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Thomas 30
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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Thomas' Story: Cumin' of Age
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by T. F. Yank
----------------------------[ Disclaimer ]-----------------------
The following story is purely fictitious. Any resemblance to real
life simply means I got lucky. It contains consensual and non-
consensual sex between minors (High School). If such things offend
you, please hit 'N' or however you abort reading messages on your
system.
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*** W A R N I N G ***
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There is a particularly _UGLY_ rape scene depicted in chapters 23 -
26. You may wish to skip these chapters if you find such subject
matter offensive.
-----o0o-----
Due to the length of the entire story (37 chapters in all), Please
do not ask me to e-mail you any parts that you might have missed.
Comments, criticisms (constructive or not), and even flames are
permissable however. (Hell, I've been here for a while and STILL
haven't received even one flame. Starting to feel left out [grin])
----------------------------[ Enjoy ]-----------------------
-- Chapter Thirty
There was no one home when he got there. He was relieved he didn't
have to answer any of his mother's questions just yet. He headed up to
his room and laid upon the bed.
He remembered how pitiful Debbie had looked. He tried to imagine
what kind of animal could have done such a thing. He worried about how
something like this might change Debbie. Change the way she felt about
him. Change how they felt about each other.
He had heard stories about girls who were raped. How they couldn't
stand to have a man touch them again. And how the boyfriends sometimes
didn't want anything more to do with the girl. Almost as if she was
somehow the cause of what had happened.
He was horrified by what had happened to Debbie. But he didn't feel
horrified of her. He wanted more than ever just to hold her, let her
know he cared for her. He wanted to take the horrible memories from
her. He wished he could simply hold and kiss her, and by doing so,
make the pain go away.
He wondered about what would happen to them when Debbie left the
hospital. Could they go back to the way things were? He didn't think
so. He was sure she couldn't. How could she be so trusting and care-
free after having lived through that nightmare.
Somehow, he had to show her that the entire world was not like that.
That the world could be a warm and loving place. And there were still
people in this world who could be gentle and caring.
He laid there, wondering how he would do all that. Lost in thought,
he didn't hear the knock on his door, nor notice it opening.
"Thomas? Are you okay?" his mother asked, entering his room.
Startled by her voice, he sat up.
"Are you okay? Can I get you something?" she asked, concerned.
"I'm okay. I was just thinking," he answered, feeling very
uncomfortable.
"Did you go to school today?"
"No. I spent most of the day over at Louanne Raster's house. Her
mother took us to see Debbie up at the hospital after lunch."
"Is the girl going to be all right?"
"I dunno, Mom. Mr. Williams said the doctors weren't sure. They
said that physically, she would be okay. But they're worried about her
mental health."
"Oh sweetheart. I'm so sorry about this morning. I didn't know.
When I heard at work how horrible it must have been for her, I . . ."
"Please Mom, not now."
"But Thomas. I was such a fool this morning. I just want to . . ."
"I can't talk about it now. Please? I just want to be alone. I
said some pretty mean things to you, too, and I'm sorry I did. But
right now, I just need to be alone."
His mother reached out to touch him, her hand stopping just short of
making contact.
"I'm sorry, baby," she said as her hand dropped to her side. "Think
you'll be wanting supper, later?"
Thomas fell back on the bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling. "I
dunno," he replied. His mother left, silently closing the door behind
her.
Evening came, and still Thomas could not bring himself to leave his
room. He heard his mother climbing the stairs, and realized it was
late. He pretended to be asleep when she entered his room.
She stood beside his bed for a moment, watching him. Leaning over,
she softly kissed his forehead. She took a blanket from the bottom of
his bed, and gently covered him. He heard her slip from the room,
leaving him alone in the darkness.
When he awoke the next morning, he didn't remember when he had
finally fallen asleep. He felt groggy, as if he hadn't slept very
well. And he had faint recollections of dreams, horrible dreams. But
the harder he tried to remember their details, the more they faded into
nothingness.
He got ready for school, and headed downstairs. His mother was
already in the kitchen making breakfast.
"Good morning," she said to him. "Your breakfast will be ready in a
minute."
"I'm not really hungry. I'll just . . ."
"Now you listen to me, young man. I know you're upset. You want so
much to help that poor girl. But you won't be helping if you make
yourself sick. Now you'll sit down there and eat what I put in front
of you."
Thomas had hoped he could avoided this. He still didn't want to
talk to his mother about Debbie, about their relationship. And he felt
very guilty about how he had behaved yesterday. But he knew from her
tone of voice, she wouldn't tolerate his refusal.
Sitting down, he said, "Mom, about yesterday. I'm sorry."
"Never mind about that. You just eat," his mother replied, placing
his breakfast before him. Sitting opposite him, she said, "Now I have
a few things I want to say to you. I had all day yesterday to think
this over, and I realize I was wrong."
"Now, before you go jumping to the wrong conclusion, I still believe
you're too young to be involved in the kind of relationship you told me
about. But I can remember what it was like the first time I fell in
love. And I was wrong to judge that poor girl the way I did. I really
do believe there is too much evil in this world. And that Satan is the
root of it."
"But I was wrong to assume that girl, what was her name? Debbie?
Well, I was wrong to assume that she was bad. And I was wrong to
believe you couldn't think you were in love."
"I've tried to protect you from the evil that surrounds us. Maybe
I've tried too hard. And I know I have to learn to trust you. Trust
what you do. I can't be there all the time. And you have to learn
what's right and wrong for yourself."
"I realize you spoke to me in anger. And I didn't give you much of
a chance to explain. No, that's not right. You tried to explain, I
wasn't listening. Now I'm not promising that I'll change. But I will
try to be more understanding."
"I have had to live with much pain and disappointment in my life.
But I want you to know that you have never been the cause of my
suffering. So you go see that girlfriend of yours. And know that I am
happy that you've found someone. I just wish this thing had never
happened to the poor girl."
Thomas sat there, his mouth opened in astonishment. His mother had
never talked to him like this before. He didn't know what to say.
"You better hurry up and finish eating, or you'll be late for
school. And if Mrs. Raster can't take you and Louanne up to visit
Debbie this afternoon, I'll take you. Call me at work, and if
necessary, I take off early."
Thomas jumped up and went to his mother. Wrapping his arms around
her, he said, "I love you, Mom."
"Never mind that now. And don't leave your dirty dishes there for
me to clean up. There is no maid service in this house. And hurry up,
or you'll be late for school."
Thomas quickly placed his breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and
collected his school books. He headed for the door.
"And just what do you think you're going, young man?" his mother
called to him. "Where is my kiss?"
He raced back to where she sat, and kissed her. She wrapped her
arms around him and gave him a hug.
"Remember sweetheart, I do love you. I have always loved you."
He could see her eyes were moist, and was about to say something
when she pushed him away.
"Now go on. Hurry up. I'll see you tonight."
He gave her one last hug, and left. He found himself humming a tune
as he hurried to Louanne's house. It felt good knowing he and his
mother had made up. Now he could concentrate on Debbie and her
problem.
Arriving at the corner near Louanne's house, he was surprised she
wasn't there waiting for him. He wondered if she had changed her mind
about going to school. Or worse, what if something had happened to
Debbie? He ran to her house and rang the bell. Louanne answered the
door, carrying her books.
"Sorry. I'm running late this morning," she said.
"Is Debbie okay?" he asked, concerned.
"No change. Mom talked to her dad, last night."
"When you weren't waiting for me at the corner, I thought something
had happened."
"Oh Tommy, I'm sorry. It's just that my mom had to leave early.
And I kinda lost track of the time. I wish I didn't have to go to
school today. But I promised her I would. Mom said she'd be back
before we get home from school. She'll take us up to see Debbie then."
"Well, we better get moving then," he said.
The happiness he had felt with his mother was dampened as he again
thought about Debbie. He and Louanne walked to school, each too busy
with their own thoughts to talk.
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"Thomas' Story: Cumin' of Age" Chapter 30 - by T. F. Yank
Copyright © 1991, 1993 by DEH Enterprises. All Rights Reserved.
Permission is granted to distribute in electonic format, unaltered
and un-edited with this copyright statement intact. Hardcopies are
limited to single printing for private, non-profit use only.
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| \*/ "I'd buy you a green dress, but not a |
| Flying Yank | real green dress. That's cruel." |
| --------- + 'If I had a million Dollars' |
| [email protected] / \ -- Bare Naked Ladies |
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