Comicality
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Living a life on the streets as a teenage runaway can be a tragic experience. And that is an understatement. However, what would happen if things were different? What happens if we all listened to that tiny little voice in our ear...telling us to do the right thing? Divine guidance is with us at all times. Guardian angels exists. And if given the task...could you be that voice for someone else?
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Dreams. I've heard it said that it was the one time when mankind can truly soar with the divine. Or so they say. But my dreams certainly don't seem to fit in the same category as everyone elses. Maybe mine are 'broken' somehow. Or maybe, it's just the simple fact that I have nothing good to dream about....not anymore. "GET OUT!!! NOW!!! YOU FUCKING PUNK!!! AND DON'T YOU EVER STEP FOOT IN THIS HOUSE AGAIN!!! DO YOU HEAR ME???" Even in my dreams, my father's deep throated, fear inducing voice
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You would think that falling in love and finding a boyfriend would get easier once you began coming out to your friends and family. But Gabe is finding out that the same nervous jitters, the same paralyzing fear, and the same unavoidable misery exists when lost in the maze of infatuation. Sometimes, finding what you really want in another boy can be just as terrifying as not finding it.
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"All Eyes Watching 2" My eyes were weighed back down to the table for an entirely different reason this time. I began nervously ripping up my napkin again. Just then, Jason came back to the table. "They are playing Wilson Phillips in the bathroom. That is SO not comfortable when you're trying to take a piss!" He said, patting me on the shoulder again as he passed me to sit down. I looked over at him, and frowned slightly. He had been busted, the scheming little bastard. And when Summer cam
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"All Eyes Watching" They say that it gets easier every time you tell somebody that you're gay. But, I beg to differ. I mean, I don't know. I think I'm just as terrified now as I was when I was doing it for the first time. You never know how one person is going to react apart from the people you've told so far. You know? I still feel my heart throbbing madly, pounding to the point of almost being painful. I still get befuddled about what words to use. What angle to take. I can hardly get
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"More Than I Remember" Kissing Rodney was always the highlight of my day. There was something about his sensual full lips that made every second of delicious contact one of hopeless infatuation. Every smooch was like falling in love for the very first time again...and there was never a reason to feel like I was overdoing it. I couldn't get enough. Rodney was 'mine'. All mine. And I never wanted to waste a single minute of the day not appreciating that God given gift. Not a single minu
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Chapter One: The Culling (Part One - "After The Storm") It's not often that I sleep deeply enough to dream anymore... And yet, tonight...be it from a certain rare moment where peace of mind was granted...or from pure exhaustion alone... I found those subconscious images flashing brightly before my closed eyes. Memories of days past. Of a world that, even in such a short time, had become long forgotten. Not the world I know today. "How's your temperature today, sport?" It was ju
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Chapter One: The Culling (Part Two - "Faith And Misfortune") Walking those streets at night...everything seemed so peaceful. Almost uncomfortably so, you know? It's hard to explain, but when a great deal of your life is spent being under pressure, hiding in corners, and worrying about your survival...an extended moment of 'calm' can be just as nerve-wracking as the threat itself. You never want to let to your guard down. You can never give in to the feeling that 'everything is fine'. Every
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The future is not what most of the Earth's population thought it would be. The very idea of a global, man-made, apocalypse seemed so far outside the realm of possibility that most of humanity couldn't see what was happening until it was too late. Young Noah Kenner is living in this new world. This desolate landscape. And his love for one boy, and one boy alone, may be the only thing to carry him through to the other side.
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Prologue April, 2010 It was hard for Norman Cobb to keep his eyes open after such a filling dinner on Easter Sunday. Kicked back in his easy chair, watching television. His wife, Susan, was still flustering about the kitchen...attempting to get it clean. Both of their grandchildren were upstairs, sleeping peacefully. Tuckered out from an entire morning of running around and causing havoc wherever they could. Norman was thankful for the peace and quiet offered in small moments like these
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Ethan's parents divorce and his mother starts dating Mike, who has a cute son named Carter. While wrestling, Ethan suddenly kisses Carter and it turns out that Carter likes it. Things progress from there.
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For a kid getting ready to start a brand new school in a brand new town at age 14, the height of puberty, my parents picked a fine time to split up! I was devastated! It's just so unbelievable to think that your parents don't want to be together anymore. It's like watching Van Halen split up all over again! Anyway, that was 7 or 8 months ago and I got kind of used to the fact that they weren't going to be getting back together. My mom had moved on and had started dating some guy she worked with
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Sean sees a picture of old Mrs. Handler's grandson Jared after he shovels her snow away for her. Sean falls in love with the picture. Jared moves back to Chicago and the boys meet.
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Well mannered...that's how most adults refer to me. Well mannered, well trained, mature for my age, very polite...geez, I feel like a performing bear for crying out loud. It's like every adult in the world expects us 14 year old boys to all be maladjusted junkies who listen to heavy metal and bang our heads against the wall while robbing liquor stores. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the compliments, or the attempt at a compliment anyway, but sometimes I feel like people just underestimate kids
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A cute parody of teen sex stories. Written as an April Fools joke.
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I had read that quote in a book once, and while the words were right there in front of my face, I could never make much sense out of it. I mean, I could pretty much come to my own conclusions about it, but looking at that phrase over and over again, I just KNEW that there had to be some deeper meaning that I was missing. Some hidden message in between the lines, that probably described the pain, the joy, and the overall mystery of love. Maybe this poet, whoever he was, had found the answer. Mayb
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There was no physical comfort in being wrapped up in my own bed sheets. No emotional comfort in hiding. If anything, it kept the tears coming in short bursts that lasted for five to ten minutes at a time, while I did my best to stifle them with my pillow. My body remained sore and bruised hours after the beating I had taken. To be honest, it had gotten worse. Giant dark purple blotches had appeared on my skin, with small yellow circles in the middle. Some of the bruises seemed to cover the
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I honestly don't remember falling asleep last night. If anything, I couldn't stop shaking in terror long enough to close my eyes for even the briefest of moments. My stomach bubbled and boiled for hours after I went to bed. I rolled from side to side, just trying to contain the bats in my gut from ripping me apart from the inside. Thoughts of Chris telling my mother that I was gay in the most horrible way possible haunted my mind. And the only thing that scared me even WORSE was the idea of me b
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There's a jittery, nervous, tremble involved in the waiting. This intense level of anticipation in not knowing exactly how your life is going to turn the second your biggest secret is revealed to the world around you. It's not so much the exposure, but the inevitable aftermath to follow it. You try to be optimistic about it all, but the truth is...you don't know WHAT to expect once the shit hits the fan. I don't get it, this felt like such a liberating opportunity last night....what happened?
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I walked into the house and tossed my backpack in the corner as I kicked off my shoes. Joel was marching right behind me at the time, and I tried to look everywhere that I could to avoid making eye contact. Eye contact means 'questions'. And I don't think I could really handle 'questions' right now. Unfortunately...Joel wasn't one for just leaving things alone. Finally, he stopped me and said, "So, are you gonna talk to me or what?" "There's nothing to talk about. Chris was just being a jer
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It was hard to shake myself out of sleep the next morning. Especially after being scared half to death by Joel stumbling into my room at 2 AM in some lame attempt to 'sneak' into the house after hours. Either my mom was too tired to hear him come in last night, or she was just too tired to care this morning. Either way, it took a while to get back to sleep. And those few moments of frustration felt like they cost me an entire night's worth of sleep. Not that I was going to need my stamina f
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I could hardly sleep that night. With the amount of tossing and turning that I did on the bed, I'm surprised that Joel was able to sleep either. Then again, after traveling around town on foot all day, 'pretending' to be in school...he was knocked out from the second he laid out on my bedroom floor clear through to the next morning. I was somewhat thankful for that. I don't think I would have been able to fake a sensible conversation when this Chris situation was weighing so heavily on my mind.
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What did it feel like? Knowing how much I had hurt Chris...knowing that I had basically ripped his heart out and bashed it with a sledgehammer in front of an applauding studio audience? It felt like it was raining salt on every open wound that I've ever had. It felt like swallowing broken glass, but being forced to chew it first. It felt like...it felt like... It felt like I had lost a really good friend. How in the hell did I even GET to this point? There was a time not long ago when
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I think I stayed up until about 2 AM last night. I just couldn't sleep. Partially from disappointment, partially from anger at my situation, and partially from guilt for making my mom feel so ad about what happened. It's not like it was her fault. If anything, she was going way WAY out of her way to be there for me. Some parents wouldn't even do that. I guess I should be proud. I don't know...I just...I wanted to be there to get my award SO badly. It was my chance to...I dunno...'stand among kin
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I put Joel's old wet clothes in the dryer as I heard him turn on the shower, and started them off so he'd have something to wear. He had dropped his duffle bag by the door in the living room, and it looked like he had brought about as much stuff as he could carry with him. Knowing him, he had probably stashed it somewhere the night before to keep me from knowing about it. I just didn't get it. Why would Joel's mom decide to kick him out of the house? I mean he's fourteen for goodness sakes. What
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