First chapter.

I am trying to use American and Irish accent and slangs, hope it works out good. Don't be pissed for what the protagonist says, the second protagonist will give it justice ;-) and btw, I love Irish accent, so just to say.

It's a mature boyxboy, more a manxman, so you are warned about that and the content.

Dedicated to VanillaTwins, thanx for fanning :-)

Hope you'll like it, please let me know with comments, votes, critiques etc..

Enjoy it! xox

EMMETT POV

My sister tried to call me on the phone, probably she was on Skype and wanted to chat with me. Too bad I saw three hours later.

She was having a hard time there and I was sorry for her and hated even more my family. Inside, they blamed her for helping me and getting her hands dirt with me, keeping in touch with me, outside they proclaimed her wonderful compassion, all inherited from the family. Yep, because they turned what happened to their favour. They tried to help their good for nothing son with the only help he was willing to accept, from his beloved sister. But after that, he left the country and disappeared like an ungrateful son. They cried their eyes out for me and tried to convince not to leave, but I was nothing but a coward, so I just left them behind. Well, it wasn’t completely wrong.

I had been and I still was a damn coward. I didn’t have the guts and will to face everything that came from that accident and I didn’t show any humbleness trying to atone for my weakness and sin and ask for forgiveness. Why should I ask for forgiveness? Yeah, what I had done was wrong, stupid and maybe immoral. But I had done it and nothing can change it. Period. I felt like I was the best over everybody, I felt so full of myself and superior that nobody deserved my sorry and excuses. Well, I got what I deserved, that’s for sure. But people around me expect me to be a super human, they worshipped me like a hero, because of my ability, my speed at changing paths, directions, sort of the game, at exchanging passes. Yeah, I was the king of that and I knew it. But that damn day, my knee decided it was fed up of its king and left me down.

What a coward and weakling I am, it’s really pathetic and disgusting. But why nobody ever told me that, why nobody tried to understand what was going in my mind, my dilemma, my worries, my fears. They just didn’t care and pushed over the edge. And towards to lowest and dirtiest hole. People around you are useless most of the time.

My sister Alice was the only exception. She wasn’t a person, she was a wonderful and real human being. I miss her so much, every single day.

So, I played like at my lowest and worst level, I doped myself and then got into a place to get clean and then ran away, avoiding my responsibilities and duties. Yeah, a pompous and arrogant coward I was and an ungrateful son.

That’s pretty much what people around there thought. Nice, isn’t it? Well, my family didn’t help in that in the least. No, if anything, they helped me to pack my crap and get lost.

My sister had a mind on her own, always considered the black kettle of the family for her independence and extravagance.

Also my younger brother Jamie was a cool kid, but he hates me now with all his mighty. In his case, I didn’t bear any grudge, I knew I fucked up big time and I knew I was his hero, so he could only hate me, blame me and throw crap on me when they ask him about me. I understood him, from a certain angle, and thus didn’t hate him.

At this world you are alone, you just have yourself and if you are lucky enough to be someone and of some use and importance, people will come to you, but once you’ll become useless and nobody, well, they won’t hesitate to throw you away and forget about you. So I just realized I didn’t need anyone. I didn’t want anyone.

I sent her txt I would be online later, but probably too late for her.

I had finished my morning gym schedule and had no classes in the afternoon, no annoying and petulant brats to look after during PE. When I was lucky we had some basketball games, but when I wasn’t, most of the time, I had to play soccer or rugby with them. Yeah, had to learn that shit. It was so annoying sometimes to just stay there and tell them what to do or not to do or to separate them from a fight. I felt so dull and empty most of the time that it was almost driving me insane.

Two girls stopped me before leaving the place and tried to ask me out. What a pain in the neck. I mean, they were really pretty and everything, but nothing special and anyway I was done with that. I had no time, no will, no space, no feelings ... I had nothing to offer to them and I wanted nothing from them. I had enough from people. Except my sister Alice. She was special to me. My angel.

I dragged myself out, caring my bag and thinking how to spend the time. Boredom and monotony have became my life style. I had no hobbies, no social life, aside the minimum you need to keep if you want to stay quiet and left quiet and unbothered. I understood that if you behave too much like a loner, people get more and more curious and annoying and so sometimes I had to attend colleagues’ parties, meetings and sort of get together shit.

What a wonderful life.

The weather this few days was blessing us with sun and a cool breeze, therefore I opted for the park at the end of Grafton Street, a nice and perfectly kept park, the name was probably St. Stephen’s Green park. I bought a sandwich and a bottle of water and then relaxed on a bench, trying to enjoy the sun and trying to tune out the people around me. Tuning people around me out was a defensive tactic. Yeah, I was a coward and weak piece of junk, I knew it. I couldn’t get over what happened in the past, knowing it was all my fault and had no one else to blame but me. Still, I had a grunge with basically all the people that were around me that time. Still. The regret was eating me alive, day after day, hour after hour and it didn’t matter that it all happened already three fucking years ago.

What I had wasn’t a life, was a dry and tasteless surrogate of life, a bare and dull survival. That’s what I had and that’s what my existence was.

It bothered me be around people, it annoyed me see how hard they tried with their own life and how hard they tried to get to know me and befriend me. No matter what, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

In fact, it wasn’t going to happen any time ever. Period.

You want to know if I keep playing and still follow basket? Yeah, I still do. It was in my blood and there was nothing to do about that, although every time I touched the ball or saw a game I felt a dreadful pain inside me and the evil regret suddenly jumped out to bite my ass. Same for guilt and shame. It was painful to touch a ball, to throw a basket. But there was nothing I could do to help it. My knee was fucked up, so no more super hero like jumps, no more slam dunks or the like. I had to be careful even dribbling the ball around. That pained me even more, it was like having no more purpose in life, no more colours or flavours. The only reason I fought my past addiction and my weakness was my sister. I still felt edgy sometimes, still felt like wanting to forget everything and wash away my sorrow and regrets, but I had to be strong and resist, had to fight that insane urge.

A low groan left my throat as I remembered everything and so I shook my head to get it out of that. I concentrated on my sandwich and decided to go for a coffee and slice of cake later in Starbucks.

I was pitiful, what a bad excuse of man I was.

Could I still call myself a real man? I didn’t think so. Nope.

Let’s just enjoy the sun, since the rain had spared us for few days. Meaningless to say that soon we will pay for this. Dubliners couldn’t care less for the rain, they walked out there without umbrella or raincoat or anything, it was like they didn’t feel it. Maybe they were so used that it was like part of them.

I zoned out and almost closed my eyes and BAM, something hit my head so fucking hard and painfully, that for a moment I thought I would see my own head roll on the street. What the hell was that? I shook my head and grasped it, sure tomorrow I was gonna have a huge red bruise. There was something rolling down there, not my head though. It was a soccer ball, a damn soccer ball. That’s what hit me like a bullet. I stood up, feeling pain on the side hit by the ball, and took the ball in my hands, looking around for the damn owner. I saw a group of brats in circle in the green and then spotted one jogging towards me.

“Sorry sham, didn’t see where I kicked the ball, hi.” Said one of the brat, with a strong and close Northern Dubliner accent, a clear troublesome and arrogant looking brat. Who the hell he called “sham”, I wasn’t a sham, what was that actually? Kids here need to learn some more manners.

“Well, pay attention the next time, will ya, dude?” I kept the ball and just stressed my American accent.

“Dude?” He repeated looking at me, with his typical Irish blonde hair, a sort of orange-ish red strong blonde tousled and messed in all direction. “Hey, just give me back the ball, k? What a twat.”

Lord, how the hell did he talk? I swear I need a dictionary sometimes.

“Gonna keep as souvenir?” His liquid blue eyes shined with a very strange light, which I didn’t like it. I threw him the ball and believe me it must had hurt to catch it.

He snorted and sized me with his restless and arrogant eyes, he had a smug and provoking smirk plastered on his pale face. I stared at him back, standing on my 6 and 3, him shorter and smaller, my body had still quite impressive muscles. Then I relaxed, I wasn’t going to get it with a kid, how pathetic.

“Just look where you kick it next time.” I turned and went to get my gym bag, ready to leave the not anymore quiet park.

“You’re a tourist?” He asked suddenly, his “o” and “u” so damn close it was a task to understand the meaning of his words.

“Nope.” I went on my way, not certainly wanting to continue this any longer.

“See you later, then” He called back, mocking my accent. What a moron.

I don’t think so dude, I thought in my mind. Someone like him was the perfect example of people I couldn’t fucking stand and people I avoided. Well, more than the rest.

He reflected too much and too properly how I used to be.