Date: Sun, 10 Dec 2006 19:05:23 -0800 (PST)
From: Stephen Aramburu <aramflag@yahoo.com>
Subject: Wish Upon A Star

	This is a story about love between two boys.  If this material
offends you, then leave now.  This story actually has a plot and isn't
porno.  If you look past the fact that it's a gay-themed story, you might
actually find it touching.  Any comments, submit them to aramflag@yahoo.com


	It was a quaint mansion...big, but quaint, that stood in the center
of a green, flower-covered plain that seemed to stretch on forever into the
Nebraska horizon.  It was an old mansion, yet showed no signs of decay, for
it had been torn down, rebuilt, and remodeled again and again and again.
There were pure white with tree-trunk-like, marble columns in the front
porch and the typical chandelier, spiral staircase, and eye-popping, plush
carpet that greeted the visitor as soon as they entered through the
typical, ivory double-door that stood in the entrance.  The house looked
quaint and compact from the outside, but once inside, the visitor would
find himself trapped within a labyrinth of identical hallways marked with
row after row of monotonously similar wooden doors.  Once you reached the
end of a hallway and turned the corner...hallelujah!  Oh wait.  You were in
another one...that looked exactly the same.  How many rooms did this
fucking house have?  Nobody was sure...not even the owner.
	Joe's bedroom glittered with the wealth of his parents' family
fortune.  As if his pearl-encrusted, plush bed and his mountain of gaming
systems weren't enough to prove that statement, just take a look at his
window...his diamond-encrusted window that looked out into the horizon and
the 100% fur drapes that embraced those windows.  So Joe Carter is the
epitome of spoiled rich kid, right?  The ultimate brat?  The snobbish,
hassle-free bitch that everybody hated and despised?  No way...
	Joe's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Carter, were internationally renowned
business tycoons who started out as partners (and a little bit more) in a
small business they created together, before their business blossomed into
a huge, international monopoly.  Having gone from rags to riches within a
matter of two, short, decades, Joe's parents constantly pressured him to
someday maintain their family business and to not only keep, but expand
upon their already never-ending family fortunes.  Joe went to prep school
and studied for six hours everyday, under his parents' suffocating orders.
He lived in a very contained, dungeon-like environment...his parents didn't
allow him to have a life or to be happy.  (The gaming systems were just
there because Joe wanted them for Christmas...not that he was allowed to
play them.) Joe's parents didn't love him.  Joe was, after all, their
slave...their worthless pawn whose only purpose in life was to maintain his
parents' highly lucrative business after his parents' time had passed.
	Joe sluggishly crawled into his room...as exhausted as an empty gas
meter.  He'd just received a two-hour lesson from his parents about the
industry of the United States and the world of business...something that
would help the company prosper when Joe was to take over as head.  Even
Joe's scarlet, blood-shot eyes and his pale, sleepless face couldn't
represent how tired he was.
	"Wow...I feel like shit..." he thought.  "It's like I've just gone
through the Holocaust..."
	Close enough...His parents had just sat him in a room and lectured
him about the great importance of money and material wealth and made him
take notes...they wouldn't feed him or hydrate him until the lecture was
over.  They didn't beat him if he was ever not obedient, however...that was
the bodyguard's job.
	Joe hated life.  He hated his huge, gaudy house.  He resented his
parents, his parents' company, money and everything money represented.  Joe
had been convinced, until very recently, that he was not meant to have any
feeling toward anything except hatred...rage...fury...pain.
	Joe walked up to the mirror and looked at himself...relieved to
find that he looked nothing of the corpse that he felt like.  At sixteen
years old, Joe Carter was very debonair and very suave...a result of his
parents' good genes.  He had his dad's bright, blonde hair and a flawless
face.  His arms and legs were well-muscled, despite never having the time
to work out, and his body was like that of any Hollywood hunk.
        Joe writhingly placed one hand onto his back and felt the
bruises... that bodyguard really does know how to beat the shit out of
somebody, the way he should be, considering the fact that he was the former
world champion sumo wrestler.  The memory behind the bruise was almost as
painful as the bruise itself...yet, was what finally convinced Joe that
life had a purpose.
	Joe was seated within his study room, as usual, studying the
finest, most precise details of the structure of the U.S. economy and its
involvement in the life of ordinary civilians...something he still didn't
understand, despite having read the textbook over and over and over again
for the past two years.  Suddenly...a bright light pierced out through the
dark, stormy clouds and blinded Joe.  As Joe investigated the light,
strange things began happening.  The raindrops...they solidified and glowed
with a beautiful, milky white hue and the sun pierced through the dark
clouds.  There, on the clouds, an angel...the most impeccable, unblemished
being that Joe had ever seen...stood emphatically, glittering with the glow
that surrounded him.  Joe couldn't keep his eyes off the beautiful
angel...it was a boy-angel...and to Joe...the epitome of beauty.  It wasn't
big...looked to be around the size of a 12-year-old human.  Joe began
feeling strange feelings...unknown urges that floored his soul.  His
stomach tied itself into knots and his knees grew weak.  Joe reached up
toward the light.  He wanted to go up onto the clouds and touch the
angel...feel the angel...kiss the angel...make love to the angel...
	Suddenly, Joe felt a sharp pain penetrating through his back...as
if a needle the size of a television set had been stabbed right through
Joe's spine.  Joe cried out in pain as he shot right up onto his desk.  It
was then that he felt the fist extending from an enormous chunk of fat
standing directly behind him sink into him...it was the bodyguard...the
exact opposite of the angel that had Joe so mystified a few moments ago.
	"No slacking!" the bodyguard yelled.  "Go back to work!"
	Joe never forgot that angel.  Even though it was just a dream...or
perhaps a vision...it made a lasting impression on Joe's mind.  Joe had
fallen in love with the angel.  He didn't think of himself as gay...but the
angel...he was sure that anybody who had seen what he saw that day, boy or
girl, would've fallen in love.  Joe would spend all his free time drawing
sketches of that angel.  He was an excellent artist and made countless
sketches and paintings of the holy being, but none, Joe knew, could
recreate the sheer flawlessness that the angel possessed.  Joe would flip
through his portfolio several times a day.  He would often fantasize about
being with the angel...about holding the angel in his arms and burying the
angel's face with kisses and feeling the angel's smooth, velvety skin.  A
part of Joe constantly laughed at and taunted himself.
	"Pathetic!" it would say.  "You're such an asshole!  Obsessed over
a dream...about a boy, no less!  You're such a pussy!  Get a life!"
	But at the same time, something else told Joe that the angel was
more than just a dream...it had been his only source of comfort for the
past six months...and the only source of comfort he'd ever felt throughout
the sixteen long, torturous years of his life.  It had given him hope that
he would be rescued from the living hell that he was suffering right now.
	Joe turned out the lights, stripped out of his clothes, and climbed
into his bed.  He looked out into the sky...it was a starry night...the
stars and the galaxies shining together into a tapestry of beauty.  Joe saw
comets...shooting stars grazing across the blue, night sky.  Grandma had
once told him that if you made a wish under such a star, if the star makes
it across the galaxy...then the wish would come true.  Joe didn't believe
in such delusions...but he was willing to try it out.  The angel and the
thoughts of the angel had been the difference between Joe and an
emotionless, lifeless corpse...devoid of happiness and hope.
	Joe picked a star in particular...it stood out among all the
shooting stars as the brightest and the most reliable...and its tail was
long and thick.  He gazed at the star and closed his eyes.
	"I wish...I wish my angel...would come to me," he whispered.  At
that moment, Joe's eyes shut and he fell into a deep sleep.  And the star
that Joe had wished upon...made its way across the galaxy at that exact
moment.


	Well...that's it.  Next chapter, Joe meets his angel.  Any
comments, good or bad, please e-mail them to aramflag@yahoo.com