A story I just started tonight

So I've always been interested in writing, I just rarely have the organization and persistence to stick with it. Anyway, kind of got the calling tonight and started writing. Some feedback would be fantastic! Hopefully it will paste in a manner that is readable. This is only the first chapter and probably a good stopping place for the night. Also, for fair warning its probably teeming with typos and general errors as I have not edited it at all yet. Just looking for general feedback of if you like it or don't like it.

Jarrod

Sean’s car inched slowly to a halt. No matter how slowly the car drove, it seemed all too fast to Jarrod. They both sat in silence for a moment. Jarrod slowly lifted his hand to reach for the door handle. As it popped the lights turned on seeming to make the situation all the more real. His pause was only momentary, but the awkward silence that hung in the air seemed to elongate it. “Smoke a cigarette with me?” He asked.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” came the only reply, and in unison they both stepped out of the car.
Sean’s hands reached into his jean’s pockets, fumbling sloppily for the pack of Camel menthol cigarettes inside them. When he pulled the pack out, it looked slightly crushed from the pressure inside of it. The few remaining cigarettes within were slightly bent, but they were otherwise unharmed. Sean removed one of them and handed it to him.
Jarrod held the cigarette while he waiting for Sean to pull out his lighter. He had one on him too, he just liked the feeling of holding a cigarette. He had started smoking a couple years ago, and there was something exhilarating about feeling a fresh cigarette between his index and middle finger. It was something one could simply not explain to someone who had never smoked. Even though he felt deep down it was not something to be proud of, it was also a thing he very much liked.
Sean finally released the lighter from the clutches of his pocket. He ineffectively struck it a few times before it lit. As he held the flame up to his lips to light his cigarette, the flame reflected off his lips.
“You can still see some of the gloss on your lips.” Jarrod stated without much emotion.
“Oh? Does it bother you?” Sean asked in the same fashion.
“No, it actually kind of cute.” He hesitated a moment. “I mean, I think so at least.” He corrected.
“Well, that’s all that matters.” Sean said like it was the most simple thing in the world.
“I guess…” Jarrod said unsure of it. He took the lighter from Sean’s hand turning slightly away as he did. He relit it one motion with obvious ease. The end of the cigarette quickly turned red as it was exposed to the flame. He tried the lighter back, still turned away from him both physically and emotionally.
Sean pulled the cigarette awkwardly out of his mouth and gave him a look. “Why do you say that.”
“Say what?” He said acting ignorant of what he meant.
“You guess, like it isn’t true.”
“Well how am I supposed to know if it is?” He asked grabbing the cigarette from his mouth and quickly lowering it to waist level. He gave it a flick to remove the ash, but instead of it falling down it seemed to float back up in a light, yet surprising gust of wind from down the street.
Sean continued staring at him, as if somehow that alone could convince him. His look was certainly strong and it felt reassuring. Jarrod just didn’t know if he wanted to be reassured. “This is how Sean said all at once.” All of a sudden he was upon him. Pulling their waists together. He stared into his lover’s eyes, but Jarrod tried to look away. That is until Sean’s gentle hand cupped the bottom of his face. “I love you.” Sean said, and then he leaned in even closer.
Jarrod was not resisting any longer. No longer was he concerned with trying to protect himself from being harmed. He did not want to distance himself from this person he had such devout feelings for. He kissed him back. Gently at first. Feeling their lips brush very lightly against the others. As the kiss went on, their lips interlocked, moving and twisting. For a moment Sean felt his boy friend’s tongue make contact with his own, but it was all too brief, as was their time together.
Sean moved his head back away, still pressing his body close. Then he gave him a kiss on the side of his lips, and back away altogether. “ I guess I should get going. There may only be a month left of school, but we haven’t graduated yet.” He started making a slow pace back to the driver’s seat.
“So you just kiss me outside of my parent’s home and run back home?” Sean asked bitterly, already hurting for letting himself be raised up to happiness for only a moment. It was better to feel nothing at all, then to be happy and be returned to nothingness.
“You’re lucky to have parents that don’t care you are gay. We can’t all be so fortunate you know.” Sean said still inching slowly to the car, like he was trying to hin the was in a hurry. Then he looked down at the cigarette still in his hand, as if he had completely forgotten it was there. It had gone out entirely, and he had to fumble for the lighter once more.
He was on his third attempt trying to relight it when Jarrod took it out of his hands. He ran his thumb across it and once again lit it on his first attempt. He held it up to Sean’s burnt out cigarette and relit it for him. Jarrod’s own cigarette had fallen to the ground in the excitement, but he found it without too much trouble.
“You can just have another one.” Sean said already reaching into his pocket.
“This one’s fine.” Jarrod said as he relit his own now. Even though he had smoked since he was sixteen, Sean had only just started since he met him. Part of him knew he had just started smoking as a way to bond with him. Well, that and that he bought them for Jarrod since he rarely had the money to spend on them. It made him feel guilty for a certain extent, but he tried not to think of it. “And you don’t know what you’re talking about. Someone should hope for parents who are accepting of them being gay. Not one’s that don’t care altogether. Mine cared so little it makes you question whether they care anything about me at all.”
“Well I’m sure that’s not true.” Sean said as he held the cigarette up to the street light. He looked as if he was examining the butt of it, but for what he couldn’t be sure. “Even still, its better then them hating you for it.”
“Come on now. Your parents don’t hate you and you know it.” Jarrod said feeling irritated by the ignorance of the conversation.
“Well,” Sean started, “Okay, maybe not hate. But want to change you. it’s a very uncomfortable feeling, and something hard to explain.”
“Everyone has something that they don’t like about their kids. Or anyone in their lives really.”
“Well what don’t you like about me then?” Sean asked with a smirk on his face.
Jarrod paused to stare at him, then returned the smile. “Well almost everybody in their lives.” He said as he leaned in close for another quick peck. As he backed away he ran his face across his boy friend’s face. “Though you could shave more often.”
“Noted.” Sean said as his smile widened. “I’ll see you in math class tomorrow?”
“Of course. We’ll hold hands through the whole thing.” Jarrod said sarcastically.
Sean’s smile faded. “That’s a mean thing to say.”
“Why’s that. You don’t want to.” Jarrod said turning away again.
“You know I do!” Sean was clearly starting to get upset by the conversation.
“Well.” Jarrod started walking towards the house. “Maybe it will happen some day then.” He didn’t turn back around. He just dropped the cigarette in front of him on the walkway to his small one story house, and walked over it on his path to the front door. He didn’t turn around to watch Sean get back in his car. Part of him wanted to, but something kept him from looking back.
As he walked inside he saw his father. He was passed out in a recliner with the TV on and a bottle of Jim Beam sitting next to him on the night stand. His father had left him and his mother alone when he was eight. He had beat Jarrod repeatedly before that time. At this point of his life he could only wonder if he had hit his mother as well. When he left it had seemed like a gift from God.
Jarrod found himself approaching the night stand. It never seemed to be a conscious thought. It was something that just happened. He lifted the bottle. His dad hadn’t even bothered to screw the lid back on it. He simply held it for a few moments, feeling the weight. The he started lifting it up towards his lips.
Jarrod used to be passionately against the use of alcohol. At first, every time he was around it, it reminded him of the smell of the beating when he was a child. But the longer he drank the more that association faded. He was older now, he was nearly as big as his dad, and he could fight back if he had to. At first he had still been very careful. They say alcoholism is genetic, and he refused to end up like his father. Still, the more time that passed the less he seemed to care.
As the bottle made contact with his lips, his father’s eyes opened. They stared up at him, watched as the liquer poured down his son’s throat, and then closed again. He seemed not to care, and that’s probably because he didn’t. He didn’t seem to care about many things, least of those things his son.
Jack Tyler had left when Jarrod was a boy. By the time he returned he was twelve, nearly a teenager. He didn’t know much about what his father did in that time, but he knew he had promised things would be different if he came home. He had cried to be let back in to see his wife and son. He said the beatings would stop, and the drinking. Yet here he sat six years later passed out in the same chair he had done so often only six short years later.
As for the beatings, Jarrod could only say he had not received any himself, and he had not seen his mother hit more than once or twice lightly in heated arguments. It made him feel guilty to say this, but he didn’t feel pity for her. She got what she deserved for letting the beast back into her home.
He lowered the bottle gently back where it was on the night stand and made for the stairs. As he walked past his mother’s room he heard crying, but he did not care enough to investigate. Likely he would only find a black eye sobbing into weary hands. That was not something he cared to end a night such as this with.
When his dad left Jarrod started going by his mother’s maiden name, Hausen. When Jack returned, he seemed offended and wanted him to go by Jarrod Tyler again. Jack didn’t feel comfortable with that though, and luckily his mom had stepped in and said that that would look odd to the other school children. Jack was still trying to keep his mom happy and wouldn’t risk arguing with her back then.
Jarrod stripped down to just his boxers and lied on top of the covers. He tried to think of the positive. Of the night he had had with Sean, of helping to prepare for the show, and the realization that he had just been told “I love you,” for the first time by someone he was in a relationship with.
It was hard to focus on those things in a place of such extreme negativity though, and suddenly he found himself longing for another cigarette.

 

Thanks for the feedback, it is seriously awesome. Sadly, I haven't worked on this like at all since I first put it up a couple months ago, but now that I know its actually decent I'm feeling motivated to get back on it =P

 

Lol I've always loved the name Sean ever since I started watching boy meets world as a kid. I think I just liked how it looked nothing like it was pronounced.

Plus Sean Bean in Game of Thrones just makes it even more awesome. Though I usually pronounce his first name like Seen so it rhymes with Bean.

Seen Bean

 

Okay, just finished chapter 2 and I'll post it here! Also, is there any way I can edit the OP any more? I corrected a lot of errors and stuff but it won't let me edit it anymore.

Anyway, here's chapter 2!!!



Sharron

The oven clock read 12:30. Once upon time Sharron Michaels would have been in bed now, preparing her mind and body for the next day’s work. She didn’t work anymore though. How could anyone be expected to keep up with their job when they had lost a son? She had worked at the hospital as a nurse for twelve years, and now she had nothing to show for it. She felt sorry for her two daughters. They had known nothing but a life of comfort, and the future may not be as comfortable anymore. Dave still had his job at the factory, but that didn’t pay much for a family of five.

She saw headlights approaching from out the front window. Suddenly they stopped and switched off. Her son was home. Normally she would have scolded him for being out so late with school the next day, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Why should I care what he does now?

The doorknob jiggled once as he tried to simply twist it and found it locked. She could hear faint rattling as he tried to dig out his house key, but she did not wait for him. She walked to the front door and opened it herself.

“Oh, hi mom. You’re up late.” Sean said as he turned sideways to squeeze past her.

“I could say the same thing about you.” She told him. She felt for the cross she wore around her neck at all times. Life had seemed so simple once, she had had a job, and she thought she knew her son. Those times were gone now, and she could do little but to long to have them back. “Where were you?”

“Just over at Mike’s.” He told her as he began to casually walk through the house as if she did not exist.

“What did you two do over there?” She asked suspiciously. She didn’t think Mike was gay, but she did think he could have been somewhere else. He could have been with the boy that stole my son away into this... world of perversion. She drew her attention to the black duffel bag her son carried. “And what's in there?”

“Just playing some video games, Mom, and its just games and stuff.” He reached in and pulled out an Xbox 360 controller to show her.

“I believe you,” she lied. “You didn't have to prove anything.” She said as she watched her son walk up the stairs. She thought she noticed a slight swish of his hips as he walked up. She wondered if she was just imagining it or if that was how he had always walked.

She walked back to the couch and sat down. She reached for the remote and flipped the TV on. Fox News turned on, and there was a political debate on TV. She sat and relaxed, trying to take her mind off of everything. At least she could still forget everything if she tried hard enough.

Suddenly Sharron noticed she was hungry. She had been eating noticeably less since she found out about Sean's secret, since I lost my first born child, she thought for a moment and pushed it away. This wasn't the time to dwell. I'd rather live in ignorance forever.

She found herself walking into the kitchen, digging through the pantry. She turned over item after item, lifting and searching. Eventually in the back she found a single bag of microwavable popcorn. She lifted it up and read the label, “Extra buttery” it read. Perfect.

She removed the plastic wrap and left it on the counter, I'll get it tomorrow she thought to herself knowing full well she was leaving it to her husband to clean up. She placed the bag of kernels in the microwave with the flaps up and pushed the door shut. She hit the “pop” button and found herself walking back to the couch, but she didn't make it.

“That's a lie, I don't hate homosexuals, I have nothing but love in my heart for the homosexuals.” It was Mark Fischer. At one point in time she had been a huge fan of him, now she didn't like to think of politics as much as she used to. It reminded her of things she didn't want to think about. I raised one of the sinning homosexuals they are talking about. “But the bible is clear, the homosexual lifestyle is one of wicked debauchery that cannot be tolerated by true Christians.”

Sharron reached down and pulled the cross from around her neck. She held it in the palm of her hand. The microwave buzzed its soft hymn as she felt the wooden crucifix in her hand. Once its feel had been so reassuring. Once it hadn't confused her more. Once everything was clear, but now the world was such a confusing, terrible place to live in.

“This is what I am talking about. We let them live in our country as full citizens and...”

Pop! The first kernel popping in the microwave caused Sharron to jump. Putting that popcorn in had seem like a different world, a normal life. My normal life is over.

“this gay agenda clamors for marriage equality. Well let me tell you something, people!”

Pop! She jumped again. She had tears in her eyes now.

“We have marriage equality already. These homosexuals... They have just as many rights as as you and me. We as a nation have extended our hand out and given them a chance for redemption. A chance to deny their perversions and have a true marriage, to a person of the opposite sex in the light of God!” She quickly scrambled for the remote and turned the television off.

POP! POP! POP! Each sound was like a reaffirming reminder of the normalcy she would never attain. Each pop a voice in her head, POP! NORMAL POP! IS POP! OVER!

She was on her knees now, her head buried into her palms. She lowered her face into the carpet, She wanted to scream but resisted. I can't let him see how much he's hurt me. She wasn't sure why that mattered so much.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!!! The whir of the microwave came to an end as the last few pop finished out and she was left in silence. She sat there for a few moments, just letting the hopelessness wash over her. Her whole future had been turned upside down. All the things she knew about life were gone.

For a few minutes she just sat there helpless letting the tears continue to fall and gently wet the carpet. Eventually she felt strong enough to stand, I can at least do that much. She wiped the tears away and walked towards the kitchen. She opened the microwave, pulled out the bag of popcorn, and threw it in the trash. A voice hummed in her head, my normal life is over... like the last repeat of an echo.

Ready for bed she began to walk up the stairs. Each step felt like a burden. Why do I even bother going on? She wondered, but she knew why. She had two lovely daughters, they had no part of any of this, but she knew they would become a part. Her classmates would mock them, make fun of THEM for all this, when they did nothing wrong.

As she walked down the hall she stopped outside of Sean's door. She lightly placed her hand on it. I still love you, she thought, but I can't forgive you.

Once in her room she got into bed. She did not bother to undress. She just got under the sheets and the tears started again. She wanted to scream, to cry out, and beg God for answers. Instead she whimpered silently, wishing her husband was there to wrap his arms around her. She felt alone. She just wanted things to go back to how they used to be. This isn't how things were supposed to happen. Yet deep down she knew her normal life was over.

edit: ugh... its tabbed in here... why does it show up without any tabs... I'll space out the paragraphs if I can soon

edit 2: UGHHH italics didn't trasfer over right either... Hopefully I managed to get them all.

 

Thank you for the words of advice, but if it weren't for the feed back here I wouldn't have gotten through the second chapter. I just can't motivate myself to continue unless I know SOMEBODY out there is reading it. Besides, its not exactly like what I've posted is anywhere near to a finished product.

Do you really think its good enough to publish though? I mean that's kind of a dream of mine to get a book published, but its just so hard to look at your own writing and not be biased.

 

Out of curiosity, how does one go about petitioning their work for publication? I recall in a Creative Writing class I took in high school we were told that rather then write the entire novel and dedicate tons of hours into writing something no one will be interested in publishing, you are supposed to just write a small opening to show the publishers its good enough to grab a reader's attention along with a brief summary of how the story will go down.

Can anyone confirm or deny this or know a site or anything I could try sending this too if that is the case? Also, don't just tell me its good enough to get published for the sake of me feeling good. Its kind of a dream of mine to have my own published book, and idk I feel like i am unrealistically getting my hopes up that this is actually good...