Date: Tue, 18 May 1999 20:58:02 PDT
From: Chip Dyp <chipdyp@hotmail.com>
Subject: Premonitions

	The following program contains material suited for a mature
audience.  If you are not over 18 you should be leaving now.  Of course I
can't control you and neither can anyone else really.  This story is
entirely false except for the true parts.  This is something which is a
little different than the usual stories that can be found in the Nifty
Archive.  I hope you enjoy it.  And now for our feature presentation.
Viewer Discretion is advised...

	My web site is located at http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Atrium/2898

Premonitions	
by:  Chip Dyp  (chipdyp@hotmail.com)

	"I can still remember the day like it was yesterday.  Everything
had been normal when I went to bed and when I had awoke everything had
changed.  The change wasn't entirely unexpected however.  You see, I'm
either cursed or blessed, I haven't decided which, with an unique feature.
I have death dreams.

	"Now, I'm sure that you all are sitting there thinking about what I
have just told you and have pretty much decided that I am full of it.  I
don't blame you.  If someone told me the same cockamamie tale that I just
told you I would think they were crazy too.  But it's the truth so help me.

	"See, when I have a death dream, I don't know who has died just
that someone that I knew has passed on.  The dream is the same every time.
I am sitting on a hill by a bog surrounded by frogs.  The frogs always
croak the same thing over and over and over in harmony.  'Death.  Death.
Death.'

	"So now you know exactly why I don't share this dream with friends
and family.  I kinda like not having to wear a straight jacket all the
time.  But, to continue the dream ends the same way every time.  I ask if
someone I know has died and the frogs bob the heads in response.  The bog
grows quiet and I ask the final question, 'Who has died?' and I wake up.

	"The only good thing about these dreams is that they occur just as
I am about to wake up normally.  I got out of bed and shut off my alarm,
wondering who or what was going to die today.  The answer to that question
would haunt me for the rest of my life.

	"I didn't spend much time that morning getting ready.  Just the
usual shit, shower, shave routine, got dressed and walked over to Luke's
house to pick him up for school.

	"Now, I know that pretty much everyone reading this is gay or bi,
so you're probably all wondering what Luke looked like.  How would I
describe him?  He was funny, sincere, warm, caring, serious and goofy all
rolled up into one.  I loved being around him.  I knew I was gay, and I
knew I loved Luke, but I never told him.  Fear sucks.

	"But I was describing Luke.  He had this light brown hair, just
about shoulder length, parted in the middle.  His eyes were grey, and
appeared to always be half closed.  He was just about 5'10", and he weighed
about 145 pounds.  It was all muscle though.  He was a runner.  He had
muscular legs and endurance to spare.  His skin was flawless, not marked by
a freckle, mole, beauty mark or anything.

	"He was also ticklish.  I know the other guys thought it was kinda
funny that Luke and I would tickle each other every so often, but they
didn't say a word about it.  I loved being able to tickle Luke.  It was the
closest I thought I'd ever get to him.

	"So, now that y'all have a mental picture of the object of my
desires, I'll continue.  I picked up Luke and we bullshitted as we walked
to school.  We shared a butt, like we always did.  We walked up the path to
the main doors and parted ways, he went to the academic wing, I went to the
fine arts wing.

	"We didn't have any classes together which was cool.  The last time
we had classes together was back when we were both freshman.  We both got
kicked out of class for goofing off.  Needless to say, we were both kinda
glad we were separated.  Getting grounded for a month was no fun.

	"After classes ended for the week, I met Luke at the bottom of the
walk where he had lit up a smoke for the walk home.  To this day, I don't
know why we didn't light up our own cigarettes.  It's not like it would've
broken us financially.

	"I noticed something was different about Luke on the walk home.  He
was quieter, just adding to the conversation, rather than pushing it in new
directions.  He also kept looking at me differently than he usually did.  I
didn't know what was up.

	"I spent the evening at Luke's talking and goofing around.  I tried
to cheer him up, but he wouldn't say what was bothering him.  When I
finally left at eleven, Luke sort of looked at me sadly and said good bye.
I smiled and told him I'd see him bright and early tomorrow morning so we
could head out to the reservoir and do a little fishing.  He smiled back at
me and told me he would see me tomorrow.

	"I almost turned back and asked what was wrong and to this day I
wish I had.  Instead I pulled the door shut and walked out of the house.
The night air was cool on my bare arms, so I jogged home.  I walked in the
door just minutes before curfew, allowing my parents to finally go to
sleep.  I pulled off my shirt and my pants and sat down in front of the TV
in living room.  I flipped through the channels until I found something
interesting, then I sat back and relaxed.  My eyes slowly drifted close and
I fell asleep.

	"I awoke early the next morning with a crimp in my neck that was
screaming for attention.  I gave my neck a little massage and pulled on the
jeans I had worn yesterday.  As I walked into my bedroom to grab a clean
t-shirt and sweater from the drawer, I noticed that there wasn't a cloud to
be seen.  I was happy, it was going to be a great day of fishing.  I
grabbed my gear from the basement storage room and hoofed it upstairs to
the kitchen.  There was a note on the table from my mom.  She had made some
brownies and sandwiches for Luke and me to eat on the fishing trip.  I
grabbed the containers out of the fridge, grabbed the keys to the old Chevy
half ton and walked out to the garage.

	"The view from my basement window couldn't compare with what I saw
once I was out in the fresh morning air.  I whistled to myself and tossed
the gear and the lunch into the truck and started the powerful diesel
motor.  I backed out of the driveway slowly, just to be sure.  I didn't
want to run into a car while backing out of the driveway again.  Once was
more than enough thank you very much.  I drove down the street and pulled
into Luke's driveway.

	"I was kinda puzzled when I didn't see him sitting on the steps
waiting for me.  He usually was outside waiting so I didn't wake his family
when we'd head out.  I shrugged my shoulders and shut off the truck.  I
grabbed the spare key out of the base of the light fixture on the garage
and walked up the front steps to the door.  I pushed the key into the lock
and as quietly as possible opened the door.  The house was still quiet as
it should be.  I pulled off my beat up tennis shoes and crept up the
stairs, trying desperately to make as little noise as possible.  I climbed
the stairs to the third level which Luke was lucky enough to have to
himself.

	"I didn't hear any noise at all in Luke's room.  I figured he was
still asleep and that he had forgotten to set his alarm.  I slowly turned
the door knob and pushed open the door.

	"Any hopes I had of seeing my lovely Luke lying naked on his bed
fast asleep were shattered when I looked into the room.  Hanging from the
rafters, a rope around his neck was Luke.  I called out his name and ran to
wear the body hung, but somewhere in the back of my mind I knew he was
already dead.  I began crying, lifting him up to take the pressure off his
neck in hopes of saving him.  I screamed out for help.

	"Mr. Clawson ran up the stairs into the room where I was still
holding Luke.  He froze at the doorway and looked up at his already dead
son and cried out.  He pushed the bedroom door shut and got up on Luke's
bed.  He grabbed his son's Swiss Army Knife off the dresser and began
cutting through the rope frantically.  Finally the fibers snapped and Luke
fell to the floor, despite my efforts to hold him up.

	"I loosened the rope around his neck, and began administering mouth
to mouth resuscitation.  I knew it was a futile effort.  His body was cold,
his lips blue, but I wouldn't, no couldn't, believe that he was dead.  I
lost track of time as I tried to breath life into Luke, but reality finally
set in when the paramedics puled me away from the body and said he was
dead.

	"I sat crying in the middle of Luke's room for hours that day.  His
family had left for the hospital shortly after the ambulance pulled away
from the house.  Shortly after ten a RCMP constable took me from the room
talked to me about Luke.  He wanted to know if there were any signs that
Luke was suicidal, or if I knew why he did it.  I just shook my head,
unable to answer his questions.  He called my parents and had them take me
home, but not before giving me a number I could call if I need to talk to
someone about Luke.

	"My dad was quiet as he drove me home in the half ton.  He didn't
know what to say to me.  He parked the truck in the driveway, and got out
slowly.  I just sat in the truck staring at the garage door.  My dad came
around to the passenger side and gently led me from the truck.  When we got
inside the house he hugged me tightly and told me that if I ever needed to
talk about anything, that he would be there to listen.  No matter what.  I
tried to smile and told him thanks.

	"My mom came into the room and began fussing over me.  She was all
flustered and I could tell she'd been crying.  She hugged me tightly and
asked if I wanted to talk about anything.  I just wanted to be alone and
told her that.  I went down to my room and sat in the corner in the dark.
I must've fallen asleep while crying, because I felt my dad's hand on my
shoulder as he whispered my name.  The police needed my help.  I took my
dads hand and wiped the eye snot from the corners of my eyes.  I squinted
in the bright light as I walked up the stairs to the dining room where some
constable's waited.

	"Luke had left a couple of letters for me and for his family, but
he had left them encrypted on his hard drive so that only the intended
recipient could read them.  His family had retrieved their letters and were
no closer to figuring out why Luke had killed himself.  They hoped that
letter he had left for me would help explain things.

	"The two officer's escorted me over to the Clawson's house and took
me down to the family room where Luke and I had played Doom and Quake on
many an afternoon.  The computer was booted up and a window opened to a
file.  It was a simple text file, with my name as it's name.  I double
clicked the file and was presented with a dialog box which requested my
password.

	"The officer handed me a handwritten note which had my name and a
sentence.  The sentence was the clue to the password.  When I read the clue
I instantly knew what my password was.  I looked at the family and the
officer's and asked if they could please leave the room so I could read the
note alone.  After everyone had left I entered the password.  The text file
opened, completely decrypted.

	"I slowly read through the note.  The first part was about how
sorry he was, but he thought he had no choice but to do it.  He reminded me
of happy memories and asked me to remember him as he was then, not as he
was now.  When I scrolled down, he explained why he had killed himself.  He
was gay and in love with me.

	"I couldn't hold it in any longer.  My tears started flowing down
my face.  He had been in love with me, and because he thought I was
straight and inaccessible he killed himself rather than deal with an aching
heart.  He told me that he had tried to find out if I was interested in
him, with subtle hints, but that he had realized that I could never love
him as he loved me.

	"One of the officers cleared his throat and asked if it was all
right for him to come in.  I nodded my head and moved away from the
computer so he could read the letter for himself.  I sat down on the couch
and continued crying.  Mr. and Mrs. Clawson came into the room and sat down
in front of the computer so they could read the note.  I slowly stood up
and walked out of the house while everyone was looking the other way and
started walking home.  I walked down our street, overcome with grief.  As I
looked up I could see the oncoming lights of a speeding vehicle and made a
rash decision.  I was going to jump in front of the vehicle so I could be
with Luke.

	"Just as I was about to get in front of the car and end it all, I
felt a hand on my shoulder.  I turned and looked up at one of the
constables who had escorted me to the house.  He put his arm around my
shoulder and walked me back to my house.

	"To this day I thank him for stopping me.  I don't believe in an
afterlife or being punished for suicide, but I know now that I have a lot
to live for.  A couple of weeks after Luke's death, my parents finally let
me go back to school.  The officer that had stopped me, told them what I
had been doing and they made me go see a grief counsellor.  She helped me a
lot getting over Luke's death.

	"On the Monday morning before I went back to school, I sat both my
parents down at the table and told them something that I was ready to
admit.  I told them I was gay.  They hugged me and told me they still loved
me.  I smiled and grabbed my book bag from the door.  I walked down the
stair and back towards the school.  I lit up a cigarette and consciously
reminded myself that I wouldn't be picking up Luke again today or ever for
that matter.  As I approached the school, I flicked the half smoked butt to
the ground and crushed it under my foot.  That was a new beginning for me.
I only wished Luke could've seen it.


May 1999
2731 Words