Prude

Jameston

J a m e s t o n
(James-ton)
'Eston'

Eston loved his mother, but his father didn't.

Eston knew his father didn't love his mother because of how he treated her.

Eston vowed to never treat any female like his father treated his mother.

Eston was five when he came home upset that a girl kissed him on the lips. He could get cooties!

"Like father like son! I'm getting him started on girls at an early age." His father boasted to all his friends.

This alarmed Eston. Not only was it far from the truth, Eston didn't want to be like his father.

Eston was twelve when the eighteen year old babysitter touched him inappropriately.

When he tried to tell his father, his father clapped him on the back and congratulated him for going that far with a girl at that age.

He said, "sex makes you a man, Son. You should be proud that an older woman was interested in you! Use that to your advantage. Women are just things for men to play with. "

"No," Eston thought. Women were meant to be cherished and celebrated.

But what about boys? What were they meant for?

Eston was fifteen when his father came home drunk and started beating his mother.

Eston didn't know what to do but his fists did.

Eston still remembers that night vividly. He can't forget it.

Eston heard the front door slam and a wave of dread arose in his stomach. His father was home, and he was angry.

Eston tried to block out his father's yelling, until he heard something hit a wall and a small yelp soon follow.

That yelp had most definitely come from his mother.

He waited a moment until he started hearing her soft cries and his father screaming profanities at her.

He ran downstairs to find a scene of pure horror.

"You slut! I know you're sleeping with that guy from your work. You whore!"

His father looks up to find Eston at the foot of the stairs. "Oh look. It's my prude of a son who went and got himself raped by a girl! What a disappointment of a man!"

All Eston saw was rage when his father rammed his foot into his mothers stomach.

He remembers attacking his father. He remembers his mothers screams. He remembers being hit back, but he never felt the pain until afterwards.

He hit his father until his father wasn't moving. He hit him until he felt multiple hands drag him off of the unconscious bastards body.

Eston will never forget that night, and he will never be like his father.

Jameston is more than that. Sex doesn't make a man. His father wasn't a man. He was a monster. A man is someone who is kind, strong, encouraging, protecting, and uplifting.

Jameston may be a prude as his father would say, but it didn't mean he wasn't a man.

Hey, let me clarify what I meant by what makes a man! I wasn't saying that only men are strong and protecting, or that they have to be that all the time. Everyone has emotions, and everybody feels. But men are allowed to be weak at times as much as they can be strong.
Love,
Charlie