Date: Thu, 23 Sep 2010 06:12:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: Shadow <darkshadowcasting84@yahoo.com>
Subject: Under The Moonlit Sky Chapter 6

This story contains scenes of love and sexual interaction between two or
more adult males. If the reading this material is illegal in your country,
state, province, county, municipality, etc., please leave this site
immediately and do not proceed further. If you are under the legal age to
read this, please do not do so.

The author retains all copyright, and rights to this original story. You
may not publish it or any part of it without explicit permission from me
and me only! This story is completely fictional in every way and places and
characters mentioned, DO NOT exist in real life.

Feel free to email me with comments or suggestions at
darkshadowcasting84@yahoo.com

Special thanks to my editor Nate.
Thanks For Reading!
Under The Moonlit Sky Chapter 6

Chezney

	Deep within me there is a pain. Not just an ache, but a pain so
strong, so excruciating, so powerful it makes you numb. There is nothing
you can do to ignore it as it slowly grows inside of you; eating you from
the inside out until there is nothing left. I tried to cry, but tears just
burn my face. There is a devil on my shoulder, watching me burn the
memories straight into the ground. Watching the roaring fire create hell on
earth.

	But there is an angel by my side. She tells me everything will be
okay, just fine. But she doesn't feel the pain within me. She doesn't feel
the ripping and the tearing. She doesn't hear the moaning and the
screaming. She doesn't see that the flames become people, faces. Dancing,
moving in their seductive manor, forcing me to see each and every person HE
stabbed my heart out with. Each and every person HE has KILLED me
with. Because the memories of him not only burn within that house, but the
memory of myself burns with it.

	And the angel; she forces tears in my eyes. She is begging,
pleading for my return. Pleading for an answer to her screams. But the
devil has already taken the last of me. The deal is done. There is no
peace, no salvation, no justice. Just a flame, an inferno and haunting
laughter.

********

	Both my parents were addicted to drugs and alcohol. My mother more
so with alcohol my father more so with drugs. I remember once night when I
was just ten years old so vividly. We lived in a moldy old broken down
two-story house. My parents were having one of their late night parties
which I was to be sent to my room and not to come out until the sun came
up. But being ten I was always curious as to what goes on at these types of
parties.

       So that night I snuck down stairs. There were people everywhere both
young and old. Some were dancing to this strange kind of music and others
were sitting around the couch in the living room. That's where my mom and
dad where. I couldn't see very much as to what they were doing because
there were people all around them. So I went downstairs a little further,
hiding under the end table that was placed in the hallway outside the
living room.

       Peering in the room was heavy with smoke but I could see my parents
clearly. Some of the people around them were drinking out of bottles, cups
and a couple out of clear plastic tubes. Others had needles and pipes in
their hands sticking them in and out of each other, including my mom. She
was sitting on top of another guy with her dress up around her waist. There
was another girl sitting beside her, taking her arm and pushing a needle of
fluid threw her. The girl looked like she couldn't be any more than fifteen
years old. My father was on the other side of the couch. Half passed out
with a drink in one hand and a pipe in the other.

       I sat there and watched them for what seemed like hours. My father
eventually fully passed out but my mother got bored with the guy she was
with and moved on. She was drinking straight from the bottle while she
danced around, letting all the other guys and a few girls too, touch her in
random places. I guy from across the room got up after just sitting there
the entire time and came across over to where my mom was. He had a needle
in his hand and pressed it deep into her arm and dragging her back to the
couch on top of him. After this I got bored and started to head back
upstairs to go to bed. The second my foot hit the first stair, my father
suddenly got up and walked towards the staircase. I tried to run and hide
but it was too late. My father already saw me.

"What are you doing up you little fuck!?"

	His words were heavily slurred and at this point I started to
shake. I had made the mistake once of getting my father angry when he was
drugged, and I still have the scar across by back till this day from him
hitting me with a thin leather belt.

"I..I was thirsty plea..."

	He didn't give me a chance to finish when he hit me hard across the
face before grabbing me and dragging me back upstairs. I was then locked in
my room for two days with nothing to eat, drink, or even a place to go to
the bathroom. No matter how loud I screamed and pleaded there was never an
answer.

	On the evening of the second day my mother finally came up to my
room and unlocked the door. She looked so tired and worn down. Beaten and
broken, I felt sorry for her. The drugs had overtaken their minds and they
didn't know any better. That was until she said something to me that I will
never forgive her for.

"If you are going to ruin our parties at least offer your fagot ass up to
some of the guys and get us some cash. Get downstairs and get your dinner
before it gets fed to the dog."

	That is when I lost all respect, all hope for my parents. I did my
best to stay out of their way, determined to prove myself better. At
fifteen I got a job at the local record store and that was around the time
I found an old guitar just lying in the back of an alley. I took it to a
local guitar repair shop to see if there was anything seriously wrong with
it, and it turned out it was in perfect condition and well-tuned. I
attempted to give myself lessons until my boss from the record store
offered to give me lesson. From then on all I did was play music.

	At sixteen my father died of a drug overdose. My mother threw me
out claiming her new boyfriend didn't like fagot teenagers living around
his house. With no place to go I turned to Morgan. We were already good
friends at the time and she was able to convince her parents to let me stay
in the basement. They were really good people and I did my best to show
them how grateful I was. Soon after Chezney and the Assassins were born.

*****

	The memories of life only seem to bring more pain and
destruction. Adding to the despair of reality. And within me the music that
once kept me alive is slowly fading away. The songs I wrote of love are
dying as the songs I wrote of him are dead. Beyond the flames lies the
reality of life without, without will, without justice, without me.

Note To Readers:

Thanks to all the readers who support this story. Each and every comment I
get mean so much to me. For more of this story as well as my other story
Finding Myself Within Eric, please join the group at:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/shadowcastingcollections