Sad Son Pt. 01Sad Son Pt. 01


This is a 6-part story that provides plenty of fun. The story builds as the main character grows as a person. Initially, the main character is hard to like, but he grows on you, have faith. This chapter is light on sex, but it gets better over the story.

Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is, a fun story. Special thanks to rancher46 and RF-Fast for editing my story.


Chapter 1 — Why I am me

Oh yes, kiss me, Michelle Hurley. Mmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmm. Your hair is so pretty. Those eyes are mesmerizing, your nose ….

“HAL! Wake up,” yells Andrea, and I get pushed on my arm. I don’t move. Now I get punched.

“Thanks, bitch,” I say to my sister Andrea, as I’m sitting up, waking up from a nice dream. Across the hall from me, I see the door is open. I sprint for the door, quickly strip, and jump in the shower. Ahhhh.

There is banging on the door by Becky, “Come on, you’ve been in there forever! HURRY UP! I have school.”

I scream, “I just got in here! Hold your horses!”

Becky shouts, “You have three minutes, and I am throwing you out.”

They all get fifteen minutes; I get five. That’s my life in a nutshell. I’m the youngest of eight in the family. There is a grand total of one boy, me. My parents wanted a boy so bad that there was another child every year until I came along. We all have a birthday in July.

I barely get my underwear on when the door opens. My arm is grabbed, and I am tossed out of the washroom. Now the princess can take a shower. With eight of us, we need a third shower. With no parents, all the money is reserved for bills and college for them. I’m not smart; I’m artistic. I play the guitar that I bought at a garage sale. It’s an old beat-up, no name, six-string acoustic guitar.

It’s scratched, needs new strings, and has magic marker drawings. In a word, it’s ugly as sin.

I couldn’t read music until junior high when I joined the band where they taught me to read music. Up until then, I listened close to a song and repeated it by sound. The sound is much different when an amplifier projects the sound using a speaker. I can’t play the same way as they do. They have special devices to adjust the sound and amplifiers to do concerts. I could repeat every note, riff, and chord with the best of them on my $3.00 guitar with time.

I grab a bagel and am on my way to school. We only live a few blocks away; that’s the one break I get in life. Even though I’m a senior now, many kids pick on me. Even the younger ones do it. My clothes aren’t good enough, my hair isn’t nice enough, I’m not smart enough, and I’m not good at sports.

There are several cute girls at school, but none of them will look at me, although a few have defended me if the guys start punching me. I’m picked last in the gym, and nobody wants to be my partner in class when we need a partner. I always end up with the teacher.

I think you get the idea. My life kind of sucks. It sucks at school. I have no friends; I don’t fit in with a group. Even at home, the best I can do is stay out of the way. My sisters are hot. They know I look at them, and that makes them mad. So, I’m better off not being around them. Not one of them has a job. They’re either in college or grad school to become doctors, lawyers, engineers, and not sure about others. All I know is that nobody ever moves out.

They don’t date, so I hear buzzing and screams until late at night. On the positive side, they’re all intelligent. Eventually, I will know a doctor, lawyer, and engineer. I don’t see how driving a train will help me, but it must be hard if you need grad school.

I don’t know it yet, but today will change my life forever.

Chapter 2 — School

I am having one of the worst days ever. First I lose my lunch money. Someone probably stole it while I was at PE. I flunked a history exam, I lost my English paper, which I worked a week on. Again, someone probably stole it. I got punched twice today. A kid used a marker on my shirt. My sisters are going to be pissed at me. Since I have no money, I sit in the library. I put my head down in my hands and softly cry.

If anyone knew I was crying, it would be much worse. I had only felt worse when I was told that mom and dad died in a plane crash coming home from Jamacia. That was the beginning of my misery. It never got better. It’s all caught up to me now, as how truly pathetic I am. Here I am, eighteen years old. Too scared to ask a girl out, and I’m crying in the library.

Then it got worse.

“Awww, is the little baby is crying,” says the asshole Brad Stevens.

I hear his possie of girlfriend’s giggle at me. I ignore him. I don’t want them to see me. I rub my eyes to try and hide the evidence.

The next thing I know, I am on the ground. The asshole pushed me right off my chair. I am pissed off. I am sick and tired of people picking on me. I blew up. I have energy flowing through my body. I feel indestructible. Time Bolu Escort to teach this asshole a lesson. I stand up, turn around, and throw the hardest punch I can at his face. He ducks, and I miss him altogether.

Now Brad is mad that I took a swing at him. He returns the favor to my face.


“Hal! Hal! Wake up,” says our eighty-year-old nurse that doesn’t wear a bra. I get hit in the face several times with her breasts as she’s attempting to wake me up. Ewwwwww!

She does look relieved that I have woke up.

She asks me, “Do you want to explain why you have a black eye?”

I can’t look at her as I say, “Nope.”

She tries again, “You’re going to get suspended for fighting.”

I don’t say anything. There’s no point. I know how this is going to work out already.

She pokes me, “Tell ME!”

I’m snarky as I say, “What’s the point. He hit me. My eye is swollen shut. I will get suspended for a week, and nothing will happen to him.”

She laughs at me, “You know there’s a policy that when there’s a fight, both people are suspended.”

It’s my turn to laugh at her, “Tomorrow there is a big football game. No way they will suspend the star quarterback for hitting me.”

She tries to make me feel better, “Schools in this area aren’t like that. Here, put this icepack on your eye for fifteen minutes. Brad, here is an icepack for your hand. I want you by the window, away from Hal.”

Fifteen minutes later, the principal walks into the nurse’s room.

“Brad, get back to class. Don’t you ever strike someone with your right hand again.” Brad leaves. “Hal. I’m disappointed with you. You jeopardized his career. He could have broken a bone. You’re suspended for a week,” says Dogface Butterman. I like Dogface better than Dustin.

As Dogface is walking out, he says to me, “Your parents will hear about this. I’m making them come in to see me about this.”

With a tear in my eye, I tell him, “No, you won’t. I can guarantee they will not step foot in this school for you.”

Dogface says, “We’ll see about that, you little punk.”

The nurse says, “Um, Dustin. Both his parents died several years ago.” The volume rises with each word she says to him, “Now get the FUCK out of my office, you God Damn ASSHOLE!”

Everyone in the office and hallway heard her, stopped, were silent, and watched the two adults stare at each other.

He walked out with Brad. I give our nurse a stern look. She has a defeated look on her face.

“He walks out a free man, led by our principal. I go home suspended for a week. Justice has been served,” I lean back to let the ice work.


I am first home which is normal. My eye is much better, but I get an ice pack from the freezer. I “harm myself” enough that we keep several in the freezer. I grab a paper towel, wrap the ice pack, and head to my room, where I will stay all night. No guitar, no homework, no TV. I want to be silent and forgotten.

At dinner time, I am summoned for dinner. I will stay in my room. They yell up again. I remain in my room.

Andrea is at the base of the stairs as she screams up at me, “You have two minutes to get your ass down here.”

They will freak out when they see me and hear that I was suspended. They will assume that I started the fight. I must admit, I did.

I got even dumber than usual. I empty my backpack, grab three outfits and socks, put on my hoodie, my backpack, and run down the stairs. However, rather than turning left to the dining room, I go to the front door and run out into the dark.

If I run, they won’t follow. I hear four of them screaming at me to come home. No, thank you. I want none of that. I have my wallet but no money. Tomorrow, I need to find a job at a restaurant, so I can eat. I didn’t run far. I end up cutting through the woods and end up in the park that I love. Nothing is more soothing than feeding bread to the ducks. If you want to enjoy it even more, try feeding them carmel corn. The sugar buzz they get has them literally running across the water to get it first.

They come towards me, but I have no food. Now they’re sad as well. The loneliness and feeling worthless wear me down. I fall over asleep.


I wake up hearing, “I FOUND HIM! OVER HERE!”

I get up, ready to sprint away from my tormentors. I am tackled. I fall on a rock that hurts my arm. I scream out in pain. For my efforts, I am slapped in the face.

Gail yells at me, “What’s the matter with you? Why do you have a black eye? They said you were suspended for fighting?”

I go straight to the ground and cover my head. I have this idea that they’re going to start kicking me soon.

Emma is out of breath as she asks, “What did you do to him?”

Faith asks, “Why is he on the ground balled up?”

Casey asks, “Hal, why are you out here.”

I continue acting like a small child, “Leave me alone!”

Andrea and Becky come jogging up, “What’s the deal with this? What happened?”

Gail says, “He’s got a black eye. Bolu Escort Bayan The answering machine left a message that he was suspended for a week and that we need to call the school.”

Andrea pushes me over, “What the fuck. OH MY GOD! Grab him; we’re going to the hospital.”

I object, “Leave me alone. It’s much better than it was. Just leave me alone and go home!”

Guess how well that worked? Andrea and Becky grab an arm and drag me back to the cars. Between the eight of us, we have three older cars. Two are some old Ford Crown Victoria’s. They’re old but big and still run well. I am between the two thugs, Andrea and Becky. Gail drove, and Faith was in the passenger seat. Casey, Donna, and Emma are in the other Ford.

They question me, but I won’t talk. We make a direct path to the ER. There, Andrea shadows me and answers questions about my health history. She even knows my blood type and what I might be allergic to based on other family members’ allergies. The cute nurse asked some basic questions, but I still won’t explain about my eye because Andrea was there.

I almost chuckle when the nurse walks out, and a young man reaches for the curtain to come in. The last nurse grabbed his arm and held him back. In a soft voice she said, “Let Sara have this one.” He passed me by. I know we waited at least thirty minutes before a portable x-ray machine showed up, and they took some head shots. Another thirty minutes before a gorgeous blonde with sparkling blue eyes and large breasts come in. That first nurse has damn good taste.

The doctor sits in front of me on a small stool, looking up at me.

With a soft angelic voice, she asks me, “What happened to you?”

I didn’t want to say anything; Andrea is right here. Yet, it was like in that Greek book about an adventurer, the women sing, and the men did what they were told, and jumped to their deaths, or something like that. Only the ones that were tied up survived.

So it was with this woman; I had no defense.

I explain about my crappy day. Lost money, lost paper, flunked test, got punched, tormented, and felt lower than dirt. I cry from the sadness, then get knocked from my chair. I swung first, he knocked me out. Nurse further assaults me with her droopy breasts; I get suspended; he’s playing starting quarterback tomorrow.

Now I described how much worse it was, how the ice has helped, and how I got here. I was kidnapped by my sisters.

The police officer behind the curtain came around and asked me if I wanted to press charges against my sisters. I am eighteen, and technically it was against my will. I would never do that to my sisters, no matter how much I hate them.

The doctor saved all of us, “His health was at risk; they’re allowed to help someone mentally incapacitated. With the crappy day he had, they were well within their right. The better question is, what are you going to do? He’s talking about your son. He’s the one that should be under arrest for assaulting this young man. Your son is eighteen as well and he could be tried as an adult.

“With the poor care he received, he could have lost sight in his eye. All that matters to you is that your son has a chance at a scholarship. Having this on his record will keep him out of the large schools.”

The policeman surprises the doctor and me by saying, “That might be a good thing. I thought I raised a fine young man. It appears I was wrong. You have video tape at school, witnesses, and physical evidence. He could spend some time in a cell. Not much, if any, as he’s never been in trouble with the law. They go soft on your first time.

“The wife and I broke up years ago due to my job. I barely know him anymore. He blames me for everything. If you press charges, I won’t defend him. Here’s my card. Anyone at the station can take your statement. Good luck, Hal.”

Andrea strikes while the nice doctor is still here, “Why didn’t you tell me what happened?”

I laugh at her before answering, “You know nothing of me. You yell at me to wake up, take out the garbage, and clean my room. How are my grades? What was my last girlfriend’s name?” I take a few deep breaths then fix her with an icy stare, “Name a friend of mine. Just one. Where do I go Friday nights? This doctor knows more about me than you do.”

She can’t respond to anything, so the doctor continues, “Your x-rays came back clean. I was worried about a broken or cracked eye socket. If you see blood, come back immediately. You’re icing to keep down the swelling; that’s good. Starting tomorrow, alternate with heat. Do you need pain pills?”

Andrea says, “I don’t want him getting hooked; he can do without.”

I don’t even look up.

The doctor says to my sister, “He just had blunt force trauma. It closed his eye. That had to hurt like hell. I bet it hurts right now. I want him to get a good night’s sleep. You will get him the pills and give them to him. I’m only prescribing six. A young man his age is easily influenced.” She looks straight at me. “If you Escort Bolu don’t need all of them, great. Your sister is correct; you should only take what you need. In your mental state, I don’t want you using it to escape your life. I want you to sleep well tonight. Will you do that for me?”

I give her a small smile, “I hear what you’re saying, and it makes sense. I can’t add more trouble to my life, and drugs mask the problem. They’re not the answer.”

She says with an incredible smile on her face, “I don’t want you coming back here unless it’s necessary. I’m on vacation for a week, so you get mister crabby pants next time. Here is your prescription. The nurse will be back with your discharge instructions and paperwork. Be good.”

I then see stars and streamers as she gives me a quick peck on the lips, giggles, and runs off. I am in love.

Andrea comes to me and hugs me. I can’t think of the last time that happened. I cry because of my day and how unfair everything is.

As I sniffle, I tell Andrea, “Thank you for being here.”

We walk through the ER after I have finished with the nurse and get my discharge instructions. It takes forty-five minutes to leave the hospital.

Once back in the lobby, none of my sisters look happy with me. They’re all grumpy from waiting so long. I’m guessing that Andrea shot them a look to kill, they back off. I feel like crap and am ready to cry again.

Once outside, Andrea hands Gail the prescription, “Use the 24/7 pharmacy on Main. I’m taking him home. He will take his pain pills, go to bed, and we have a lot to talk about. I’ll see you at home. Drive safe; I love you.”

She never says, “I love you to her sisters,” life will get weird.

The drive home is silent. That’s as good as I could have asked for. I go up the stairs and take a long hot shower at home. I took a full ten minutes without being yelled at or assaulted. It was weird but awesome. I am exhausted from the stressful day. I dread seeing my sisters again. They’re going to be pissed at me for getting suspended and then spending the money for a trip to the ER. Now they must get me a prescription. That can’t be cheap.

I strip to my underwear and get in bed. I know they’re coming back, so I leave the light on. I lay on my side, facing away from the door. Now I won’t have to see the hate in their eyes.

Thirty minutes later, the pills show up, and I take two per the directions. Donna has a glass of water for me. She makes sure I only take two. Satisfied, she leaves without saying a word and turns off the light for me before closing the door. I think that’s about the nicest thing she’s ever done for me.

Chapter 3 — A late-night talk

Andrea’s point of view:

Now that everyone is home, we sit down at our places around the dining room table. Everyone is silent.

I start my speech using a soft voice, so I don’t wake up Hal. I explain about his physical condition. How bad it could have been, what they suspected, and where we ended up. I explained about the pills and the lesson I learned about compassion from the gorgeous doctor. I explained that she was probably the only person he would have talked to in the hospital. He was captivated by her beauty.

I almost giggle as I recount that I was amazed that he could talk to her. Usually, he can’t speak around beautiful women, hell around any women other than us sisters. Then I heard him explain about his life at school.

I used a bit from his life when I asked, “Does anyone know how he does in school? His grades?” Crickets. “Can any of you name his last girlfriend’s name? Can anyone tell me what he does on Friday nights?”

I add a few more, “What’s his favorite meal?” Still nothing. “What’s his best friend’s name? It was embarrassing. I couldn’t answer any of his questions. He now has to decide if he ruins the kid’s athletic future by pressing charges against him for assault and battery.”

Becky shocks us with her intensity, “He broke the law; he should be in jail.”

Faith is quick to add, “Wow, that a way to show some compassion. Don’t look at the whole picture; just throw him in jail. Yup, let’s not even have a trial. Lethal injection good enough for you?”

Becky shoots back, “Hey! He was wrong. He knew he was wrong and thought he could get away with it. HE WILL unless Hal presses charges.”

Emma adds, “Oh sure, that won’t hurt him at school. A long trial, star quarterback, misses the season, doesn’t get a scholarship, his life is ruined, and now Hal must live with that on his head.”

Becky is cold, “Next time that kid kills someone. Can we put him in jail then, your highness?”

Emma won’t back down, “From what Andrea said, the entire school hates him. Does he really need that added on top of why people hate him?”

Donna asks, “Why do people hate him?”

Absolute silence.

Faith adds, “We don’t know shit. We don’t know our brother. We don’t know his friends. We don’t know what happens at school. From the way he’s acting, I think he sees us as part of the problem.”

Casey speaks up, “That’s bull shit. We all love him.”

With an even softer voice, I ask, “How is it that you show him that you love him? Did he get even five minutes in the shower this morning? When did he last get a new shirt or pair of pants?”

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