He's Perfect: The Second Prequel

As it's title suggests this is one in a series of connected stories. To read it in it's full context, please check out "He's Perfect" in the archives.


I ran out the door and along the path, oblivious to the calming expanses of grass on either side. Without knowing where I was heading, I followed the path. As I rounded a curve the obscuring tree yielded, allowing me to see Dad's car. What was Dad's car. I couldn't take it, screaming, I bolted in the opposite direction. Across the grass, slightly boggy from the heavy rains of the past week. Soon, a fence appeared. One of those with little ability as a barrier, but one that contributed to the overall appearance of the grounds, therefore justifying the money for it and granting it the title 'fence'. I jumped over it and landed on the footpath on the other side. Without breaking stride I then left the footpath for the bitumen of the road. Suddenly, a blaring noise appeared. The sharp spikes and troughs of a heart monitor filled my brain and I became completely immobilised. The car's horn continued on and on. It cut into my head completely overwhelming the already overwhelmed. The driver, a man, was getting furious now. Soon, his window was lowered and he added his angry voice to the cacophony. Cars banked up behind him and more voices and horns were added to the horrific choir.

I had completely lost control. A part of me was willing them to run me down. The same one that also longed for one of the drivers to get out of the car and beat all the pain out of me. That's why I didn't flinch when I felt arms wrap around me from behind. I didn't even brace myself for the impact, just stood there waiting for it. But it didn't come. Instead, the arms gently steered me back the way I had come. I was too overcome to resist. So, I let myself be led back towards the place I hated above all others. I attempted to lift myself back over the fence. But in a battle of superior feebleness I won. So I found myself being lifted off the ground and over it. However, my feet didn't meet the ground again once I was safely back inside the hospital grounds. I found myself being carried, faintly aware of the squelch as we crossed the grass. Then I felt the solid feel of wood against my back as I was placed on a bench. As my rescuer sat down next to me he was finally revealed. My brain did not recognise him, but that was not saying much. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Are you ok? Would you like me to get you a nurse? How can I help?" I responded slowly. Leaving the first, unnecessary question unanswered I simply shook my head. Right then left. I just sat still after that, paralysed by the devastation in my life. "Ok", he said, as he wrapped his arm around me, "Everything's going to be alright." Because I was desperate for the fantasy, because I needed the comfort, because his arm was the only thing connecting me to this world, I sunk with his arm and buried myself in  his side. A thin layer of muscle covered his rib. This tensed slightly as his arm brought me closer into his embrace. His hand stroked my head. Just for those moments, I forgot about everything that had happened. I was back at home, with Mum comforting me after a bad dream. I stayed like that, in a trance for, in all likelihood, hours. After a while his t-shirt was damp from my silent tears, but he made no effort to dry it. No effort to discomfort me. Every now and again he would say something. Never anything substantial, but always something comforting and nothing my warped brain couldn't morph into my mother's voice.

At one point a nurse must have come out trying to find me. Seeing me with Him, she informed him what had happened. She'd  tried to get me back inside. There were forms that needed to be filled in and the bed needed to be cleared for another patient. He told her it could wait. Knowing him very well, she let it go, leaving me in his very capable hands. "Ben. I'm here for you. I can stay as long as you need me", he told me once she had left. "But if you'd like, I could take you to somewhere more comfortable, where you could lie down?" This time I nodded. He gently pushed me so that I was once again sitting upright. He stood up, moved in front of me and with the hand that still clasped mine, he pulled me to my feet. I was vaguely aware of this being the first time I had actually seen his face. Somewhere inside a part of me registered the compassion on his face and most of all in his eyes. Not sympathy or pity, but true and pure compassion. Allowing me to set the pace, we edged towards the hospital doors. At the steps I stumbled, forcing him to stabilise me. From then on his hand released mine and his arm swung around my back, supporting me, once again.

Eventually we made it to his room. A small, single room with a bed and not much else. He lay me down on his bed, slid a chair beside it and sat down. He grabbed a firm hold of my hand again and his other hand went soothingly to my head. "You're here now. You're safe. You can sleep now." So I did.

When I awoke, he was still there, sitting beside me, holding my hand, but his attention was directed at the nurse. They conversed too quickly for my groggy brain to follow, but soon, she returned with some food. Some of the first light of the day was making its way through the window, lighting up the room. It could have been my state of mind, but to me, it seemed to shine an intense spotlight on Him, highlighting his golden hair. "Hello Ben", he greeted me warmly, "How are you feeling? Julie's brought you some breakfast if you'd like it." Immediately, I became aware of my rumbling stomach, and I was unable to recall when I had had my last meal. I fed myself, although weakly, forgetting to thank the nurse before she left.

When I had finished, I turned to the guy who had entered my life so welcomely. "What was your name?" He told me and I placed it in my memory bank's most secure vault. This would be a name I would treasure until the day I died...

The Four (3 and 1)

A fair while ago now, this appeared in a post on MY LITTLE NOTEPAD: "In my head I heard, 'Where is he? Is he here? Please let him be here, let him see me.'" This is the story that it led to...

I don't know what to do. All of a sudden I can't turn a corner without bumping into one of the three. Or even more torturous: being stuck alone with the fourth one. Two of them look quite similar though one is a couple of years the elder. It is the hair mainly that makes this so. All of them much taller than I am. Fitter than I am. Hotter than I am. Each of the three I wish would just shut their mouths, close their eyes and remove their tops. I've given up on that faintest hope that they'd one day look at me with the knowledge that comes from a close bond shared between lovers. A passive neutral response is the best I can hope for now. I hear them talking and it nearly makes me reconsider how I feel about them; the way they are objectifiying women. But then I see them and my insides just melt away to form an entire swarm of butterflies. One of them, also, has a voice that doesn't fit the illusion. Forces me crashing back down to reality. I am not so superficial that none of the other things matter...

The one I had the most contact with, through my soccer, has almost vanished completely from my life, now that the season has changed. I enjoyed him being around, especially in the changerooms. I enjoyed the way he mucked around with the other members of the squad in his year level, without realising that by doing so he was bringing to life some of my most desired homoerotic fantasies. But now that he's not, he has moved out of his lot in my subconscious. It's similar also, in the case of the look-a-like. Although, every now and again he pops into my thoughts, this happens more and more rarely as his contact with me becomes non-existent. The third one though, is the oldest of the heart throbs. His apartment was rented out long before the other two came onto the scene and he is still a tenant today. His appears to be more than a mere business transaction. The literal shine of his hair and that cute face to die for! I don't know much about him apart from what I have seen myself. But what I have seen is enough to keep me coming back for more for a long time yet. His is the attitude of confidence. It is so seductive, from the way he presents himself to the way he walks.

All of them would have few objections from the general population if they were to wear less. Lets face it, their bodies are S-M-O-K-I-N-G! And they know it. Thankfully, this means at every chance they get they're not afraid to show it off. To the ladies of course, but it works on me just as well. I just wish I could let them know how impressed I am. That they would respond in the same way they would if the feedback came from a girl.

And then there is the fourth one. The forward one. The tease. He is the one that, jokingly or not, suggests all the things that have been going through my mind since he entered the room. The illusion I have created with him, is not that far from reality. The strip tease revealing that smooth, toned body and done with a cheeky grin plastered across his face, would not be so far out of character. Acting on his lewd suggestions would be. He would be the dominant one, playing the part with experience and skill. Ashamedly, I would be his willing servant; desperate to please him so as to please myself. Thoughts of romantic exploits are banished by the reality that he would use me and move on to his next source of pleasure. But damn, it wouldn't stop me from doing it, if he ever did use actions instead of words. For actions are much harder to misinterpret.

And so, the days of their company are drawing to a close. But, whenever I'm around the place, in areas I might see them a small part will always be thinking, "Where is he? Is he here? Please let him be here, let me see him."

____________________________________________________

A quick question to loyal readers of my blog:
Do you have a preferred person which you enjoy reading my posts in? 1st, 2nd or 3rd person?

Newly Found Freedom

Nearing one week of freedom, it's a strange feeling. For one, The Four (more on them soon) will most likely vanish from my life forever, now that ties with school have been broken. It is probably better that way but still...

On the other hand, a whole new world is opening up for me, if I'm brave enough to take that first step. And  for me, it is a big one.

Besides, all the free time ahead of me is both relaxing and inspiring. It is the longest break since before age 5, with nothing at all to interrupt it and no plans! Should give me a chance to really give this blog a work-out. To branch out a bit. To experiment, experience and enjoy.

Write soon.

SHOUT OUT:   Kitty if you are reading this... Miss your entertaining posts muchly...

No Magic

The magic isn’t running through my veins. The Elders had said to be careful, to make sure that I kept in practice or I could lose it forever. Stupidly, I ignored them and focused on more important things. It was there, it was always there. Nothing I did, said or thought, could change that. If only…

My arm is tensed; the veins are popping out, but still nothing. The glow is gone. The sparkle, the flow of pure power are no more. Instead, a tear glides slowly down my cheek as I rue what once was, what could have been. Gravity takes hold and the tear accelerates in its fall. I accelerate in my fall. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Now, I can see how focusing on my Tasks lead to me neglecting so many other things. So what if I couldn’t practice outside of home and the Learning Place. Was it really worth gaining that ability to lose this one.

It is the thing that separates each of us and makes us unique. We, all alike in physique, have one vital difference in our appearances. All of us are distinguished by our aura. Our colouring that, because it is directly linked to our own magic, takes on a new shade. My skin, once the most violent of radioactive greens has dulled to moss. Dying moss. The tear, with its slight green tinge falls to my shoulder and then down my arm. It traces my vein to my wrist where it stops; its journey complete. Soon it will dry up, to be replaced by the lightest of marks. I watch, waiting for this.

And I wait. And wait. And wait. No evaporation, no mark. Now the tears are really flowing. A stream floods my face and yet again I wish could go back...

Reflection (amongst other depressings)

I see now when the dream died. I stopped believing in the fairytale and saw a reality...
Did you see what I see?
Did you feel what I feel?