This story is pure fictional, a product of my imagination, although some elements of the story are true. However, I am not implying that any of the Backstreet Boys are gay.
This story contains sexual relations between males. If that offends you or it is illegal in your state/country, please leave.
I am not a native English speaker. Thus there might be some spelling and grammar mistakes. I hereby apologise for those. Also I am not into much American slang, so the language migt seem a bit formal. Sorry for that. No on with the story...
Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall by Chris Hanson.
Part 1
He couldn't remember the last time he had been truly happy. There were always things that didn't seem right, always a lump in the very core of his stomach that made him never feel content. When he was happy, he still felt the lump deep inside him, and when he was depressed, it just seemed to grow, and a little bigger for each time he felt down. And he had been depressed lately, or pretty much the whole year.
"Lars! Wake up!" It was his mother calling from the kitchen.
The voice startled him at first. He was in a dream like state of mind. He looked over at the watch on the table beside his bed. It said 7 a.m. and he knew it was time to get out of bed. He looked around his room. It was somewhat a boy's room, with not much on the walls and it wasn't exactly lavishly furnished either. In one end of the room there was a desk with a computer and printer on it, and on the other side the bed.
His mind started to drift away again, to the story he had read the night before, or rather this morning. He couldn't put it away, and it wasn't until 5 a.m. that he fell asleep. He had cried when he read the story, not so much because of its sad content, but because he knew he could never have what the two men in the story shared. He knew he could never stand up in front of his friends and family and say the words, "I am gay". Hell, he could hardly say it to himself without feeling ashamed. Ashamed of being what he was. Ashamed of being a faggot and pansy.
Lars dragged himself to the bathroom. He looked at the pale boy in the mirror. He was no more than 18 years old, but the guise of a human being that the mirror reflected looked so much older. He had black bags under his eyes and his eyes were red from crying.
"Lars!" He heard his mother shouting again.
"I'm up! I'm up!" he yelled back.
He jumped into the shower, and emerged ten minutes later feeling somewhat better. He went downstairs to the kitchen to grab some breakfast. All the other members of his family were already there. His mother, Kirsten, his father, Jakob, and his thirteen year old brother, Alex. Lars finished his breakfast rather quickly and ran upstairs to fetch his school books. When he opened one of the drawers in his desk, his eyes landed on the three packets of strong pain killers. He took them out of the drawer and looked at them. He must have stood like that for several minutes, because his father came to the door and said the bus had already left. Lars quickly put the packets into the pocket of his jacket and left the room.
"If you come right away I can drop you off by your school" Jakob said.
"Thanks dad. I really appreciate that." I answered.
The drive to school took about 15 minutes, and the bell rang as they pulled up in front of the school. Lars and Jakob said their goodbyes and Lars went to his first lesson, Norwegian. The lesson went as usual. Lars thought of anything but Norwegian, and he found his thoughts drift back to the story he had read the night before.
"...and what do you think, Lars?" the teacher asked.
Inger, the girl who sat beside Lars, gave him a small pinch in the side. Lars twitched by the touch.
"...uh..sorry..I wasn't paying attention." he stuttered.
The teacher just shrugged and went on to ask someone else. Lars drifted into his own world again. He could hear voices in his head. "Faggot! Pansy! Faggot! Pansy!". They were becoming clearer and clearer to him. They had been there a long time, but now they seemed to press against the very skull of his head. He couldn't take it anymore, and he suddenly jumped up.
"Stop! Please stop! Stop! Stop!"
Tears streamed down his cheeks and he was crying openly. The other students were shocked, and a sudden silence came over them.
"I don't want to hide behind an illusion anymore" he shouted and ran out of the class room.
He ran down the stairs and into the boys restroom. He was crying heavily by now. Luckily no one was in the restroom at that time. He digged through the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the packets of pain killers. He took out 50 pills and swallowed them rapidly and sat down on the floor. He must have been there for about ten minutes when the door opened. Lars' vision had already begun to deteriorate and he couldn't see clearly who it was.
"There you are," the soft voice of Lars' Norwegian teacher, Ninni, said. "I have been so worried. Why did you run off like that?"
"Uhh...I dunno...." Lars stuttered.
"What's wrong? Do you feel okay? You look a bit pale," Ninni said worried.
"I guess...uhh..I'm not feeling too good...I just swallowed 50 pain killers..." Lars snuffled.
"Oh my God," Ninni exclaimed and ran out of the room.
"I...uh...I think he is waking up. Thank God!"
He could hear his mother's voice as he slowly opened his eyes. He could see his father, mother and his brother all gathered around his bed. He could see the question written in his parents' faces. 'Why? Why did you do it?'
"Hi mom and dad! Alex!" he said with a weak voice.
"Hey son. How are you?" Jakob said with an affectionate voice.
Lars didn't answer. He looked down to the sheets, avoiding the looks from his parents. He could see on them that they were dying to know why he had tried to commit suicide. His mother broke the akward silence.
"Oh God, Lars! Why did you do it? Why did you try to kill yourself?"
Tears were streaming down from her eyes. She completely broke down. Lars didn't say anything. Thoughts were running through his mind. Did he really want to die? He could feel the tears press their way through, and the soft feeling of water running down his cheeks. Should he tell them? A stanza from a song he once heard came to mind.
"So I'll continue to continue to pretend My life will never end, And flowers never bend With the rainfall."
There and then he decided he was not ready to tell yet. But at the same time he felt that he wasn't ready to face his friends and the rest of his family at this time.
"Mom! Dad! I am not ready to talk about this yet. I guess I need some time by myself. I am going to stay with aunt Martha for some time if it's okay with her."
Martha was Jakob's older sister that lived in Orlando in the United States. She married a lawyer from the States and moved over there 10 years ago. Lars had always felt close to his aunt, but he had never visited her. But she had frequently been back home to visit. Martha and John didn't have any children, so she felt really close to both her brother's sons, and she had often urged Lars to come visit her.
"But Lars..." his mother began.
"No Mom...I have made up my mind. I am not ready to face this yet. I am leaving," Lars said, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Not ready to face what son? Come on! You've got to tell us!" Jakob said a bit annoyed. "Tell us Lars! You can't just try to take your own life and then leave us," he continued, now somewhat angry.
"You father is right you know. You have to tell us," Kirsten stated.
Lars started to sob uncontrollably. He could feel the pressure from his parents, and he knew that his father wouldn't give in on this.
"Lars," he exclaimed, "You tell us right now what's the matter!"
"I said I wasn't ready to tell yet, god damnit," Lars shouted.
"Don't you dare speak to me like that. This is all a new trick to gain attention, isn't it?" Jakob said angrily.
"I AM A FAG, alright! A FAG!" Lars yelled into his father's face.
"...ehhh..uh..what?" Jakob stuttered.
"A FAG! You heard me. A PANSY!" Lars cried out.
"Of course you are not gay, Lars." Kirsten tried to smooth things over.
Jakob turned around and walked out of the room. Lars could hear him mumble something like "My son can't be gay. What did I do wrong?"
"Here! Here I am sweetie!" Martha shouted on top of her lounges at the Orlando Airport.
Lars had called his aunt and asked her if he could stay with her for some time. He didn't tell her the real reason for his sudden urge to visit her, and she hadn't asked. At home they weren't speaking to each other. Jakob couldn't look into his son's face and Kirsten acted as if nothing had happened. All this hurt Lars more than he guessed they ever could or would understand. He wasn't even allowed to talk to his brother, and his father had more than once indicated that maybe he should find a place to live. So he had decided to move to the other side of the globe.
"Aunt Martha! How good it is to see you!" Lars said as he threw himself around the neck of his 52 year old aunt.
"I guess it is," she laughed as she pointed to the greeting he had given her.
Martha had brought her car, so she drove them back to her house in one of the better parts of Orlando. Her husband was rather wealthy, a highly successful lawyer.
"John is also very excited to see you," Martha said. "It's been such a long time..." she sighed.
"Way too long," Lars said as a smile formed in his face for the first time in months. At least it felt that way.
They arrived at Martha's house. John came out to welcome them.
"Hei Lars," John said in broken Norwegian.
"Howdy!" Lars said, as they both started laughing.
Lars had always felt at ease when he was with Martha and John. Martha was very different from her brother. She was much more open minded and way easier to speak to and deal with. John was very much the same, so Lars thought they really went well together. They started walking towards the house. Lars could see his aunt and uncle whisper something to each other, but just shrugged and thought no more of it. He felt very tired and felt like going straight to bed.
"I am sooo tired," he said to his aunt and uncle. "Do you mind if I go to bed?"
"Of course not, sweetie," his aunt said. "Let me show you to your room."
Lars fell asleep the minute he laid his head on the pillow. He awoke with the rays of sun warming his face. He cursed himself for not pulling the curtains shut before he went to bed. He knew he couldn't get back to sleep so he just rolled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. He took a quick shower and emerged twenty minutes later feeling refreshed. He headed to the kitchen. Martha and John were already digging in their breakfast. Being Sunday they both could sleep in and enjoy a late breakfast or rather brunch. They exchanged their 'Good Mornings', and Lars sat down beside them and started to help himself with the food as well.
"Ehh...Lars," Martha began. "Is there something wrong? I mean....you look...sorry to say it...but you look like shit."
"Your aunt is right, Lars. We talked about it last night after you went to bed. You really look like you have been stamped by ten wild horses," John continued.
Lars became silent. A tear came from his eyes.
"Ohh...sweetie...come on. Tell me what's wrong!" Martha said affectionate.
"Uhh...Aunt Martha. Uncle John...I'm...I'm...oh shit...I'm gay!" Lars said as he sobbed a bit.
"Ohh...It's that. I know," Martha answered.
"Haa? You know...?" Lars asked confused.
"I mean I didn't KNOW, but I pretty much guessed you were."
"How?"
"Well, I have always read you like an open book. I have seen you LOOK at other guys, and I pretty much figured out you liked boys," she smiled.
"So you are okay with it then?" Lars asked nervously.
"Of course," Martha and John said in unison. "You are the same sweet boy as you were yesterday," Martha elaborated. "So, have you told Kirsten and Jakob yet?" she asked.
Lars started to cry when he thought about his parents. Martha embraced his nephew and held him until he could not cry anymore. He told them. He told about his mother's ignorance and his father practically throwing him out of the house. Martha and John listened in shock to what he had to say.
"I'm sorry my brother's such an ass-hole," Martha said.
"Don't be," Lars said. "I'm here with you two now. I love you both so much."
All three of them started to cry and hug each other.
Lars was sitting on the porch by the big lawn. He was just sitting there doing nothing. He looked at two boys playing soccer on the neighbour's lawn. Evidently, they had to be brothers. They were both blond. The youngest seemed to be on Alex' age, the older one was, he guessed, around his own age. After a while the boys approached him.
"Hi there!" the tall blond said
"Hi," Lars stuttered, abashed by the very hansom boy standing in front of him.
"I'm Nick and this is my brother Aaron. You living here with Martha and John?" he asked.
"Yeah," he stammered again. "I'm Martha's nephew."
"You wanna play soccer with us?" Nick asked trying not to gaze at the stranger sitting in front of him.
"Sure," Lars said smiling and strolled after them.
From the kitchen window Martha saw her nephew playing soccer together with the boys next door.
"This should be interesting..." Martha whispered to herself. "Maybe this is what he needs..."
TO BE CONTINUED
That's it for now...So what do you think. E-mail me with comments, suggestions and questions at chris_h81no@hotmail.com. I need to get some feedback!!!! Until next time...Take care!