Pavane for a Lost Boy (Or Rather, How to Survive Loss after Rejection)

Chapter Forty-Three

Demario's POV

After a morning of final check-ups, I was finally back home with my foster family and was immediately told to get some rest. And I was grateful for it because that morning-after revelation with me and Oliver waking up with Ryan was something that I was not going to want to remember for a very long time. For all I could care, I wanted to erase that event from my mind and move on with life.

But with Theo Blake and Jillian Kendricks being on everyone's blacklist and the former teen now hopped on revenge and ready to do whatever it takes to get me out of the picture; you can pretty much guess that my life was definitely one soap-opera storybook- and not in a good way.

And it was getting old real quick since my failed suicide attempt was something that I wanted to break away from after a life of apathetic and emotional abuse from my now-dead parents and their precious golden children as my relatives gave me the boot.

I wish for thunder and lightning to kill you.

I wish for thunder and lightning to kill you.

And yet, I'm still standing and defying the odds. Go figure.

Anyway, I was now coming out from an afternoon nap and a hot shower to wash the cobwebs out of my mind and off my body before planning to head downstairs and get in a nice movie. But just as I was finishing up getting dressed in some sweatpants, I heard the doorbell ring before some interwoven conversation. "Demario?" Taylor's voice boomed from downstairs. "Come downstairs, please. You have some company."

"Coming," I hollered before slipping on a gray t-shirt and my flip-flops before leaving my bedroom and making my way down to the den.  I headed to the living room where I was greeted by both foster dads and two young Black women with tired stares yet wistful smiles. "Hello," I said uneasily to the young women before taking my seat. "Can I help you."

One of them, tall and athletic with dark-chocolate-brown skin, spoke first. "I'm Tiana Watkins," she introduced herself before gesturing to her more-curvy companion. "This is my cousin Tre'Cee Barker. And we heard about your near-death at that party. We would've come earlier when we heard about your suicide attempt and all, but we were out of town. Still, it's nice to know that you came out a survivor and all."

The other young woman named Tre'Cee nodded, her braided ponytail bouncing. "It made my heart stop when I heard about that," she piped up with a sharper Southern twang. "Demarcus and DeSean's kinfolks were dead wrong to treat you like that after they and their families got killed. Serves your brothers right for what they did to you."

I nodded. "You're here to talk about my relationship with my family and why you think that my parents, sisters, and brothers got what they deserved," I deduced.

"Yup," Tiana replied, her mouth popping on the "p." "Child, I don't know why a kid of you caliber had to deal with people like that for most of your life. Tre'Cee and I knew that we'd made the biggest mistake in dating your brothers' behinds if we'd known that they treated you like shit for almost all of your life. Our parents told us to leave them as soon as we saw Demarcus and DeSean use and abuse you like some football-training dummy. The day that we did one month before they bit the dust was when we did just that..."

FLASHBACK (One month before the tragedy)...

I was my bedroom pouring my mental energy into Demarcus' penultimate English essay while he and DeSean were in the living room with their lady friends as they were arguing on the latest subject: me. "Demarcus, I don't see why you and DeSean  gotta treat your brother like he's some live-in slave," I heard one of the ladies say, loud enough for me to hear while I ignored them. "You two and your family are the reason why we're breaking up in the first place."