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    quokka
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Country Retreat - 6. Rizen

For the next three days, Rizen and I rode the horses at a leisurely pace, kayaked on the river, and went for long walks around the paddocks. On Thursday morning, as we returned from the stables to have some breakfast, Gramps came out of the office smiling. “Right boys, we are going to be busy for the next few days, a truck will be arriving at the sheds at about 10 am, so we need to go and open the north boundary gate, to let him in, and I will go and make sure the front end loader is ready to unload the supplies,” Gramps announced.

After a quick breakfast, we hopped onto the quadbike and headed up the track to the north boundary gate, which we unlocked and opened up ready for the arrival of the truck. “Do you know what is on this supply truck?” Rizen asked me, “Yes I do,” I replied without going into any more detail. “Are you going to tell me what it is?” my friend asked me. “No, wait and see,” I replied smiling. “You can be such a pain in the penis sometimes,” Rizen said to me, which was not what I expected him to say.

“Really!” I asked, “Yep,” Rizen said as he loosed his grip around my waist and grabbed hold of my dick from outside my shorts. “Yep! A real pain,” he added, “Hey, cut that out, that is private property,” I said to him as he squeezed a little harder, and I jammed the brakes on, forcing him to let go and grab around my waist again. “Do that again and you are going to be walking back,” I said to him angrily, as I turned and frowned at him.

“That’s ok, It’s not a long walk back to the house,” Rizen responded, “No, I mean you will be walking back to school, all 116 kilometres of it, should take you about 25 hours if your pace it well,” I responded, “Really?” I was just messing around, and I thought… Never mind… Look, I am sorry, ok?” Rizen said sounding surprised. “Get off and walk back to the house, I need some time to my own,” I said in the same angry tone as before, and reluctantly Rizen climbed off and I raced off at full speed straight away.

I had dropped off Rizen near the shearing shed, so he only had a 700-metre walk, that would take him about ten minutes. while I rode the remaining 350 metres to the top gates, unlocked and opened them wide. Back on the bike I paused and thought about what had happened a few moments ago, and I was not sure how I was feeling about it all. Still confused, I kicked the bike into gear and passed through the gate and turned right, onto the gravel road, making it slide a little as I picked up speed as I rounded the corner.

I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going, but I knew I just needed some space and time to think. I passed the front gate to Gramp’s second property and followed the main gravel road, as it bent to the left and then to the right, and I continued following the road until I saw ahead the road narrowing and gates, so I slowed right down, and stopped near the gates. There was bushland on both sides of the road and farmland ahead. After a short rest and checking my phone, I shut it down before I turned around and headed the way I came.

Instead of turning down the driveway on the northern boundary, I kept going, and I saw a large truck turning onto the gravel road from the highway, so I slowed right down as it passed me, as I continued towards the highway, stopping a hundred metres before the junction, where I knew there is a break in the fenceline, due to clearing the firebreak of trees and grass.

Following the fire break, I continued south until I reached the farm's main driveway, which I crossed over and continued for another 300 metres until there was no more firebreak. Turning off the bike motor, I listened, hearing traffic flying past and when quiet, I heard the river nearby which made me smile, as I climbed off and took out the key, before walking through the bush towards the river, which is less than 100 meters away.

Taking my boots and socks off, I sat down and dangled my feet into the cool river water, before I laid back and looked up at the sky between the treetops, and sighed as I thought how nice it was to just relax and not worry about anything. I closed my eyes to listen carefully to the sounds around me and dozed.

I must have been asleep for a while as I woke up to the sound of a Ute horn beeping, and looking around I realised that it was quite late in the afternoon. The horn blared again, and this time a voice called out, “Oscar, where are you dear, we are worried about you,” I heard the familiar voice of Gran.

“Quickly I jumped up, shoved my boots on, and placed the socks in my pocket, before racing back towards the quad bike, which I started up and turning around I headed back to the driveway, where I found Gran in the Ute, looking very worried.

“Where have you been? What happened between you and Rizen? When he came back to the house he had been crying, before asking to be taken back to boarding school, which Gramps is doing now,” Gran announced to me, and silently I swore, I had no idea that Rizen would want to return to the school for the rest of the week, halfway through the second week of holidays.

“I don’t want to talk about it Gran, it is between me and him,” I said, as I turned and headed down the driveway towards the house, where the garage was empty, confirming that Rizen had left the farm. Putting the bike away in the storage shed, I headed to my room, where I lay on the bed, now feeling horrible for the way I reacted to the whole thing. I was not sure how and what I wanted to do now.

When Gran called me for dinner, I told her that I wasn’t hungry, and after saying that, I got up and went to feed the horses, before having a shower and going to bed extra early. The next few days were a bit of a daze for me, I came to the table and cleaned up afterwards, fed the horses, and spent the rest of the time going on long walks or laying on my bed in my room.

“Ok, what the hell is going on here, speak up son, this can not continue you, the way you have been behaving the last few days,” my Dad said as he walked into my room unannounced, which scared the crap out of me, and it took me a while to calm down a little, as Dad sat down in the chair at the desk beside my bed.

“Well, I am waiting! Gramps said that Rizen came back to the house on foot, and you just disappeared on the bike, and he wouldn’t say what had upset him. Did you hurt him in some way? Tell me, what the hell happened to make him cry, and ask to be taken back to the school 3 ½ days before the end of the holidays?” Dad asked me.

I waited for a few moments, to work out exactly what I was going to say, and I was about to speak, when Dad stood up, “Pack your bags, you're coming home with me, this behaviour with your guest is not acceptable,” Dad boomed at me. “My behaviour! It was him that caused the issues, not me, so why should I be punished for not doing anything, I just wanted to get some space to think through what had happened.

“Ok! What exactly did he do, and why is he the one that was crying and you're just in a nasty mood?” Dad asked, “I can't say Dad, and I don’t want to go back to that school. Can you arrange for me to attend the local school please?” I asked. “This is ridiculous… Pack your bags son, and I will take you back home, so we can try and sort this mess out,” Dad said to me.

Dad attempted to get me to speak out about what had happened during the trip back home, and as we turned onto the main street of my hometown, I began to shake and I was finding it hard to breathe. Dad soon made a sharp turn and moments later we arrived at the local hospital emergency department, where I was been seen by the local doctor, whom I had seen several times while growing up.

After describing how I was feeling, and seeing that I was sweating and clammy, I was given an injection, which I was told was to help me to relax. I must have fallen asleep, as the next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed, in a twin shared room, but the other bed was vacant. Finding the call button sitting on the bed, I pressed it, and moments later a nurse appeared.

“Hello young Oscar, how are you feeling now?” she asked me, as she took my vitals and recorded them on a form, “What am I doing in bed in the hospital?” I asked, “You had an anxiety panic attack, so the doctor gave you something for you to relax and sleep for a while. Are you hungry? Would you like some dinner?” the nurse responded, and all I did was nod my head yes.

As I was eating my dinner, the same doctor arrived, and he glanced at my medical records, “Good, nearly back to normal. Now Oscar, tomorrow morning, you will be seeing a CAMH Psychologist, which is short for Child and Adolescent Mental Health, to discuss what has caused this sudden anxiety attack. Your father informed me that there was an incident that happened with a school friend of yours who was staying over at your grandparent's place, do you want to tell me the basics of what happened?” the doctor asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, then shook my head no, before I started feeling funny again, getting all sweaty and shaking. “I can’t say, it's too horrible to say,” as I continued to shake, and the doctor pressed the call button three times, with a nurse dashing in soon after. “Oscar, before I give you this needle, let me ask, were you assaulted, or maybe sexually assaulted?” the doctor asked, and all I could do was cry out in pain, and soon I was asleep again.

Copyright March 2024 All Rights are Reserved, Preston Wigglesworth
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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