Chapter I
CHAPTER I: We will help each other
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"Okay Mr. Carson, how are you since the last meeting?"
I looked at the person sat in front of me, playing nervously with his fingers and avoiding eye contact. A man in his forties, tired of his life, and worn out by alcohol and drugs. His eyes were empty, he only recovered the brilliance in them when he talked about his son, Drake.
"Well, I try... I mean-I'm sorry! I tried to not relapse again but this two weeks I was desperate. My son left home a week ago and I didn't know what to do!"
"Hey, calm down Clark. Why did you argue? What was it about this time?"
I knew it wasn't ethical either professional to call a patient by his first name, as if you were friends. But this man was internally destroyed, he was an impossible case, one of my toughest. When he took a step forward, then he backed five. There was no improvement on him.
"I tried to act like a father, as you suggested. For few days I didn't drink, I even felt better... but then, I saw Drake come back home high and I scolded him. Obviously he never accepts my authority so, what would change this time? I only want the best for him, but I can't if I always spent my money in alcohol and drugs!"
I sighed and wrote everything he told me. I felt pity for him, because after his woman's dead his son started to skip school, got together with bad influences until he joined a gang. He spent all their money in the medical treatment of his wife, then he started his life as an alcoholic and his son took the same path. If Caroline or Theo, in a future, had done the same I would have really failed as a mother and I would be desperate.
I didn't know how they could still sleep under a roof. His son was nineteen and he didn't even finish high school, in his last year his grades dropped heavily and as a result he didn't pass, the following year he started to skip classes until he left his studies.
"Clark, I would like to meet with Drake to see if I can help him too. I'll do everything in my power."
Then I offered him a handkerchief as now his tears were falling due to despair. I only could watch him, as a psychotherapist I couldn't do anything in this cases. As a mother, what he was living was the most feared nightmare of every parent.
"How did I get to this point?! I was so blessed when Drake was born! We had objectives, we were happy and healthy! How could our lives end up like this?!"
I started to panic a bit when I saw him crying louder and screaming. Surely, he was having a panic attach. I only could watch him pacing around the room, breathing heavily, while I tried to make him think straight, it wasn't good when a patient got our of control, far from it.
"Clark look at me and calm down! This is not the end! You still have years to live with your son! You still have to see him growing up as a good man! There's still hope!"
Suddenly, I saw him approaching my body and I became speechless when he hugged me, his arms embracing my torso, and his fingers took a tight hold from the back of my light blue shirt. When we separated I was still recovering from his actions, our eyes met for a split of second but what I saw was... relief? What was he going to do? I looked at him carefully walking towards the door, he was taking short and fast steps and before leaving he turned to me.
"For some people there's no other chances, I no longer see a light of hope."
Then he sighed deeply, closed his eyes and when he opened them again, a single tear escaped. He was smiling. A terrible feeling sprouted inside my stomach along with a shiver running down my spine. He was speaking seriously.
"Thank you so much for everything. I'm happy to have had the opportunity to met someone as good and caring as you. Please, I need you to take care of my son."
At that moment it hit me, he wasn't thinking of that. Right? He couldn't do that to Drake, what would happen to him? He was going to destroy his son's life for God's sake! There was still hope, but he didn't see it, and it worried me because I did.
"No Clark! Don't do anything stupid! Come back! Think about Drake!"
I saw him running towards the front door of the building and not losing one more minute I took all my belongings with me and started to run after him. I knew they lived not too far from the medical center where I work but, I didn't even have the address. After trying to chase him, something useless, I gave up and did what I thought was best and dialed the police number with my phone.
"Hi! My name is Gabriela Wyatt and I'm calling because one of my patients may be in danger. He left the building and ran away maybe he's going home! But I don't know where he lives! Oh God! What I did?"
I started to feel exasperate and anxious, he was about to do something he could regret. The young woman's voice didn't reassure me, because all my thoughts were with Clark, he couldn't do that to me, to Drake. His son wasn't ready for what was coming, why punish him in that way? He was only the victim in all this chaos they called life.
"Calm down Ms. Wyatt. Tell me the name of your patient."
"His name is Clark Carson, he's exactly forty-seven years old. Black hair and brown eyes. He lives with his nineteen years old son, Drake Carson."
"Okay, I got the address. I already sent a patrol car to their house."
After telling me where they lived, I took the car Chloe always lend me and drove to their apartment. All I wished for was for Clark to better not do something stupid, because he was the only patient I considered also as a friend, he was a good man and didn't deserve his life, he deserved a better one.
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"Nice night eh, Aiden."
"You can say it Drake. God, that girl is blessed, what a mouth... Fuck!"
We all laughed at his, almost, moan that echoed inside the storehouse. It was nothing special, just a hidden place where we passed the days making different types of works. We were the pawns of a little Mafia based in New York, more like their puppets. As they didn't want to get their hands dirty with minor issues, they just payed us to, for example, pick up a shipment of drugs and wait for them to take it to the Big Apple, trading guns illegally, and collect arrears, with high taxes, for sure.
Normally we always got into fights with other gangs for the fucking money, which led us, at times, to even kill them. I didn't like to do that kind of job, I was better into beating people, but if you were wondering, yeah, once I killed someone. In the streets it was easy to survive, you had to follow a simple rule: other lives for mine. Even if we were like a big happy family, or seemed to be, you had to keep alive if you wanted to have your head up, that was what they taught us, dignity above all.
Even if we were aware of the fact we could spend the rest of our days behind bars, we didn't care. The only life we knew about was this, we wouldn't be able to survive outside the gang.
"And you Drake? I know that you're spending these days at Zoe's house."
Luke asked me with a knowing look, and a smirk on his face. He was like the brother I never had, and we saved the ass of the other lots of times. I smiled as I passed my hand through my wild hair. He was the only dark skinned guy inside the group, his grandparents, or something like that, were from Africa, and they came to the US trying to find a job, a good future, but they didn't have luck. If not, Luke wouldn't have been inside the gang.
"Yeah man, I fuck her every single night. Since her father left years ago and her mother works every day we're always alone."
Some chuckles and whistles accompanied by claps of hands was all that echoed inside the abandoned warehouse. We were sat on big wooden boxes, containing drugs, cocaine, heroine and weed, along with a new shipment of firearms, while some of the rest of the gang were playing cards, listening to our conversation.
"I heard her mother is a prostitute, is it true?"
"Yeah, and Zoe is good as hell. It seems like she was born with her mother's talent."
We all shared a laugh while, some of us smoked a drag of a joint, and the others listened, letting the cigarettes burn. I met the girl back to school, she was famous for sleeping with everyone so I took the opportunity and lost my virginity with her. I knew her since five years ago, and in all that time I slept with few girls but I always came back to her. She wasn't only a simple fuck, she was also some sort of a friend. Whenever I needed help or someone to listen to my problems she was there for me.
"Damn if she's good! She has a lot of experience! I can't believe she's still not pregnant."
She was very good looking, still, I didn't trust her in that aspect. I knew she always slept with an amount of guys so, I always tried to be protected. If I had to die, I wanted it to be by a bullet in my skull and not for a random STD. I raised my hands in defense trying to show I was innocent.
"If she gets pregnant it won't be mine. The other day when I was walking home I saw her leaving John's apartment."
"What?! John Darby?! From Hector's gang?"
"The same."
John Darby was a motherfucker bastard, and we had some unfinished business with him. He liked really young girls, and how not, he spent a long amount of time in prison, accused of statutory rape, before he came back to the streets, fucking us up. He raped a fifteen years old girl, he was disgusting, we all thought the same. Even if we were low level criminals, I wouldn't never think about violating someone, it was beyond logic.
"He's in his late thirties, man! Zoe is only eighteen!"
"Well, I don't care and it's not the first time I saw her. She only let me stay in her house in exchange of sex so, I don't really mind."
I heard some laughs while I keep smoking. We had a different weed provider, coming directly from California, and we were trying the new product and it was really good, the guy sold it to us for a great prize and we were probably going to start some business with him.
"And with your father? How is it going?"
"Nah, he didn't try to stop me the last time, so I don't care. He thinks that after my mother's dead he should have started to worry about me. Ha! What a joke... and lately he's annoying as fuck, Drake this and Drake that. Cut the crap old man."
"Why's that?"
"Because of his new psychotherapist, I don't know what she's thinking about."
We kept talking for several minutes until Michael arrived. He greeted us one by one after he took off his black cap and jean jacket, it was pretty cold that day, and when he was in front of me his expression changed into a worried one. He was a nice guy, and became a new gang member about my same time. All the members in our group grew up together, so we were like some sort of family.
"Drake, I saw your father run towards your house, like if he was running away from someone. I got a bit worried and I thought I should tell you."
I sighed in frustration. Now what? He always acted like he was half crazy. Since my mother's dead we changed: I became more reserved, and I didn't accept my father's authority just because my mother was the strict one. He started to do drugs and alcohol, some days he even blamed me for her wife's dead. That was when I lost my paternal figure, we didn't seem like a son and a father but as an alcoholic and a druggie.
"Okay, thank you Mike. I'll go see what's happening."
After saying my goodbyes to the guys, I got up and walked to my house, it wasn't far from where we reunited, only ten minutes away. When I arrived at home the first thing that caught my attention was a folded paper, on the furniture, next to the entrance. I opened it and read the note written in the middle of the crumpled and white thin material, signed at the end by my father.
My beloved Drake, I know I made a lot of mistakes, one of them was not caring about you anymore. Some people get new opportunities and second chances, but not me.
I failed at almost everything, letting your mother die, allowing you to leave. What I'll always regret is not to have said you goodbye and not telling you how important you are to me.
I know you passed through a lot of problems but, in the end, I'm proud of you being my son, but not of the way you have to overcome things. Drugs, alcohol and gangs are not the answer but probably it's also my mistake for not being able to be the good father I always wanted to be.
I didn't keep the promise I did to your mother and, I feel completely useless as a father and husband. I hope someday you will forgive me for this, but until then, you can blame me for everything.
This time I think I did the correct choice trusting Gabriela.
I'm proud of you, but please, rebuild your life and don't follow the path I took.
You're my happiness Drake Leonard Carson.
I'll always love you,
Dad.
I was speechless. What did my father do? Where was he? My lungs hurt for how fast I was breathing, I felt as I was about to collapse on the cold floor. All the possible scenarios passed through my mind, and I wasn't ashamed to say I was scared shitless. We could have a lot of problems, and even if I hated him, he was still my father.
"Dad! Where are you?!"
I started to look for him. Cursing under my breath, I slammed all the house doors shut after me when I didn't see him. The kitchen, living room, the bathroom, he wasn't there. Then I made my way to the only room I didn't check.
"Fuck!"
When I got to his bedroom I saw him. The white wall was splattered with his blood, his body was lying on the, now, red bed with his shotgun by his side and his head resting on the light blue pillow. The smell was terrible and it made me want to throw up. His eyes were half open, his lips slightly parted and under his jaw there was the dark and bloody bullet hole, with scraps of skin around its perimeter. Realization hit me. He was dead. He committed suicide.
"Well done dad... well done."
I could only whisper in a soft way at the sight. Starting to feel uneasy, I had the need to support my back on the wall behind me, but my legs gave up and I started to descend slowly until I was sitting on the floor looking at the bloody scene. I raised up my left leg and support my arm on my knee, while a stream of silent tears was falling down my cheeks.
Some minutes later, I heard someone knocking the door but I didn't care, I couldn't move. The only thing I could do was sitting there and examine the scene. Suddenly, I heard someone yelling deaf words, then, I heard a loud noise: someone knocked down the door. Not long after I saw a police officer with his gun tight on his hands, his head turned in my direction and his eyes locked for a brief moment with my numb body, before they softened, but I didn't even realize he placed pistol into the holster. My cheeks at the time were dried but I knew my eyes were red from crying.
"Hey boy, what's your name?"
As my body was paralyzed by the scene ahead of me, I couldn't even find the strength to speak, but the officer gave up when he noted I wasn't going to utter a single word. I was so immersed in my mind that I didn't even hear a woman crying, sobbing my father's name.
"Oh God! Clark!"
When my head shifted upwards to see who it was, my eyes examined the sobbing woman. She was, maybe, in her middle-late forties with shoulder brown hair and deep eyes. She was crying, covering her trembling lips with her hand, and when our eyes met, hers widened, as if she just saw a ghost, while my eyebrows furrowed.
"You're Drake, Clark's son."
She knelt in front of me when I nodded. She was a beautiful woman, if I could say it. Ha, beautiful, such a strange word, normally to compliment a girl I used to say something about her tits or ass, but I began to feel it already belonged to a distant past. She was caressing my face with her soft fingers, but suddenly I asked her the first thing that came to my mind.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Gabriela Wyatt, your father's psychotherapist. I'm sorry we have met in this situation."
Her lips formed a sad curve, I gave her the note my dad left to me. Maybe she could explain how we ended up in this situation. Of all the possible scenarios I have never imagined to find my father dead on his bed, with a bullet embedded in his body.
"So, are you this Gabriela?"
She unfolded the paper, taking her time, and once she finished reading, her tears were falling again. After dried them, she nodded and gave me a warm smile. She didn't speak for a moment, but she seemed to think about something important, and it was, because she told me what I wanted to hear.
"Your father though this would be the best thing for you."
"Well, he thought what was best for him. Now I don't know what to think anymore, nor what's right or wrong."
She caressed my face making me turn to look at her. Her eyes were telling me something she wasn't saying to me, but then a question popped inside my head. What about me now? It was kind of true, I didn't know the meaning of take good or bad choices. For the first time in my life I felt lost, my father did what he thought was best for me, but now I was alone. I couldn't understand why.
"Drake, your father asked me to take care of you, so I'll do it. It's not fair that, in the end, everything comes down on you."
I avoided her eyes, before sighing tiredly. Even if I was alone, what I had at the moment it could have been considered a life, so I was going to try to survive the streets and obtain as much money as I could from selling drugs, firearms and doing few illegal jobs.
"I don't know, I already have a life here, so-"
"You call this life? Seriously? Drake, in a couple of years what will you do? Drugs? Alcohol? When you will be in your late twenties, first thirties, three things can happen to you: die for an overdose, be behind bars or be killed by another gang. What will you chose?"
She whispered trying to not being listened by the three police officers inside the room, if they heard her we could have been in deep shit. But she was sort of right, looking at it from the outside, what I had wasn't a life. I wasn't stupid enough to not see it, but at least it was something, better than anything, right? But, the truth that came out from her lips made me think about everything, and then it hit me: I didn't want to be like my father, it wasn't the kind of life my mother wanted for me.
"Drake your father did this to give you a second chance in life, to make you change. He truly though for you there's still hope so please, let me help you. Your father asked me to help you but please, you have to also help me."
I was hesitant for a moment before she started continued her speech.
"I can promise you a decent house, three diary meals, school, you will make new friends. I also have a son who is very friendly and a daughter who can help you whenever you need it with your studies. From now on you'll never be alone, Drake."
She really wanted to help me so I nodded and she smiled brightly. I had nothing to lose. Something told me Gabriela felt as she was the responsible of all of this situation, but I didn't dare to tell her. Maybe, the time to make a right decision came and, for once, I wanted to feel the sensation of it.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay. We will help each other."
Then my eyes widened in shock when she hugged me tightly, it had been years since someone had hugged me, and it reminded me about my mother and how strong were her hugs. In my whole life, it was the first time I made a correct choice, and I wanted to see where it would lead me.
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Hi guys!! I finally edited and republished the book! Yay!!!
How was it?? Did you like it? I know it's super dramatic but things will get better!! :)
I'm really happy since bit by bit I'm writing more books, but they need to be edited too lol! Even so, if you liked this chapter and you want to read more works, then I suggest you to go and read 'Awaken Demons: Stheno' and 'Falling for Chiara, in Rome', you won't regret it!
See you in the next chapter!
Remember to comment, vote and share!! I really want to know your opinion! 😍
↟ Drake
06/02/2017
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Erotic Waves
2016© BecomingApocalypse
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