Double Vision [boyxboy love story]

Double Vision [boyxboy love story] Pt. 11 {Adam's World}

This is a boyxboy story, which means boy on boy action.  Don't like, don't read.  This chapter is clean.  Oh, the usual routine: comment, vote... blahblahblah... oh, yeah, better fan, bitch!

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Adam’s World

Love.  I never understood the world completely.  It is four letters like lies, hate, and pain.  My story starts on the side of a highway.  Not romantic at all, especially one in hot Arizona.  This is where my beginning started from my first life and my second.  Here’s my explanation.  My mom dropped me off on the side of the road and yes, even if it’s America, they still do that.  They still put babies in garbage containers, we still have crime as bad as you, and we still have almost-dead poor people dying because no one can just give them a dollar bill.

            Life.  That’s a four letter word.  How can such a small world mean so much?  I was put in foster care and my step parents made me go to one place to another, I was kind of a nuisance to many.  I liked to rebel out.  When you are small enough to pass for a child, you tend to have to fight your way to the top.

            My brothers, sisters, and I were close, some of us were enemies, others friends, and some even strangers.  But we were all brothers and sisters, we were a family unit.  We couldn’t forget one another, because we are the only family we got.

            I remember my fifth foster home; I was ten at the time.  My foster mother was religious, too religious.  She used to make us sit in a circle and confess to one another, which was actually good.  It made me feel less of a pain in the ass.

            That’s when I admitted I did not like girls.

            Of course, they all spoke of “he’ll grow out of it” and “he’ll like ‘em later, the sucker”.  But it never came.  It was like a growth spurt that never came.  Which is a metaphor and the truth.  I used to pray when I was with her, prayed I could change.  To make someone, a single person out there, happy for me.  Maybe the mother I never had, maybe make her regret leaving me and come pick me up.

            But when I spoke of such things, they said: “I bet she left you there to die.”  She did.  I just never really wanted to admit it, especially when I so small and young.  My next foster home came when I was twelve, puberty began.

            I still didn’t grow an attraction towards a girl; no I grew one towards my “brother”.  Yes, an Alec/Alex moment.  It’s true.  It was my sixth foster home by now, moved in a year back when my last mom was taken because she took too many drugs.

            I remember sneaking glances, giving him sweet treats, and always following him.  Oh, and I left out: he’s sixteen.  Four years older and he knew about my attraction all along.

            I have nightmares about the time he exploded.  I embarrassed him in front of his girlfriend and he told me he thought I was sick… a waste of space… absolutely nothing to him.  It hurt.

            Hurt.  It’s a four letter word.  Like pain or dead.

            I had dry eyes, but that’s only because I was in shock.  I was… nothing.  I came in terms to myself.  This foster home had a woman who went by “Grams”, we were supposed to be calling her Grandmother but soon enough as we were comfortable, we called her lovable Grams.  She used to hold me, blow minty breath on my cheek and tell me how good I was.  She gave me that hat.  That cat-eared, dorky hat that I love to death.  It was the only thing given to me from the only person who cared about me.

            That boy.  The one I loved, he started to follow me.  It was sick.

            Sick.  Another four letter word.

            I was a toy to him.  We made out in the janitor’s closet, slept with one another in the abandoned gym, he toyed with me.  I was his personal little whore.  He didn’t care about me.

            A bad term but unbelievably true.

            Grams died one summer.  I was sent to live with a prestige family, Evans, who hated my kind.  Of course, by God’s sick sense of humor, the boy I loved came with me.  They found us in “lover’s” embrace.

            For those years, I went to the camp.  I found my time there more enjoyable than staying with the Evans during summer.  I found it fun trying to get rid of people.  It was much easier to push people away before they run from you.

            But it changed.  It changed.

            “Hey.”

            It was a single word that changed my life and I sat.

            “My name is Adam. You know, like Adam and Eve.”

            A nod.  No reply.

            “And your name?”

            Then with his angelic voice, the boy answered, “Ethan.”

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Author's Note: Hey, you can read Adam's story in finding true love in "Love is Blind".  Go to my profile and read it! :)