07-09-2013, 04:33 PM
Its time again to tell a Tale:
Bowyan, this be told especially for you, but, perhaps there might be other’s who'll take away.
In 40 odd years, this chapter’s never been told. Again, a true story, told now without malice or hate. The rage has long subsided.
Perhaps I've kept it, a mite too short…. You be the judge.. But bear with me, it’s a long time back…
Round about '65 a young boy’s older brother asked “Please help with my Latin translate” Not a chance, I’m going to play with my tent” ( A cotton play-play one, bright yellow & red)
Some time later, that youngster bounded up the stairs to their bedroom, and as he pushed the door open, to his horror, his brother’s body came swinging round from behind the cupboard door hanging from a crepe bandage round his neck.
It was as if time stood still… Head bent far back, tong out, eyes open…..
In panic laced with fear he ran down the stairs screaming for his mother…. To no avail, mouth to mouth they both tried....He was gone. Neck broken, an accidental death.. The silly, silly boy..
The funeral….. Came and went, The church, speeches, back to silent house….
Never went back to the room, moved into the spare…. For far too long bore the burden of the unspoken thought “If only I had said yes”….
ROLL ON A YEAR
“Mom”? He called as he got home after school…. No answer… Looked in the laundry… Not there…. Back up to the kitchen door…. “Mom where are you”?… the house silent… Suddenly ominous…
Shaking off the prickling neck he went upstairs to drink some water… First door to the left then head down to the tap. As he turned his head sideways to take a drink His Mother’s bulging eyes where staring at him…
Suspended from the shower curtain rail, almost to the day of her eldest son’s death, no longer able to take the loss, she had hung herself in grief, You see, she believed she had caused his death...
Blue rings around the neck…Oh! There’s my organ’s electric chord, round the neck… One leg bent back, the other off the front of shower floor ledge…
Then screaming, he once again fled that silent house… Across the road to the corner house… Please, please come quick.. My Mother’s dead….
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
ROLL ON ABOUT ANOTHER YEAR
His best friend’s mother had since moved in…. Then quickly married the family grown by three, soon 4
Alienated, derided, and continually unfairly punished, once kicked around the floor, soon off to boarding school he went… No new clothes for him “nothing wrong with what Gregory left”….
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
THE AGGRESSION STARTS
Soon the teacher’s became aware that there were problems, when empty letters home where wrote. He was quickly moved from the hostel to where only 15 stayed.
There, there was a “moffie” boy, who curried favor and charred for matron. He overheard them discuss, then spread the tale.. I was responsible for my brother’s death..
I caught up with him after a day or two, behind the hall…. Voices raised, a fight ensured.. I grabbed behind the head and smashed his face into the brick buttress once, twice, three times.. Grinding left and right on the bricks, his face a fucked up bloodied mess… This is weird, I am not me... It was as if I was outside me, watching, emotionless, a slow-motion picture....
Screaming brought people round.. Four prefects to drag me off I was told…
A week perhaps? Principal’s office the three of us, the boy smug 'an safe behind the protection of the desk…
A question asked, he opened his yap.. I jumped from the floor onto the desk and dove across the space straight for him…
The Principal caught me mid-flight… I never saw that boy again.. The aggression’s first lesson learnt… Sad to say, applied a few times more…
ROLL ON THREE ODD YEARS
15, in Standard 8 “We are not going to carry on paying for you after you finish with 8”….
I’d seen it coming from STD 5 My dreams of a vet lay in shreds… A trade I needed.. Just in case, so off to trade school for 6, 7, and 8
TV coming, perhaps I can make a go of that, so electronics it was… And a Transformer I made. (This is very significant for perhaps a later story to be told)
At end of 8, barely 16, and a bio-scope usher’s wage..
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
The rest is really not important here… Some already told in a “mutts tale”….
So why the tale?
ROLL ON 20 YEAR OR SO
The Lad’s leaving the home…. Chris, my foster son, just on 14 is finally free from the welfare yoke…
And now, my point?
I never would have had the understanding, the credibility, the experience, call it what you like for him to anchor and be a success had I not had the shit I’d had.
It seems that for some of us, life’s crap is to there to show us how to help other’s along.
Bowyn, since I joined, I've read you post’s, pretty much every one. Caring, empathetic and balanced they be. That why I mailed you... Why you...
Ask yourself then.. Without the shit how would you help… Including me…
For me it’s been crystal clear a long time now THAT’S the reason why…
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
You have a calling, Sir, I would be proud to call you, friend
Bowyan, this be told especially for you, but, perhaps there might be other’s who'll take away.
In 40 odd years, this chapter’s never been told. Again, a true story, told now without malice or hate. The rage has long subsided.
Perhaps I've kept it, a mite too short…. You be the judge.. But bear with me, it’s a long time back…
Round about '65 a young boy’s older brother asked “Please help with my Latin translate” Not a chance, I’m going to play with my tent” ( A cotton play-play one, bright yellow & red)
Some time later, that youngster bounded up the stairs to their bedroom, and as he pushed the door open, to his horror, his brother’s body came swinging round from behind the cupboard door hanging from a crepe bandage round his neck.
It was as if time stood still… Head bent far back, tong out, eyes open…..
In panic laced with fear he ran down the stairs screaming for his mother…. To no avail, mouth to mouth they both tried....He was gone. Neck broken, an accidental death.. The silly, silly boy..
The funeral….. Came and went, The church, speeches, back to silent house….
Never went back to the room, moved into the spare…. For far too long bore the burden of the unspoken thought “If only I had said yes”….
ROLL ON A YEAR
“Mom”? He called as he got home after school…. No answer… Looked in the laundry… Not there…. Back up to the kitchen door…. “Mom where are you”?… the house silent… Suddenly ominous…
Shaking off the prickling neck he went upstairs to drink some water… First door to the left then head down to the tap. As he turned his head sideways to take a drink His Mother’s bulging eyes where staring at him…
Suspended from the shower curtain rail, almost to the day of her eldest son’s death, no longer able to take the loss, she had hung herself in grief, You see, she believed she had caused his death...
Blue rings around the neck…Oh! There’s my organ’s electric chord, round the neck… One leg bent back, the other off the front of shower floor ledge…
Then screaming, he once again fled that silent house… Across the road to the corner house… Please, please come quick.. My Mother’s dead….
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
ROLL ON ABOUT ANOTHER YEAR
His best friend’s mother had since moved in…. Then quickly married the family grown by three, soon 4
Alienated, derided, and continually unfairly punished, once kicked around the floor, soon off to boarding school he went… No new clothes for him “nothing wrong with what Gregory left”….
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
THE AGGRESSION STARTS
Soon the teacher’s became aware that there were problems, when empty letters home where wrote. He was quickly moved from the hostel to where only 15 stayed.
There, there was a “moffie” boy, who curried favor and charred for matron. He overheard them discuss, then spread the tale.. I was responsible for my brother’s death..
I caught up with him after a day or two, behind the hall…. Voices raised, a fight ensured.. I grabbed behind the head and smashed his face into the brick buttress once, twice, three times.. Grinding left and right on the bricks, his face a fucked up bloodied mess… This is weird, I am not me... It was as if I was outside me, watching, emotionless, a slow-motion picture....
Screaming brought people round.. Four prefects to drag me off I was told…
A week perhaps? Principal’s office the three of us, the boy smug 'an safe behind the protection of the desk…
A question asked, he opened his yap.. I jumped from the floor onto the desk and dove across the space straight for him…
The Principal caught me mid-flight… I never saw that boy again.. The aggression’s first lesson learnt… Sad to say, applied a few times more…
ROLL ON THREE ODD YEARS
15, in Standard 8 “We are not going to carry on paying for you after you finish with 8”….
I’d seen it coming from STD 5 My dreams of a vet lay in shreds… A trade I needed.. Just in case, so off to trade school for 6, 7, and 8
TV coming, perhaps I can make a go of that, so electronics it was… And a Transformer I made. (This is very significant for perhaps a later story to be told)
At end of 8, barely 16, and a bio-scope usher’s wage..
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
The rest is really not important here… Some already told in a “mutts tale”….
So why the tale?
ROLL ON 20 YEAR OR SO
The Lad’s leaving the home…. Chris, my foster son, just on 14 is finally free from the welfare yoke…
And now, my point?
I never would have had the understanding, the credibility, the experience, call it what you like for him to anchor and be a success had I not had the shit I’d had.
It seems that for some of us, life’s crap is to there to show us how to help other’s along.
Bowyn, since I joined, I've read you post’s, pretty much every one. Caring, empathetic and balanced they be. That why I mailed you... Why you...
Ask yourself then.. Without the shit how would you help… Including me…
For me it’s been crystal clear a long time now THAT’S the reason why…
Why all this shit? Why, Why? Why me?
You have a calling, Sir, I would be proud to call you, friend
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
to you, friend.
Overall I think he's a wonderful guy with a good heart though!
