The Innocent Wolf -- Story

Uncertain's picture

Story, "The Innocent Wolf", 14/11/06

Preface:
I wrote this story because I was a bit bored~ Well here it is I hope you guys like~ ^^

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The Innocent Wolf

The atmosphere seemed utmost tense when Aryan Wayde joined the dinner table. The strong smell of the spaghetti bolognese stretched right across the room accompanied by a tint of mystery amongst his parents. Maybe Aryan was just paranoid as he was going to reveal a constant truth of his inner self to them tonight. This is it. My coming out.

Despite the suspense, Aryan thought of all those times how his mother said “I will always love you so much no matter what happens” while holding him in an amiable hug. She must’ve known all along but never said anything, Aryan thought as he shoved a huge spoonful of meatball into his mouth. Every time she thinks about it she would probably brush it off with a genuine smile, or dissolve the thought as she sips her coffee while reading the Daily Times. Aryan continued to speculate, as for dad, he’s a bold but easy-going person, with time he’ll understand. After the young boy convinced himself of his plan, he swallowed the contents in his mouth whole.

“No need to rush with that food dear,” his mum assured Aryan, “we wouldn’t want you to choke and suffocate.”

“Spare your worries Wanetta, that boy needs to actually choke to learn from his mistakes,” a low unhesitant voice of Aryan’s father responded.

“And you honey, please don’t speak while you’re chewing,” Wanetta continued to lecture. Her husband, Palmer, responded with a half-hearted nod.

“Aryan when you grow up and marry a woman don’t find someone so nosy and bossy like your mum,” Mr. Wayde attempted a joke but no one laughed.

“There’s something I would like to tell both of you tonight.” Aryan finally summoned his courage and started “But I want you to know I’ve always been like this, and I love both of you and still want both of you to love me the same”

“What’s the matter honey? Is something wrong?” Aryan’s mother asked as both parents gaze inquisitively into the young teen’s eye.

“Probably just feeling a bit sick in the head,” Palmer tried to joke again but only cracked himself in a short, unaccompanied laughter. “So… tell us Aryan, what made you say those things?”

“I’m being very serious mum and dad… well I don’t feel like hiding this anymore… well I’m…” Aryan paused and felt time warping into slow motion, then he eventually blurted “…gay.” He repeated himself like a monotonous tape that replayed itself “I’m. Gay. I like boys…”

This was when things got dizzy. He thought he saw his mum’s mouth dropping wide open. He awaited the reassurance of “it’s okay we still love you” to come out but it didn’t. Soon it was only the sobs of Aryan’s mum that echoed the complex of this room. Palmer held his wife close in one arm as he pointed at the shocked, isolated boy and accused.

“Who are you? No son of mine is going to be queer!”

The distraught boy stared at such an unexpected drama. He was lonely, lonelier than the angels. It broke his heart to see her mother collapse and wail so irrationally. He felt the weight of the world on him as he watched his father disowning him.

“This better be some sick joke you’re playing, tell us it is. Just tell us,” Aryan’s father’s voice pierced his heart sharp and deep.

Palmer only got the answer of an awkward silence from Aryan. This provoked the beast and infuriated him from the inside. He pushed the boy aside towards the wall and charged downstairs into his room to scan its contents. Aryan heard the ripping of his Jesse McCartney posters and the dislodging of his figurine collections. Little success did Palmer have as he only returned with a Young Gay America magazine that was hidden in Aryan’s desk drawer.

“Dad…” Aryan begun but before he finished his dad had already rolled the magazine up and started beating him down the stairs. Aryan’s mum frantically tried to grab his husband’s arm as she screamed more tears down her face. Palmer only responded by fending her off, swinging the stick sideways into her head and shouting,

“Don’t you try and tell me what to do with him! This sick boy needs to be disciplined! We loved him so much… but he had to hurt us like this!”

It was complete utter chaos.

Wanetta's limp willowy body lay sprawled on the stairs. Palmer gazed at the weapon in his hands in horror. "What have I done?" His eyes gaped at the offending stick as he dropped and shuddered with an apology that floated shakily across the thick atmosphere,

“Sorry honey, it’s all that kid’s fault… it would’ve been better if we never had him,” so Palmer got up and dragged Aryan by the collar like an expended corpse and threw him into his room. Palmer disappeared for a split second to come back with a suitcase and dumped it alongside Aryan.

“Five minutes to pack all the shit you can take then I want you to leave this house!” Palmer yelled followed by a deafening silence, but amongst all this fury and rage there was a drop of watery compassion hanging at the edge of his eyes. “Go.”

Aryan froze but soon realized time still flowed without any sympathy. Aryan blindly brought his belongings into a big bundle inside his suitcase then dragged his sorrow and disappointment along with it towards his house’s entrance - a house no longer to be his soon.

His mother spotted him and the suitcase from the stairs and gasped “Don’t… don’t do this Palmer, please don’t…”

“Honey Aryan and I have discussed this in his room, we both thought this was the only and best way,” Palmer grunted while eyeing Aryan simultaneously, urging him to nod in fearful compliance.

Suddenly epiphany struck Wanetta and she tried to hug her naïve son one more time to realize his unchanged innocent character. She knew she would hold on to him and clasp on to his flesh so tightly no matter what beating or anything else would make her separate her love and let him leave this home. But she reached out and Palmer obstructed her. She shouted but her efforts were in vain as she saw the door, along with all hope and truth, closing behind his beloved son.

Over the next few weeks Wanetta went behind her husband’s back, visiting numerous homeless shelters and posting notes to find Aryan on their notice boards. She prayed patiently and waited for Aryan to call. Her prayers were finally answered.

Ring Ring… Ring…

“Hello, this is Wanetta Wayde speaking”

“Oh dear Mrs. Wayde, is this the mother of Aryan Wayde?”

The mother’s eyes lit up with excitement and relief, but managed to calm herself down before speaking.

“Yes, I’m Aryan’s mother… an incident has happened and… well I couldn’t find him…”

“I’m Officer Wentworth, yes an incident has happened. We have your son…”

“Oh dear, but I’m still glad you called, can you tell me where he is so I can pick him up?”

“I’m sorry to say this, but I'm afraid not... there was some homophobic violence inside Paco House Homeless Shelter...” The officer’s voice continued in a disturbed tone.

“What happened? Is he in hospital? Or is he taken into custody?”

“No...o,” Wentworth choked, “Your son is dead.”

---Uncertain

Comments

raining men's picture

Nice

Nice but the father is just a little too unpleasant initially and the last few lines need tidying up - the final twist comes out a little silly
But nice style of dialogue

"Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suf-fer-ing"

hellonwheels's picture

Nice....and deep...

This morning my computer was being retarded, so I couldn't post. Anyway, your story is reallly on a deep level, it connects w/ the reader, though I feel as though I've read the same story before, and not written by you, at least a similar one. you could improve some of the details about the family and make a better picture of the dad though.

Mental wounds not healing, driving me insane, i'm goin' off the rails on a crazy train- the ozzman