in my own room. It really is colder than I thought it would be. I was across the street from my house. As it was well after midnight, it didn't occur to me that I should look both ways before crossing.

I stepped out into the streets with my arms wrapped tightly around myself, intent on reaching my destination.

What I thought was light from the streetlamp was actually an oncoming car's headlights. The sound of screeching tires grabbed my attention.

The next thing I knew, it was dark, and my head felt like it was being split in two.

"Oh, my God!" I heard a woman gasp. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God." I heard high heels on the pavement. "Kid?" she called. "Oh, my God, oh, my God..."

Then I realized why it was so dark. I was underneath the car itself. I groaned and slowly pulled myself out from under the car. The woman who hitmewas standing in front of me with wide blueeyes, hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God, are you okay?"

I sat up in pain, holding my head in one hand. "Ouch, ouch, ouch..."

"Do--Do you need an ambulance? Do I need to call an ambulance?" the woman asked.

"I'm fine," I replied, looking at my fingertips to check for blood. Nothing seemed to be broken or bleeding. "That was my fault."

"Are you sure you're okay?" the woman asked. "Do you need -- Where do you live? Let me take you home, or to the hospital. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, I swear," I replied. I used the car to aid myself in standing up. I wobbled for a moment, then my equilibrium came back to me and I sighed. "I'm just gonna walk over there," I said, pointing to my house.

"Wh--why? Where's your house? I can give you a ride -- It's the least I can do," the woman insisted. She was really annoying.

I pointed to my house again. "I live there. So, like, I think I'll -- I think I'll just walk over there and maybe go inside or something."

"Do you need any help?" she asked. She looked really desperate. Probably didn't want me to sue her or anything.

"No, no," I said. "I am fine." I walked past her to my house. I reached for the doorknob -- and the door opened on its own.

I staggered back in surprise when I realized that my dad had opened the door. Both my parents were standing there, mirroring my expression, in their bathrobes.


© Copyright 2018 Yoshie Akira. All rights reserved.

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