Couldn't Do It Alone....

-~-Daisy-~- said:
haha yeah well I guess some people are born with it. Like my brother, and not like me xD

well can't wait for the next part
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Guess so.

Will work on Chapter Three tonight.

While you people are waiting...spoilers! lol.
The next chapter shall contain one of Henry's (maybe only) friend...the return of Brother David...and some more news that should shock Henry's mother!
 
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Chapter three...part one

As stated, have worked on Chapter three, not much done, but enough to put up. Hope you people enjoy it.


Chapter 3: “Sunday’s The Worst…”

After a few minutes I heard a knock upon my bedroom door.
“Hey, slugger. Are you okay in there?” asked my dad’s voice through the door.
Bugger all, Claire must have told him what happened on the stairs.
I did not respond, I lifted my head from my pillow and sat upon my bed, brushing away my tears hurriedly. My face felt hot, it was probably slightly red from my anger and crying.
“Son? Are you allright?” I heard him say as he opened the door to my room and wandered in.
“Yeah, I’m fine dad,” I stated, feeling a bit awkward for him to still call me his son.
He took one look at me and sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. It was obvious from the expression on his face he knew I was not all right.
“Listen, Henry, you have got to understand that what I want is the best for you and your mother,” he stated sincerely.
I suddenly felt angry at him, despite the fact he was the one to check to see if I was fine.
“You liar! Mum told me how you left us because you didn’t care about us!” I snapped, feeling the tears start to well up inside my eyes again.
“Is that what she told you? Henry, it is true I left your mother, but it had nothing to do with you,” he stated plainly.
“R-really?” I asked, not sure about anything anymore.
“Yeah, really,” he responded and came and sat beside me on my bed.
He leaned in and hugged me gently.
“You know how important you are to me. Your mother and I…just had issues,” he explained as I embraced his hug, the anger fading away.
I didn’t need to understand because I knew what he meant. But it was good to have my dad on good terms with me again. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
“So, how about you come down and have some cake and open your present from me? It’s still your birthday, remember?” he stated playfully with a smirk, letting go of me and rousing my hair.
I grinned at him, knowing it was one of his quirky ways of showing affection for me. I nodded slowly after he tussled my hair.
“Okay,” I said as cheerfully as best I could.
I wasn’t a complete dipstick to forgive everything just like that, but when my dad was concerned, it was best to pretend everything was fine after one of his “man-to-man” talks.
My dad laughed and stood up, going out of my room and I heard his footsteps on the stairs as he was going down.
My dad was a decent bloke, though I knew the routine. When he and my mother knew I was upset, they’d fight over who should go comfort me. It was mostly my dad because he would say to my mum that she would shout at me. That was a half-truth, really. My mum shouts a lot, but not much at me. She does have a strict tone in her voice, but she never yelled at me. But my mum would give up the fight because dad would say it.
I sighed to myself slightly, the orange suit was wrinkled and the collar was uneven because of when I wrenched off the clip-on tie. My hair was also tussled but I did not care how I looked. There was nobody at my party to judge me on my dress sense, aside from my mum.
I stood up from my bed and wandered out into the upstairs hallway. The stairs were right beside my room on the left-hand side. I made my way across to the banister and started jumping down the stairs, one at a time. I used to do it when I was younger and liked to do it to irritate my mum.
After getting downstairs, I walked into the kitchen since the door was open. My mum was sitting on a stool, a pursed look on her lips. I could tell from the moment she saw my tardy nature that she wanted to comment about it but did not want to give Dad the satisfaction.
My dad and Claire were standing behind the kitchen counter, a parcel in each of their hands. A foot or two away from them on the table was my birthday cake. It was nothing special, just a plain-looking cake with thirteen candles waiting to be lit.
“Come on over here, slugger. Claire and I have gifts for you,” stated dad with a wry grin.
I was somewhat happy but the threatening yet invisible cloud was hovering over me, I could tell my mum was staring daggers at my back. I tried to knock the feeling off by looking cheerful and walked over to where Dad and Claire stood.


(To be continued...)
 
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Chapter 3..part 2

-~-Daisy-~- said:
yaaay *applauds*
cant wait to hear more!
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Glad you like it. Don't know what part you were applauding though. lol.
Well, here be more.



(Chapter 3, Part 2)

Claire presented her gift to me first. I grasped the wrapped up present and ripped it open, displaying what appeared to be a box of wooden soldiers. I was a little bit disappointed but grinned at Claire.
“Gee, thanks Claire,” I stated a mite over-enthusiastically.
“Yeah, sorry if it wasn’t what you were expecting. I just never bought a present for a kid your age before,” Claire stated.
‘Obviously,’ I thought to myself but put on a brave face and put down the box with wooden soldiers on the countertop as my dad handed down to me a small present that was probably only as big as his index finger.
I tore away the crude wrapping paper and saw before me a lighter. It had a flick-open top with what looked like gold plating on the inside. Now, this gift I was slightly impressed with. My dad always got me the coolest stuff, maybe also the most dangerous just to watch my mother freak out.
“Cool,” I stated suddenly, inspecting the lighter with delicate care.
For that brief instant, I forgot my mum was hovering around, but she was unable to keep silent anymore about this.
“Mitch! That is far too dangerous for Henry to have!” snapped my mother with desperation.
“Oh, come now Caroline. The boy’s thirteen, I’m sure he is old enough to handle it, right, slugger?” asked my dad to me.
I stopped looking at the lighter and glanced up at my dad’s face, slowly nodding my head. I didn’t care what my mum thought at that moment, the lighter was cool and it wasn’t like I would burn the house down. Flipping the lid back on top with a flick of my wrist, I placed the lighter into my orange plaited pants.
“See, Caroline? Our son is a natural,” stated dad smugly to mum.
Mum did not say anything else but I knew that look on her face. She was against this in a big way.
My birthday went for thirty minutes, nothing much else happened besides we were all having cake. But, then, as my dad put down his empty plate, he stated something my mum and me were not expecting yet again.
“Claire and I have decided to move into Dunsville for a while,” he stated clearly.
I heard my mum’s fork clatter onto her plate.
This did not disturb dad for he had learnt to ignore my mum over the years.
The tension in the air was so thick, I could tell mum and dad would get into another fight soon.
“Does that mean I’ll see you tomorrow in Church, dad?” I asked, not really caring but wanted to keep the fight at bay.
My dad did not seem to expect this question, but then again he wouldn’t, he had never went to Church with mum and me when we were together as a family. Maybe that was one of the ways my mum was able to escape from dad, so she’d be able to watch Brother David do his sermons.
But, eventually my dad smiled at me.
“Yes, son. We shall join you and your mother at church tomorrow,” stated my dad.
Claire did not seem perturbed by the notion. Maybe she went to church on a regular basis. But, she smiled sweetly and I could judge by that smile she thought it was a good idea.
Mum on the other hand was not as enthusiastic about it. She stood up from her chair and walked over to the counter, placing her plate down with slight force.
“Well, Henry, it is getting late. Would you kindly set the dishes in the dishwasher for me?” asked my mum in a tense but curt tone.
I glanced at the kitchen clock that was beside the refrigerator.
“But, it’s only one o’clock…” I started to say but my mother interrupted me.
“I am sure of that Henry, but your…father may need to be elsewhere,” she stated sharply, glancing at my dad.
My dad seemed to understand he stretched the limit this time and slowly nodded his head.
“Yes, it was time we were off. Need to have a conference with the real estate people about finding a house,” he stated as he and Claire wandered out into the hallway.
Mum and I followed them, my mother holding my shoulder slightly as my dad opened the front door.
He turned and smiled at me kindly.
“Well, nice party, slugger. See you tomorrow, okay?” he asked to me in a farewell manner.
“Yeah,” I managed to say before my mother squeezed my shoulder.
Claire smiled at me and my mother, turning in a beautiful way that almost made my jaw drop open again.
“It was nice meeting you both. I sure hope we get to become great friends and neighbours,” she stated kindly.
“I’m sure we shall,” stated my mother with a false voice.
After that, my dad and Claire left the house, shutting the door behind them. We heard their car drive away until we heard it no longer.
My mother swirled me around, a look of disdain upon her face.
“Get upstairs and changed Henry. Then clear up the mess in the Kitchen,” she stated evenly.
I nodded to her, knowing it was better for me to do as I was told because of the state she was in.
She let go of me and wandered into the Living Room.
I went upstairs and had a bath, then went to my bedroom to change into some other clothes. I carried the orange suit draped over my left arm as I was wearing a towel around my waist. Dropping the suit to the floor, I rummaged in my chest of draws to find some clothes. I changed into a white t-shirt with a thin red collar, blue jeans, white socks and my white sneakers. I was actually grateful not to wear the plaited orange suit anymore.
But, before I forgot, I took out the lighter my dad had given me from the pocket of the orange plaited pants and felt the lighter within my hands. Flicking open the top, I pressed down firmly and it clicked, a spark ignited and a small flame came from the metal area. Smirking slightly, I knew my best friend would like to see this. I stopped pressing and the flame went out, the metal area slightly warm from where the flame once was. Flicking the top back on, I placed it into my jeans pocket before going downstairs again, dumping the orange suit and the towel from my bedroom into the laundry hamper as I went past the bathroom.


(to be continued...)
 
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Chapter 3, part 3...

-~-Daisy-~- said:
aaaaaaaaaah ok
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Well, you saw how he was with his son. He may be a louy husband, but he is a decent father.

Anyway, here be more. It isn't that long, but should be good enough.
We get more info on Henry's friend and why Henry does not have that many friends.


(Chapter 3, Part 3)

I went into the kitchen after heading downstairs, clearing up the plates until there was nothing left on the countertop besides my wooden soldiers and the rest of my birthday cake.
After placing the plates in the dishwasher, I picked up the plate with the remainder of my cake and opened the refrigerator door with my free hand. After placing it in the fridge, I shut the fridge door and sighed to myself as I turned to my wooden soldiers in their box. I did not feel like touching them for some reason. I mean I knew Claire put in the effort but wooden soldiers were kids toys, not for a person like me. I decided then and there that my Dad and Claire were more alike then I thought, they both probably thought of me as a little kid.
‘I’ll take them to my room later,’ I thought to myself as I left the kitchen into the hallway.
With my hand on the front door, I wondered to myself wether it was worth telling my mum I was going out. Though better judgement told me not, I felt in my heart to at least tell her I was going. Because it would only make her worry what I may be up to, without any notion of where I was.
Grudgingly I let go of the doorknob of the front door and turned to the right, which led to the Living Room.
I walked into the Living Room, seeing my mum sprawled on the couch reading a woman’s magazine.
“Mum, I’m going out for a while,” I muttered, my voice sounding slightly odd as I uttered these words.
My mum glanced up at me with a look of curiosity.
“Where are you going?” she asked me with a slight sternness in her voice.
“Just going over to my friend’s place,” I stated casually.
My mum looked sceptical, she would not let me go that easy.
“Which friend?” she asked me.
“Well...” I started but my mum interrupted me once more.
“I hope it’s not that no-good Tom Eccles, Henry. That boy is a bad influence,” stated my mother with disdain.
I was going to protest on Tom’s behalf, but knew better of it. Because what my mother said was true. Tom Eccles was probably the first kid on the list of having a bad reputation. I was second on the list because the other parents that went to our Church thought I was a bad influence on their kids, since they were accustomed in this God-loving community to my mother’s “wily ways” with men. It wasn’t that bad as they put it, but my mother was a big flirt. That was why I didn’t have that many friends and why nobody wanted to come to my birthday party. Also, since I had been hanging out with the “bad kid” in this small community, it was no wonder they thought I was rotten as well.
So, I did what any kid in my situation would do, lie to my mother.
“No, I plan to go see Billy Watkins,” I muttered flippantly to my mother, picking the kid I knew was like Jesus to this community.
“Good, hopefully he will teach you a thing or two that is pro-active,” stated my mother.
‘That’s because you don’t let me go anywhere,’ I thought sourly but just nodded.
“Very well, but don’t stay out too late,” muttered my mother as I left the Living Room and went back into the Hallway.
I was not sad at lying to my mother. I could make up for it in Church tomorrow. Besides, she had no idea what Tom was really like. He had a personality unlike any other in this town, something special. He had a bad boy attitude, only because of what people originally thought of him.
Opening the front door, I closed it behind me as I left. I felt free at last!
Grabbing my red bicycle, I hopped onto it and started pedalling like mad. I left my house and driveway behind me in a cloud of dust.


(to be continued...)
 
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Chapter 3, part 4

-~-Daisy-~- said:
great cant wait to see the next part
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lol...maybe you won't want to see it.
It has a kid smoking...well, almost smoking.
I'll put it up for you all to see. It is another short-ish part.

Warning/Notes: Smoking for kids is bad. I don't encourage it. This is merely a case when the teen (14 years old) is in the habit of smoking.
Let it be known though that he has some remorse over it, however small that remorse is, it is still there.
And with that in mind, on with the story.


(Chapter 3, Part 4)

It was a great feeling. The wind ran across my body as I pedalled, the trees and the dirt road going by me as I cycled along, pumping the pedals as fast as my legs were able to.
The dirt road broadened slightly, houses on both sides of the street as the trees thinned out until it looked like an odd Suburbia. The more expensive houses and the town district lay ahead, but this was where my friend lived, a mere ten-minute ride on my bike from my house.
Tom Eccles lived in a shack, really. His father was a lazy bum who did nothing to improve the state they were living in.
I found Tom on his front porch. He was gazing out at the street with eyes that were so serious it was scary.
He was leaning against the wooden post, wearing a black jacket and white shirt underneath. His blue jeans were slightly torn and his black trainers looked scuffed. He seemed to smile as I rode up his short driveway, which looked in need of a trim.
I stopped my bike up against the porch steps and got off, walking over to my best friend.
“Hey, Henry, how are things?” asked Tom with a wry grin.
He pushed back his mangy black hair fringe slightly away from his eyes.
“Nothing much, just my birthday,” I stated as casually as I could.
Tom’s eyebrows seemed to rise slightly.
“Well, in that case, how about a smoke?” he offered as he took out a packet from his jacket pocket and put a cigarette between his lips.
Tom Eccles is a year older than me and I respected him deeply as a friend. But when he offered me the cigarette, I merely shook my head.
“Nah, man. You know I don’t smoke,” I stated with a smile on my face.
I recalled a time when I had asked Tom why he smoked. He responded to me that if God wanted him not to, He had better do something about it. This seemed to make sense, though Tom never smoked in front of adults, meaning he at least knew it was wrong.
Tom shrugged and put the pack back into his jacket pocket. I watched him as he tried looking for his matches.
“Hold on, I got it,” I stated to him.
Tom seemed confused until I pulled out the lighter my dad gave me for my birthday and tossed it over to him. He caught it as it landed in his hands and inspected it before flicking open the lid.
“Cool,” he merely stated before igniting the small flame and lighting his cigarette.


(to be continued...)
 
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tottyfruitty said:
Good to hear it. Smoking is uck!
But so many kids smoke now, even from the age of 12 :eek:.
Keep writing :)
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lol...yeah, smoking is bad.
Yeah, I know. Just did not want people on here to freak out a 14 year old starts smoking.
I shall in due course, have to know where to go from here...lol.
As you may have guessed already, the surprise that Henry's mother did not like is the fact her ex is moving into the neighborhood with Claire and will be in the church sermons on Sundays (which is tomorrow in the story).
We have met Henry's friend, the somewhat apprehensive Tom Eccles.
Brother David's return is in a later time....still working out the kinks.
 
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(Chapter 3, part 5)

Here is part 5 of chapter 3.....


(Chapter 3, Part 5)

Tom threw back my lighter to me and I caught it. I put it back in my trouser pocket, watching him as he took a long puff on his cigarette and blew the smoke out of his mouth after taking the cigarette out from his lips in between two of his fingers.
He looked tired to me but in a cool way. He was my best friend and I could tell him anything. So, I told him the whole situation as he listened silently, only smoking his cigarette in a thoughtful manner.
After explaining everything I stopped talking to await Tom’s answer. Sometimes he gave the best advice ever.
“Well Henry, you’re basically screwed, man,” stated Tom simply.
I was a little upset by this advice from my friend.
“You got to be sh*tting me! Is that all the best advice you can give me??” I asked him in an almost desperate voice.
“Hey, I call it like I see it, pal,” muttered Tom plainly, shrugging his shoulders.
“But what about tomorrow?” I asked him.
“What about it?” he asked then after the look I gave him he seemed suddenly sheepish. “What’s tomorrow?”
”Tomorrow is Sunday, Tom. You know, church day,” I stated.
“Sunday’s the worst. It drives a kid nuts it does,” stated Tom as he adjusted his black jacket slightly.
Tom was a part of our Church community, possibly the only redeeming feature of Tom to the other members of the fold.
“Yeah, man. I know that, but my mum makes me go anyway. It isn’t like I can just not go. It will make it worse that my dad will be there, I’m sure of it,” I stated, feeling a little down at the turn of events a mere hour or so ago.
“Dude, I said it before and I’ll say it again, you are screwed. Best to deal with it and get it over with,” stated Tom.
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered sarcastically to Tom before leaving his front porch and riding back home on my bicycle.


Sunday had come. I had wished last night that it would not happen but that sort of thing only happens in the movies or to rich people. I knew it would come, the dread dawned upon me as the sun rises into the sky at daybreak.
It was a morning service at the Church. We had to be there at eight-o-clock in the morning. I was not wearing my orange plaited suit this time but my Sunday best, my Church Robe that made me look like I was wearing a dress. It reminded me of how Brother David looked in his Priest robe, but the difference was that my robe was white and Brother David’s was black. Being a part of the Angelic Proclaim, a youth group of churchgoers, was not exactly the most thrilling experience of my young life. I hated it when I was younger and I hated it now. But, my mother had a very watchful eye on me that I was unable to do a thing about it. I once tried to hide my robe when I was eight but my mother found it anyway and told me to be more careful with it. The other members of the Angelic Proclaim were mostly boys near my age, around ten to fourteen. There was of course Billy Watkins, the smug kid who was an example to us all of how an Angelic Proclaim should behave. His usual flunkies were Roger and Ted Fairview, the twin brothers whom worshipped Billy Watkins almost as much as the adults did. There were a few all right guys like Fred Mandel and Scott Pinto. Then there was the losers, Tom Eccles and I, Henry Dawson. An odd group, I guess, who were mostly God-abiding examples in the small town of Dunsville. We did not do much as a group, we just sang together every Sunday before and after the sermon. We did not hang out much together, besides Tom and I.


(To be continued...)
 
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Haha Tom and Henry remind me of chavs haha or those kids that are really annoying by hanging out by your street or infront of your house huffing and puffing. Great description!
 
tottyfruitty said:
Haha Tom and Henry remind me of chavs haha or those kids that are really annoying by hanging out by your street or infront of your house huffing and puffing. Great description!
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lol...okay, cool.
Don't know what chavs are, though. lol.
Well, it his street area, his father's property...so he can smoke there if he wanted to. lol.

Anyway, thanks.
Next scene depicts the "family" in Church. This of course is where we meet Brother David once again.
And apparently he and Mitch have a history...though it is only hinted at.


(Chapter 3, Part 5)

As my mum parked outside the Church, I could tell she was also dreading this day because as soon as she looked out her window, Dad and Claire were in clear view. My Dad also wore his Sunday best, possibly the only fashionable suit he had. Claire meanwhile was wearing a simple white dress with light cream flowers patterned upon it. It reached just below her knees and seemed to flow effortlessly as she walked.
Shaking my head slightly to take my mind off it, I watched as my mum unbuckled her seatbelt with resolve and got out of the car. I followed suit, knowing though this day was not a day for me to enjoy I also did not want to not go.
My dad and Claire appeared to wait for us, walking with us as we made our way to the Church entrance.
Brother David stood soundly by the open doors, greeting those of his parish with a warm smile and a friendly handshake.
I noticed his face falter slightly however when he saw our larger group then he was accustomed to seeing.
“Mitch, how nice to see you again,” stated Brother David as nicely as possible as he shook my Dad’s hand. “It’s nice to see you back with our flock.”
“Well, you know how it is, David. Or should I call you Brother now?” asked Dad.
Brother David seemed gentile enough in his manner but I noticed he held onto my father’s hand longer then he should.
“Caroline stated you were in a coma,” said Brother David with an even tone.
My dad seemed slightly shocked at this, in fact, so was I. I never knew my mother said things like that. Then again, with the way he treated her, I was half surprised she did not say he was dead.
“Did she? Well, I got better,” responded my dad in good humour but behind that there was a slight note in his voice that found it beyond amusing.
Brother David did not comment on this as he let go of my dad’s hand. He drew his attention down to me, giving my mother an opportunity to give my father a sour look.
“So, young Henry, I heard you turned thirteen yesterday. I’m sorry it seemed to happen under circumstances beyond our control,” stated Brother David kindly to me.
In English, I think he meant he was sorry my Uncle died on the day of my Birthday.
“It’s no biggie,” I replied before my mum nudged the back of my head with her elbow. “I mean I shall miss my Uncle greatly, Brother David.”
“Still, you shall all have time to pray,” stated Brother David as my mother and I wandered inside. I didn’t want to continue on inside, but my mother pushing against me gave me no choice in the matter.
I gave a quick glance back and my Dad was introducing Claire to Brother David. Brother David had this look in his eyes, an almost regrettable look but at the time I thought nothing of it since I was too busy looking at Claire. It was hard to believe she was twenty-five years old, but that was apparently what my mother muttered to herself over and over at the dinner table last night. My mother had hardly acknowledged me then, like so many other times.
“Henry, eyes front,” I heard my mother’s stern voice say.
Right now I had wished she would ignore me this one time. I hesitantly turned my head to look to the front of the Church as we were walking past the almost half-full aisles.
I saw Billy Watkins with his mother and father. He looked all prim and proper, the smug dipstick. He was a rather weedy-looking kid my age though was a good three inches taller then me in height. His family was one of those lots that lived on the Suburbia-like Street and did not really come across to the dirt-side of the town.
Heaven forbid they get themselves all messy!
I don’t know why I hated Billy so much, maybe because I thought he had things pretty easy. Clean clothes, clean hairstyle, decent folks and a whole community thinking you were the next Jesus. Well, nearly the whole community. Tom and I did not favour his types, especially since he snitched on us at any opportunity.
I drew my attention away from Billy and his family and glanced at the altar that had a huge cross on the stone block that had red drapes hanging over it. Yesterday that was where Uncle Rich’s coffin and corpse was. Now it was empty aside from a few lighted candles and some gold-looking ornaments decorated upon it.
I sat by my mother in the second row, glancing back to see Tom sitting by himself in his whitish robe at the last row of aisles in the back.
Tom’s father never came to Church. He was probably too drunk to remember what day of the week it was. I began to wonder, if Tom hated Sundays so much, why did he bother to come to Church?
This thought was present in my mind as I turned back around as my father and Claire sat behind us. Claire gave me a slight smile before I turned back to glance at the front of somebody’s back. I was too short to see the altar from where I was but at that point I did not really care anymore. My mind was still nagging at that question I asked myself earlier.
I hardly acknowledged as Brother David shut the doors as the church bell rang eight times to signify the time. I did not notice Brother David pass by my seat, his robes lightly brushing by with a swishing noise. It was only until I heard Brother David’s words that I snapped back to my senses.


(To be continued...)
 
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