Birth From The Waist

Chapter 23

Danny sat beside me on the bed comfortably laying into my pillow partially covered by the doona. He gazed into my brown eyes, nothing compared to the blue waves of emotion and tenderness that were reflected in the gorgeous cerulean of his.

He smiles at me, his pink lips stretching from one ear to the other. Such love and courage are present in this boy. A boy I’m taking advantage of, a boy I’m thinking of in dirty ways, the boy I pulled away from school especially in his final year. I’ve done so many guilty things, yet remarkably he stays, he views life in me, humanity. Would that change after I tell him my story? Will his perspective of me change from hope of redemption to bitter scorn and resentment, judging me like many narcissistic sociopaths? I hope not.

I will tell him everything, our relationship must be discreet or his life in danger. Words gets around about my new friend and that he knows all my dirty secrets, the other gang members will not hesitate to fire a bullet into his beautiful and intuitive brain. I must protect him and I will, at all costs.

“So you gonna tell me your story or should I fall asleep, this Egyptian linen is really comfy”, he says jokingly.

I smile at his handsome face. “I’m going to start, but again I want your full attention. You need to hear my entire story and I can’t have any form of disturbance whether it’s you gasping or criticising me ok?”

“I promise I won’t,” he assures me.

“Danny I’m not going to give you face contact whilst I tell you this story. I don’t want to see any facial expression from you that may make me halt the story. I’m going to look straight ahead so just listen,” I dictate.

“I’m all ears”, he says as he moves his luscious pink lips apart and projects his pearl-like coloured teeth.

“When I was younger I wasn’t a fugitive or a criminal, I was actually a really good boy. I’d always dreamt about being a detective or a lawyer or something similar. I did well in school. When I was younger my father passed away from illness. This left my mother to fend for me and my older brother and sister.

My brother was an uneducated fuck. All he cared about was making easy money and getting laid by the utmost sullied women. He was four years older than me, and two years older than my sister. He’s 32, not married, and rotting away in jail for a seven year sentence. When I was 18, I was excited about completing my school life. I wanted to go to university, wanting to do so many things with my life, attempting to keep away from the stereotype of Sydney West guys. My brother began drug dealing in an attempt to satisfy our needs and our desires. His name was Paul. Paul began to drug deal more and more often, the more money he made the more hooked he became. He tried to convince me to join him and quit school but I never listened. My mother had already moved overseas with her husband, which I didn’t get along with. She came and visited us every once and a while. Towards the end of my HSC year my brother forced me to help him with his work. I had to help him deal otherwise he would leave me to fend for myself. I had no option. He was paying my tuition, paying for all my lifestyles, all my desires.

I helped him for weeks and weeks. He dragged me along to his warehouses where he would meet with other gang members to swap news or products. It disgusted me. But the one thing I aimed in life was to never be like those men I saw. Fake. Lazy assholes who harmed people in order to make their money. I was bi back then. I had waves of emotions, teen angst flowing through my veins; and had a soft spot for men. One of my brother’s friends noticed this since he was also gay.

One day I was home alone, he had come to see my brother but wasn’t there. My sister was also absent. We had a flirty moment, which lead us into deep intimacy. I wanted to sleep with him. I directed him to my room where he pushed me onto the bed. We were taking slow steps at a time. He was a big bloke, large muscular, his face was not so much. I remember he reeked of cologne. As we were progressing to the last stage, he was ready to enter me. It clicked me then that I didn’t want to be the bottom, I’d always wanted to top. So I pushed him off me as quick as I could. Nothing. Not even a budge. He knew that I didn’t want to keep going but instead placed all his weight on me, pinned my arms down and mind you I was a young weak boy back then.