Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2009 17:49:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: Demitiri Symone <demitirik@yahoo.com>
Subject: Never Looking Back

Copyright- My name is Demitiri and I am a 18 year old Russian male and
this is another time for me writing these types of stories. Please enjoy
because I'd like to continue writing stories. Thoughts, comments,
suggestions, or would you just want to talk? Please be gentle.
Email- demitiriK@yahoo.com. I don't bite =]
Notes- I hope you enjoy this chapter of the story. And send feedback
please. It makes me feel better about my stores =]


  I awoke early in the morning to pouring rain and boisterous thunder. I
stayed in bed holding myself, and silently weeping, while in the fetal
position. I can distinctly remember father taking the extension cord to
numerous places on my body including my face, chest, and back. My once
majestic body was now covered with horrific scars and stains from blood
that wouldn't wash away. I wasn't always a child of parental abuse though,
father use to love and cherish me up until the point in which mother died.
  Mother was more than likely the greatest woman on earth, well she was in
the eyes of me and father. She had the body of a young Kate Moss but was
thicker at the hips, breasts, and butt. Mother had long, flowing, crimson
red hair that complemented her brown freckles, which looked to have been
strategically placed by god, on her creamy white face. Mother had full and
pouty red lips which sat nestled under her slender nose between her
enticing dark brown eyes of mystery. Most of the aforementioned features I
got right from mother. Not only was she beautiful on the outside she was
beautiful on the inside. Mother was a kind hearted, caring, and spiritual
woman. She would do anything to keep father and I happy and no matter what
condition she happened to be in it would never hinder her love and
dedication to us. Mother was truly the best woman to have ever graced this
planet. Oh how I dearly miss Rosalinda Perez.
  Then we have father. He was an athletic man with the body of a Greek
god. Not one roll of fat or gray hair spoiled his magnificent body which
looked to be chiseled out of a luscious high brown rock.  His long legs
were muscled to the core, his abs were solid and flat, his arms were not to
big but he definetly had muscles in them as well.  Unlike mother and I
father had short, jet black curly hair that flowed to the bottom of his
neck similar to that of a young Mario Lopez. And I swear to this day father
is a spitting image of said actor. From the dimple, to the eyes, lips, and
nose. If father and Mario were to stand next to each other nobody would be
able to tell the difference. Father was a strong and stubborn individual
though. He worked his self near death to give me and mother anything our
hearts desired and inserted a strong belief in high self esteem and respect
for others deep into my brain. I cry out for the days in which Antonio
Perez would come back to me. That was the father who I loved dearly.
  And lastly there's me. Ronaldo Perez. I had long crimson red hair down
below my neck, brown freckles, creamy white skin, the cutest button nose
and light hazel eyes. Unfortunately I didn't have my fathers dimples or
muscles. My body was entirely flat. Although I barely had any fat I
definetly didn't have any muscle to be proud of either. Couldn't lift a
twenty pound weight if my life depended on it.  Oh well. My good looks went
well with my soft and gentle personality.  All my life I had been a quiet
and scared person. It's just that I've been terribly afraid of people for
reasons unbeknownst to me and whenever in social situations I kept to
myself unless someone came to me.
  As I lay in my big soft bed I hear father downstairs cursing up a
storm. Whenever something went wrong I was always blamed even if it wasn't
my fault whatsoever. Running my fingers through my hair and hoping he
wouldn't come into my room I drifted off into deep thoughts about mother's
death. She passed away five months ago from a horrible car crash. The day
it happened mother was rushing to my school to pick me up because I was
stuck in the rain. Before leaving the house she told me I would need that
umbrella but I simply brushed her off because the weatherman had said
otherwise. Mother had come down with a cold that day but out of a deep love
I'll never comprehend she crawled out of bed tired as ever and drove to
come get me.
  But there was a powerful rush of rain comming down so her vision of the
streets was severly hindered. Mother was driving rather quickly and out of
nowhere a big truck swerved into her view and because of instincts she
turned the steering wheel with intensity and drove off of the bridge. Her
body wasn't recovered and father was never the same. When I got home that
day he bombarded me with violence and hurtful words.  "You're not my son
you're a monster!"  "Its all your fault!"  "Die you bastard I hate you!"
"How dare you take her away from!"  "How dare you!"
  And all I could was mumble "I'm sorry father." Yet my apologies meant
nothing to him. I took away his only love, they were high school
sweethearts and had been married for 19 years. And yes I'm only 17 so no
I'm not a child who forced his parents to marry. Everyday since the death
father has reminded me of the pain I caused as though he wishes it had been
me who died instead. Now the love that father once had for me has changed
into hatred and disgust. In all honestly I think he no longer cares for
me. My thoughts are interrupted by the rumbling of my stomach. I haven't
left my room in two days and nobody I know seems to care.
  As I walk down the carpeted stairs and head for the kitchen I see father
sitting on the couch staring at me with eyes of Satan. He hates his only
child and that will never change. I never say anything though, just put my
head down in shame. As I pour the milk into my big bowl of cereal father
walks into the kitchen and sits across from me just looking. I can feel him
staring but I have to much fear to look up at him so I keep my eyes fixed
on the bowl of cereal. During the entire ten minutes it took me to eat my
cereal I cried. And what did he do? Nothing but continue his dark stare. I
toss the bowl into the sink and before I walk out he whips his belts across
my back.
  At this point in time I am accustomed to the hits but they still sting
because of untreated wounds I have. This one hit took me by surprise
because he hasn't hit me in a week, so I clutched the wall trying not to
fall to my knees. As I stood kneeled over and I heard him walking over
dragging his belt against the white tiles of the kitchen floor. Whip! Whip!
Whip! Three more hits to my back and then he pushes me away. I was far to
weak to run but I knew if I stayed there he would hit me again so I slowly
limped back to my room.
  I crawled back into bed and slept for the rest of the day.  Unfortunately
when I woke up I had school in the morning and had to go. I already missed
15 days ago and if I get five more I can goodbye to education. High school
is nothing but horrible people grouped into one building but I'm a senior
and damn close to leaving. When I woke in the morning I couldn't take a
shower as usual. If the hot water was to run down my body I don't know how
I would be able to take the pain.  Simply too overbearing. So now I dip a
wash cloth in hot water and soap then slowly rub all over my body including
my scarred areas. As much as it burns when I wash I just have to live with
with it.
  I threw on sweats, flip flops, with a plain white v neck and walk to
school. The cool breeze felt marvelous in this somewhat hot weather. It's
been so long since I've been outside and enjoyed being there. Dang. I came
to school late and for some reason people were being even more weird today
than usual. I saw people pointing at me and whispering. People giving me
puzzled and concerned looks. Why? Was there something on me I didn't know
about? I gave them no attention and sat in the back next to Paul.
  Paul had been my hidden crush since freshmen year and I always got
nervous around him. Paul was a beautiful specimen with intricate black
braided hair and many soft baby hairs all along his forhead. His bright
blue eyes sat openly between a slender nose over thin red lips.  His pale
white skin was gently decorated with hard muscles everywhere the eye could
see. Rock hard abs, chisled legs and arms, his body was to die for.
  As I sit in my desk and stared out the window I felt somebody run their
fingers over my hand as if they were tracing some sort of pattern. I looked
down to see it was Paul running his fingers over the scars that were on my
hand and arms. Oh fuck! I can't believe I left my house with a short
sleeved shirt. Everybody thought the scars on my hand were from a surgery I
had as kid and nobody had ever seen the scars on my arm or chest which were
clearly visible.  "Ronaldo what happened to you?"
  I just looked at Paul and then looked back out the window. To my surprise
he sounded as though he was genuinely interested in knowing what happened
to me.  "I said what happened to you?" Only this time with a little more
sterness in his voice.  "Its private Paul."  "I don't care what it is. I
want to know why you have all these scars."
  Luckily we were in the back of the class isolated from the other students
so nobody could hear our conversation.  "Ronaldo what happened? You can
tell I'm here for you."  "My um, my father did that."  "Why?!" He asked in
a loud and surprised tone.  "Because my mom died trying to help me and he
ways blames me for it."  "I'm gonna take you home so you can pack your shit
and come live with me."  "Why?"  "Because you shouldn't be with that
monster. You need to be with someone who cares for you."  "Thanks Paul."
  The day went by incredibly slow but the only thing that was on my mind
was what Paul said. Was he really going to let me live with him?  Or was
this some sort of cruel and sick joke? Guess it's just something I would
have to find out on me.
  Instead of walking home Paul drove me as if to protect me from father. He
wasn't home though which made me feel better about abondoning him. I don't
know why I felt bad though. By my leaving I'm sure father felt fine about
it and that made it even hurt more to leave him alone. I packed the clean
clothes I had into a large black bag and passed it to Paul. I wanted to
write a note letting him where I would he bit I'm sure it would me nothing
to him so as quickly as I came in to get my things I left.  "Paul can I
tell you somthing?"  "Sure."  "Do you know I have a crush on you?"  "Yeah I
knew since like sophmore year. I'm surprised you never acted on that
crush?"  "How did you know though?"  "I remembered how you use to look at
me, how you use to bump into me and then smile. I knew you liked me."
"Well if you how come you never did anything?"  "I didn't know how to
approach you. It's something about you that seems so different and unique
from the other boys in school. I like you Ronaldo."
  Wow. Someone actually likes me? I didn't know to respond so I just sat
quietly and stared out the window as dark rain clouds begin to form. We
pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous house in a quiet suburb of upstate
New Hampshire. As I hopped out of Paul's truck I saw his lawn was a vibrant
green color and looked to be perfectly trimmed.  Standing tall under his
windows were beds of roses, tulips, and other colorful flowers. I heard the
loud cracking of thunder in the sky but I didn't move. I didn't want to
move. But the rain came down with a force and it stinged inside my wounds
so I ran into the house.  "Ron."  "Yes?"  "Take off your clothes?"  "Why?"
"I want to see you."
  What was this? Was he seriously planning in fucking me right there?  I
had no idea what was going through his mind and on top of that I was a
virgin. That's right I'm a 17 year old high school senior who is a
virgin. I attempted to take off my shirt but I was to afraid, I didn't want
him to see the long lines of scars that danced around my torso.  He walked
over and just pulled it over my head. Standing there staring at me with his
mouth agape I wanted to run away and cry. I turned my body but all he did
was grab me to hold me close.  "Ron I'm not going to hurt you."  "I'm not
afraid of you hurting me. I just don't want to be humiliated."  "How can I
humiliate you?"  "I just put my entire guard and allowed you to see my
scars. For the past five months nobody has seen my body except me. For the
past five months I've cried myself to sleep thinking about how horrible I
look and how I fucked my life up. For the past five months I've walked
around with the weight of the world on my back. For the past five months
I've tried to kill myself many times. But on all times I backed down at the
last moment."
  He looked at me with eyes of anger. He looked at me as if I was his child
and I just cane home with nothing but terrible grades on my report card. He
looked at me as if I was the stupidest person on earth and he just wanted
to smack some sense into me.  "Ron I don't understand you. You don't look
horrible and I don't care what you say you're damn beautiful in my eyes. So
what if you got some fucking scars you rise above that! Embrace them for
what they are and live your life!"
  This little pep talk was aggravating. In all my life I have never been a
good listener. People talk and talk all they want but I usually hear music
in my head as they do it. I saw Ron's lips move but I heard the tune of a
catchy ABBA song. It's not that I don't care. It's just that I prefer to
carve out my own path and learn things as they go.  "Now take off your
pants?"
  Without thinking I unzipped and the pants dropped. I looked down to see
numerous short scars covering my legs. The tears came rolling down my face
hitting the floor in s gentle sound. Everytime I saw my scars I felt as
though I died a little on the inside. Paul slowly wiped away my tears and
held me closer in his caring embrace. I felt his finger go into a long scar
on my back and I screamed from the pain.  "I'm sorry I honestly didn't mean
to do that."  "Its okay Paul."
  I stood there in the nude feeling more vulnerable than ever before.  I
don't wear underwear. What surprised me is that Paul actually seemed to
care for me. He didn't laugh or turn his face in disgust. He still had eyes
mixed with feelings of care and anger. Angry because I let my scars
populate and not do anythig about it. Caring because I was a damaged soul
and he wanted to bring me back to my once lumious individuality. I ran my
fingers on his hard chest while staring at the floor. He removed his shirt
and allowed me to look at the massive tattoo on his chest. It was a big
cross enveloped in thorns and roses with his mother's name running down the
middle. I loved it, so creative and unusual.  "If you don't mind me asking
why did you get your mother's name in the middle?"  "She passed away when I
was seven. The only thing I have to remember is this silver necklace with a
cross on it."
  I didn't even notice his necklace today for some reason. But I did notice
it everyday he wore it since freshmen year. My mind was racing a mile a
minute yet I couldn't keep a single emphasis on any one thought and I was
doing things without knowing. Before I knew it I had stripped Paul down to
his socks. His body was spectacular. His long muscular legs looked perfect
with his long cock hanging in the air. I just looked at it because I had no
idea on what to do with it. In my whole life I've never once talked about
sex, seen sex, or had sex. I wanted to ask but I'm sure that would just
fuck up the moment.
  So I stuck out my tongue and gently licked on the large pale head.  As I
licked at it I couldn't help but wonder how big he was. I placed both hands
on the shaft and I still had around four inches left of unconvered cock. My
hand are three inches across so that made his shaft alone ten inches and
his head was another inch certifing him at a hard eleven inches. I licked
the head and jerked the shaft but I wasn't getting the reaction I was quite
expecting. I thought when men get pleasured they throw their head back in
ectasy and moan loudly.  But Paul wasn't. He just ran his fingers through
my hair and didn't force me to do anything I didn't want.
  I opened my mouth and tried to stuff in as much as his cock as I could.
When I began to gag I had a little over half of his cock left and I thought
to myself fuck it. I'm just gonna work with what I got.  I bobbed up and
down on his cock and tossed his low hanging big balls in my hand. I spit, I
licked, I gagged, I did whatever I thought would make him enjoy it. And he
sure did enjoy it because after a while all I heard from him were moans of
pleasure, moans that told me to keep going, loud long moans that made his
hips buckle and his legs shake.
  I could tell Paul was nearing his sexual climax and I wanted to
capitalize on this good deed I was doing. I bit down on the head of his
cock while licking on whatever I could get my tongue on. He grabbed my
cheeks to get a steady grip on my head and I felt hot thick ropes of sperm
hitting the back of my throat. His legs were shaking and it looked like he
was having a seizure. But sperm doesn't taste as good expected, it was
super salty so I spit it all out back on his sock and just sat there on my
knees staring at his huge cock.  "Not bad for your first time."  "I.. I
have to go."  "Ronaldo whats wrong?"  "Nothing. Its not you. I just don't
feel safe. I feel like my father is watching me."
  Paul quickly looked around the room in anticipation. I guess he thought I
actually meant my father was there watching me. But no he wasn't. But I
felt like he was right behind me with a tight hold around the back of my
neck. Getting myself together I put my clothes carefully back on and walked
out of Paul's house.
  When I got home I saw father sitting on the couch facing the door with
his belt in hand. Maybe he was waiting for me. But no. I wasn't going
inside. I refused to let this go on any longer. I reached into my back
pocket and found $500 and a note.  The note was from Paul and it read "If
you're reading this note then good. I want you to use the money and get out
of this place. Get away from your crazy ass father and never look back. I
want you to know I deeply care about you Ronaldo and no matter how far you
go hopefully I'll be in your heart. You're definetly in mine. Take care of
yourself kid."
  I ran. I ran fast. I ran far. Got on the bus. And never looked back. I
have $500 and I'm gonna use it wisely. Maybe live with a person I've became
close with through the internet. I had a phone. And I had his number. Never
looking back. I'm finished here.