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    Empathy
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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. 

Bad Seed - 8. Chapter 8

It was around dinner time as Kyle entered his home; something that hadn’t meant much in a long while. When his mother was alive, the house would have been filled with the smells of newly cooked food at this point in the evening. He could recall many times exiting the school bus and practically following the smell of his mothers cooking to the front door. In the six years since her passing, dinner at the Wellmen household consisted of simply grabbing a plate of whatever had been prepared and taking it to eat in front of the TV. And in Kyle’s case, there was the slight alteration of taking his food up to his room. If he had a refrigerator he’d never come out as his room, which was equipped with its own bathroom.

"The school called...something about school property being damaged. That principal of yours thinks we all might need to sit down and discuss things. What happened?” came the thick voice of his father between sips of coffee.
"Nothing...it was nothing."

"Out with it!!" the man said, his temper beginning to show.

"Just watch the game dad." Kyle said as he turned to head upstairs.

"Kyle! Watch your fucking tone boy. Do you understand me?" Kyle only nodded in response not fully turning to face the man. "I don't even care what it was this time. You've been getting into a lot of shit at school lately. I'm telling you now Kyle...look at me!” Kyle did as he was told. His father’s familiar threatening tone making an appearance. "I'm telling you now, one more call from the principal. For any reason...get your head on straight Kyle. Are you even training for cross country or track season? You won't make it past tryouts if you don't get back in shape before the season starts. Whatever is going on, stop acting like a child and handle it. You got me?"

"Yes dad" said Kyle as he turned once again to head upstairs. There was practically steam rising from his head by the time he made his way to his bedroom door. Entering the room he closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of his bed. Tossing his backpack in the corner as usual; he sat there and found himself in one of those rare moments. The kind of moment where all brain activity appears to have stopped. The usual barrage of thoughts bouncing around seemed to be still and silent and you simply stare off into space. A knock at the door interrupted the brief tranquility. His father stepped half way in; working his way into his jacket.

“I’ve got a late meeting to get to, just some last minute stuff. There’s money on the table for food if you want to order something. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” And with that he closed the door and was off. Shaking his head, Kyle, reached upwards as he stretched his arms and released the stress of the day, and then reached behind himself to grab his stereo remote. The music filled the room and was loud enough to be felt. He moved to stand by the window and watched as his dad drove away. Off to another ‘meeting’, it was laughable how he always managed to come back drunk after a meeting. As if he could, something more for Kyle to deal with later on today. He couldn’t possibly. The worst part of it all was the fact that it wasn’t enough for everyone to see the word on his locker. It wasn’t even original. It was the fact that for days it would be all anyone could talk about, in and out of school. Even now, they’d be talking, texting and sending IMs. And why shouldn’t they? The hottest gossip going was still hot in everyone’s minds. And here he stood alone in his room, forced to accept. It was so hard to swallow. To be mentally beat down, forced to keep a low profile, to be left with no choice but to desire to be ignored. And then suddenly they decide that being ostracized isn’t enough.
“Fuck” he grimaced, looking down at his fist. He was standing at the wall just to the left of his door. He didn’t even remember moving away from the window but there he was with small bits of plaster and wall being pulled away with his hand. He backed up to return to the edge of his bed. Letting out a sigh as he grasped his sore hand, he looked back at the new hole he just made in his wall. It shared a small section of the wall with several similar marks and dents. The anger that was boiling around inside was almost too much to bare and the overwhelming mix of sadness and embarrassment only made it all the worse. He remembered the first time he’d hit that wall very well.

“What the hell was that?” bellowed; Mr. Wellmen as they entered their home.

“I…don’t know” replied Kyle heading directly for his room.

“We’re…not…done” stated Mr. Wellmen harshly. “You were winning, you had a major lead and you just stopped running.”

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t focus on the race. I tried telling you this morning.”

“How could you give up the lead like that?”

“I tried to tell you I didn’t want to race this morning!”

“This again?” he asked

“He used to always come watch me race dad, now it’s just not the same, knowing he’s not there.”

“Look, Jacob died but life goes on son. Each race is just as important as the last, if you want to get a scholarship you have to be number one. Being a loser isn’t going to bring him back…”
‘It’s only been two weeks, I’m just supposed shrug my shoulders and get back into things.” Kyle yelled, tears coming to his eyes.

“People die, and it’s harsh and unfortunate but it happens son. Grow up and stop acting like a child.”

 

That day Kyle knew he would never truly forgive his father for his lack of sympathy and compassion. For all his shortcomings, for all his neglect and harshness, Kyle did take one thing his father said to heart that evening. “Whatever is going on stop acting like a child and handle it…” Who says his father is good for nothing. Kyle quickly pulled his shirt over his head as he moved towards his closet. Only to replace it with a large black hoodie. It had been Jacob’s and Kyle wore it often. Soon after he was heading downstairs and through the kitchen grabbing the money his father had left and heading to the front door.
Everyone was going to talk and there was nothing he could do about that but maybe he could give them a little something else to talk about. Stepping off his front porch and into the cool air; he took a deep breath, pulled the large hood over his head and headed for school.

Copyright © 2011 Empathy; All Rights Reserved.
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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On 03/27/2011 11:53 AM, DirkS said:
This is a really good story...showing how the lack of human love from those who should give it and friendship from one's peers can really turn a person's life around for the worse. Hope you keep writing, Empathy...I really want to see what is going to happen here.
thanks for the feedback. This story always meant a lot to me. I really need to get back to writing.
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