The Gate

The locket ~~ 1

"What the hades?!" The man asks, his anger only rising as he see the horde of teenagers and college students in his house. "Dorian! Get these hoboes out of my house!"

The only not drunk person at the house party slowly makes his way across the vast living room to the front door, where his father stands red with fury.

"Hey pops." Dorian says nonchalantly, as if there isn't anything wrong.
"When I said 'have fun while I'm gone' this is not what I meant."

"You never specified." He sneers looking at his dad, all biffed up from his political meeting. "If you ever cared about your son more than your job, then maybe you would have checked the calendar to see it was my birthday today. And that a party was scheduled for tonight. Purposely so you wouldn't be here. You weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow."

"The meeting went so well, it ended early." Mr. Rooker says, reddening more out of embarrassment than anger, as the the entire room quiets. "Out all of you." He looks at his son as his friends shuffle out of the house with their belongings.

"Thanks Blake." Dorian says bluntly, lacing the simple line with as much sarcasm as possible, as he begins to pick up the trash and throw it away.

"Dorian, don't worry about cleaning up. I'll call the maids in the morning." Blake says.

"I hate relying on other people to do my stuff. I made the mess, I'll pick it up. If you ever even took the time to get to know me, you would know that."

"I'm sorry for forgetting your birthday." Blake looks at his son, Dorian stares back in disbelief.

"You didn't forget it. You never tried to remember it. You made her a promise you know? She would have never broken it." And with that, Dorian walks up to his room and shuts the door.

§§§

"Momma! Momma! Don't leave me! I don't like him. He doesn't even know me." A little boy screams as he is being left with a strange, unfamiliar man.

"My laoch beag, you will survive. You will thrive. He may not be the best man, but you can make the best of this. I'm sorry, but I have to go." The woman hugs the little boy, takes her locket off, and tucks it into his hand, closing his fingers around it with hers. "To protect you, and remind you." She stands up and looks at the man saying something, and gets into the shiny black car behind her.

The little boy screams and wails as his mother is taken from him, clinging on to the one thing he has left of her. The man drags him into the large mansion, trying to soothe him, but only does more damage.

"Your not my dad! Your not my dad!" The boy cries, "I want my mom back! Give her baaaa-"

Dorian wakes up suddenly to sweat covering his body, his heart racing, and his breath heavy. His shirt sticks to his body as he climbs out of his bed and walks into his bathroom. It's very plain, simple. He never wanted much, never really complained, unless it was about Blake, and never liked other people doing things for him. The day his mom had to leave was the day he vowed to not take advantage of this life, but use it to his advantage.

Due to his fathers abundant money and lack of involvement, Dorian was able to focus on a high education. He was liked by many for his generosity towards others, therefore had a lot of so-called friends. He knew most of them used him for their own benefit, but he didn't mind.

The only person he ever truly hated was Blake Rooker. Dorian's sperm donor. He didn't like to refer to him as 'dad'. It was too intimate. Blake took away Dorian's mom. He hated him for that. Because of Blake f-ing Rooker, Dorian wasn't able to be there for his mom when she died. All he got was a letter from her caretaker and a box from his mom that had a note on it to not open until he was 18.

The box!

Dorian rushes out of the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth, to the box that resides under his bed. He takes out his toothbrush and throws it towards the bathroom, swallowing his toothpaste, and grabs for the box wrapped in golden paper.

Dorian holds it in his lap, it's about the size of a shoebox. Carefully he removes the wrapping paper and opens the box.