Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/519304-A-Troubled-Season
Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Article · Teen · #519304
A boys reflection on his troubled past and present... and his look toward the future.
[Introduction] A boys reflection on his troubled past and present... and his look toward the future.
A Non-Existent User
“Gabriel Anthony Stuart! Do not walk away from me!” I could hear my father screaming at me as I turned my back to him, but I didn’t care. At that moment in time I was as far from wanting to hear what he had to say as I had ever been.

“Tony, please. Just let him go.” My mother’s voice was laced with tears and the threat of those to come.

Arguing seemed to be a constant factor in my house lately. Usually it was over something I had done or something I didn’t do. The tension was almost tangible, and it was making everyone edgy. It was my fault. We all knew it.

My father forgot about me for a moment and turned on my mother. “You want me to let him get away with this? He’s failing most of his classes. He’s skipping school, lying about where he’s been. When he does show up for school he is constantly disruptive and picking fights. You want me to just forget all that and pretend like he’s not about to be suspended, AGAIN Do you get it?”

“I get it, but the yelling and arguing doesn’t make it any better. Does it?” Without waiting for and answer my mother’s voice softened. “Besides, he’s our son. Don’t we at least owe him the right to explain himself?”

I didn’t wait around to listen to my father’s reply. It wouldn’t matter anyway. He didn’t understand me and never would. I wasn’t even sure I understood me, so how could I really expect him to. I didn’t know why I did some of the things I did, or why I said some of the things I said. Though I would never admit it to my parents, not knowing or understanding scared me.

I couldn’t take it any more. I grabbed my jacket from the peg beside the door and without even thinking of a destination I stormed out of the house and into the dusky evening. I was down the stairs before I heard the screen door rattle hard against the doorframe.

Then I ran.

I had no Idea where I was heading for, and it didn't matter. I just wanted to get as far away from them as possible.

Walking along the dank streets, I listened carefully to the sounds buzzing all around me. My town can be a very dangerous place to be taking a walk in alone at night, and it wasn't uncommon for someone to get mugged, or even killed.

I am so sick of it. They just don't get me. Nobody does. They think I like getting in trouble, that I like failing in every subject in school."You don't try hard enough," they say to me.Well, Bullshit !! I have been trying, really, really hard, and I'm still failing. Whatever, I'm sick of it all. It's not worth trying anymore.

As I continued to walk, I realized I had reached my friend Greg's house, who lived all the way across town ! I must have been out for a while.I didn't want to go home. Ever.

I carefully climbed up the side of his house, and creeped up to the side of his window. Holding on to the sill with one hand , I slowly rapped against his window. Seeing a shadow move around inside, I silently prayed that he could help me when no one else could.

A Non-Existent User
Greg peeked from the side of the curtain then flung them aside once he recognized me. I couldn’t tell if the look on his face was one of surprise or annoyance. He turned the lock on the window and pushed it up. It made a high pitched creak as if the wood frame had swollen in the damp fall air.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He looked down at me with the look that I decided was definitely annoyance. “Your parents called about half an hour ago looking for you. What did you do this time?” From anyone else, that last question would have hurt, but we’d been friends for so long that from him, it was a simple question.

“If you get out of the way so I can come in, I’ll tell you.” I saw that his expression had softened. He held out his hand to me and I grabbed it firmly. As I hoisted myself up, Greg pulled and I fell head first onto the floor of his room with at thump, pulling Greg with me.

Greg’s face contorted as he tried to hold back a laugh. He failed. As his laughter filled the room, I felt my mood brighten uncontrollably. Soon I was laughing with him, almost forgetting my own troubles.

“Shhhhh! Your parents are gonna hear.” I warned him, finally regaining my own composure. The last thing I wanted them to do was call my parents. I just wasn't ready to replay the scene from earlier all over again.

Still giggling, but only marginally so, he said, “No they won’t. They aren’t home. They went to a movie.”

I got up and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Well, why didn’t you tell me that instead of making me crawl through the window?”

Greg just shrugged. “I don’t know. Why were you knocking on my window at…” He checked his clock. “Ten twenty-two?” He got up from where he had been laughing, sat down at his desk and spun it around until he was facing me. “So, You said you were going to tell me what happened that got your parents’ panties in a bunch?”

I didn't want to talk about it , but I knew I had to. I couldn't jsut show up like that, and not give him an explanation.I slowly walked over to the other side of the room, and nervously sat on the edge of his bed.

"So, What's going on?" He asked, looking at me expectantly, with a slight raise of his eyebrows, " tell me what happened."

With a deep breath, I started, "Oh, it's just everything right now, my parents are always on my back, completely barking at me for every little thing. I haven't got the time to do anything, I feel like I am always worried about one thing or an other, and,..." Before I could go any further, Greg shook me by the shoulders.

"Woahhhh, dude, you are gonan have to slow down, I can't understand a word you're saying."

looking up at him, I realized there was no way he could ever understand.No one could. I had become so accustomed to the art of fake smiling. I'ts where you smile, only because it makes people feel better knowing you're happy, and it keeps them off your back. At that, I started my friend in the eye, and with a small crooked grin, I told him everything was alright. flashing him one of my infamous smiles, I changed the subject. It worked.

"Anyway, Greg, do you think I can crash here for tonight? I don't feel like going back home."

With a slight hesitation that was barely noticeable, he feeble nodded his head.

"Sure," He replied, a puzzled exression on his face," but you get the couch."

A Non-Existent User
I woke early the next morning before Greg or his parents. I had crashed pretty hard once I finally let myself relax. I hadn't heard Greg's parents come in, so as far as I knew they weren't aware I had even stayed the night.

Before they could find out and start asking me any questions I snuck out of the warm house and into the chilly morning.

There was no use in staying away from home for very long. I couldn't impose on Greg for more than the one night, and I didn't really have any other friends I knew well enough to impose on. I'd have to face my parents eventually, I may as well to it soon rather than later.

The morning sun was low on the horizon. Thin whisps of fog had settled near the ground. It was almost an eerie feeling. It would have been creepy if I hadn't been for the happy song the birds were chirping.

I was reminded of happier times when my family would go camping in the mountains. I remember waking up to the sound of the crackling fire. It was always so quiet on those mornings that seemed so long ago. It was almost like being in church. There was a sense of peace, calm, quiet and reverence.

I'd spend the next half an hour with my dad... alone. It was a special time, our time. We didn't say anything, but somehow, during that time, we bonded in a way that words couldn't have made happen.

As I made my way back to my house in the still morning, I realized how far I'd come, how far I'd fallen since those carefree days not so long ago. I stood at the bottom of the steps and stared up at the screen door. I hoped that my mother and father were still sleeping, but somehow I didn't think I was going to be allowed that luxury.

I started up the steps with my shoulders sagging.

What happened when i stepped into the house was the complete oppsoite of what i was expecting. The house was completely silent. The sound of the blaring T.V and the aroma of coffee that usually greeted me when i got home was not present. I took off my shoes and let out a sigh of relief that my parents weren't home,for It gave me a few hours of peace before hell broke loose in our little home.
I took off my shoes, and headed for the fridge. My stomach was growling so loud, it could be heard across the country. Taking out the milk, I noticed a folded up slip of paper with my name on it stuck to the freezer. I could tell right away it was my mothers writing. I took it and shoved it in my pocket, deciding to read it later.
As i ate my bowl of cereal, I was wondering just what my mother had to tell me. She was not the kind to write me a note, if she had something to say, she would say it to my face. I started to worry. I put my bowl away in the dishwasher, and pulled the letter out. My fingers trembled as i unfolded it.I took a deep breath, and started to read.

© Copyright 2002 xx-xx, Arch Angel Dan, (known as GROUP).
All rights reserved.
GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/519304-A-Troubled-Season