Last name Chamblee.

First name Hezekiah.

Middle name Oshea (The middle name's irrelevant unless it's necessary, but I digress).

Anyway, I'm seventeen years old and the middle child of a well-respected family that's part of the upper-crust society of the greater Boston area as well as all of New England. That means my family is involved in the theme of life, liberty, and the pursuit of opulence.

But if you think that it's all fun and games for me, then you're clearly mistaken. You see, my family thrives on the "Chamblee Diamond Standard," the manifesto of seeking true perfection in everything that we do and say. Unfortunatley for me, nothing I ever did was considered part of that impossible ideal simply because I was the only child that was not only unplanned but unwanted. And all because some sicko decided to rape my mom (a former beauty pageant queen) while Dad was on a business trip.

Sad, am I right?

My father, a financial tycoon, wanted my mother to have me aborted to keep their family legacies intact. Surprisingly enough, she wanted it. And had it not been for my maternal grandfather and his strict Catholic upbringing, I wouldn't be telling this story right now. "This child is not your fault," he had declared when the subject to having the abortion take place came up. "To commit such an act will tarnish the Chamblee and Warner family names completely. I will not allow it. You will have this child, Adelle, and you and Jeffrey will see to it that it is treated like a part of the family and love as equally as your daughters."

If only the man was alive long enough to see that wasn't going to be the case. Oh, I was born into the world, all right. But that didn't stop neither of my parents to have me in the care of the maids and servants who  showed me more love than either of them did. Even when I was in diapers, I had a feeling that my mother felt like she should've gone through with the abortion procedure because I was told over and over again how I only brought bad luck to the family.

"An abomination that this thing is, reminding me of my shame. I wished that I'd gone through with the abortion so our family wouldn't be seen as the flaw in our diamond standards."

Lovely woman, am I right?

Anyway, I was mainly kept out of the spotlight and told to focus on my schooling and never let myself be seen with any of Dad and Mom's friends or even my sister's friends. And when my younger twin brothers Alex and Cameron came into the picture (As a way to make up for me being born with the twins being planned), it all sealed my fate of being the unwanted and invisible middle child. My objectives were clear: stay focused on school, make no contacts with anyone who might see me as part of the family, don't ask questions, and accept the fate of being an unwanted child.

Middle school came around and I was soon facing summers in boarding schools and camp programs in Europe far away from the maids and servants who treated me like I was a member of the family. I had no contact with the outside world and wasn't allowed to go home early. All I could do was let the tutors keep me occupied with endless lessons, no chances of making any friends with the other kids who got to go home early to parties and family gatherings, and adults who made sure that I spent my free time in my room with only the voices in my head to keep me company.

High school at Allendale Christian Academy didn't make things easier as my parents instructed the headmaster and teachers to keep me occupied with homework, test preparations, and have me labeled as the teacher's pet with ho chance of any extracurricular activities in sight. I had one friend named Chance Dalton, a star athlete who wasn't like the stereotypical jock, but no one approved of us being seen together after the first two years, so it all ended. He died during senior year, but I wasn't allowed to attend his funeral because Dad thought he was a distraction. "Your job is to make sure that you keep the family name spotless and do what you're told," he intoned. "There's little room for distractions, boy. Eyes on the prize and your nose clean from scandals."

I won't lie to y'all when I said that the idea of ending my life sounded pleasant. But with me being the only dedicated Catholic in the family (I also had to attend mass while everyone else slept in from hangovers and late nights out), I knew that it was out of the question. All I could do was keep the "Chamblee Diamond Standard" manifesto in mind and suffered in silence, feeling grateful that I still had the love from the servants who hated my family for treating me like dirt. "The Lord will give them their just desserts, Hezekiah," Minnie Jean Simmons, the head maid and the main guardian during the school years, said over and over again. "There's a special place in hell for those who treat children like old furniture. And they'll get what's theirs, trust me. Just keep the faith and your head held high. Your deliverance is close at hand."

If only I was prepared to know that the last sentence was going to be a paradox.

********************

"I'm home," I hollered, taking off the red-and-white cap and gown before handing them and my high-school diploma to a waiting butler. It was the end of my senior year at Allendale Christian Academy and I had dealt with the awkwardness of a commencement ceremony with neither Mom and Dad nor my siblings attending the event. Much to my dismay, neither of the help (including a livid Minnie Jean) were allowed to attend, so I had to head home as soon as my classmates and I tossed our caps in the air. And now, I was facing an uncertain future.

"Mom, Dad? Where are you?" I hollered, looking around to see where everyone was.

"We're in the den, Hezekiah," I heard Dad's rumbling voice echo from the eastern wing of the house. "Come in, please. Your mother and I need to talk to you."

Shrugging my shoulders, I let the newly-arrived bodyguards come and lead me to the destination before greeting my parents (both of them in Armani pastels) with Dad drinking a glass of brandy and Mom enjoying a martini. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Sit down," Dad instructed, pointing to one of the leather chairs that he loved.

I did so quickly.

"Your mother and I have seen you fulfill every single demand that was expected of you, despite being a product of rape," Dad began as he stared me down intently. "Though you lack in athletic gifts like your younger brothers and are no handsome fellow like your sisters, you have managed to keep out of the spotlight and kept the family name free from scandal. Still, your mother and I have decided that your time in the family has come to an end."

Wait, what?

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, eyes lit in confusion.

"Your father means that you are not what we stand for, Hezekiah," my mother replied crisply before downing the last of her martini with a single gulp. "You are a stark reminder of the man who took advantage of me and made me impure. If it wasn't for your maternal grandfather, your father and I wouldn't have to put up with you for all these years. We only allowed you to live in our home to make sure that you know your place around here: nowhere."

Again, folks, isn't she a lovely woman?

"So, you guys are just going to kick me out?"

"Don't be absurd," my father sniffed in disdain. "That would only raise questions, questions that would cause suspicion. No, son, your mother and I have something else in mind."

Just then, the bodyguards came in with guns on hand. "Wait, what is all of this?"

"Simple, my boy. Your mother and I decided that it would be best to just put you out of your misery and make it look like a suicide," Dad commented, handing me a full glass of brandy. "And since you have no friends other than the one who died way too soon yet was seen as a distraction, it'll be easier for many to think that you just felt depressed and decided to end it all on your own terms."

"Do the others know about this?" I asked flatly.

"Not the servants since this room is soundproof," Mom chirped, her eyes lit in glee. "As for your brothers and sisters, they'll all think that you've failed them in being a good brother and will believed that you ended it all hating and envying them. Besides, son, this is for the best. This family is like an investment business. Leigh-Anne and Mariah are assets because they're into the modeling business with Mariah set to marry the senator's son over the summer. Alex and Cameron are assets with their talents on and off the sporting arenas with Cameron being a star student and Alex also wanting to model. As for the servants, Minnie Jean in particular? They hold marginal seniority since they have little to no say yet are loyal enough to stick around. You, on the other hand, are an expendable liability simply because you bring little to the table yet were allowed to live because my father allowed it. And with the million-dollar life insurance policy your father and I have on you, it goes on without saying that you're worth more to this family dead than you are alive."

Damn. That was a kick in the groin that I didn't expect.

All the time spent on pleasing my parents in hopes of being taken seriously went all down the drain since I was destined for death. Surprisingly enough, I felt oddly calm. I wasn't mad, depressed, or freaking out. It all made sense from what the gypsy told me. And the funny thing about it all...it was okay.

Dad saw my placid stare. "Think of this as a mercy killing, son," he said gently. "We can't let you end your life for real since that would definitely go against the family's beliefs and for us to let you leave as a homeless young man would only spell disaster for our image. No, son. It wouldn't do at all. This right here is for the best."

To the guards. "Make sure to take him to his room and make it look like a suicide. Don't let the servants see you."

"Yes, sir," a beefy Hispanic guard intone as he, his partner, and I watched my parents stand up and take their leave.

Mom smiled and waved a final goodbye as she and Dad turned to me at the doorway. "I'm finally free of you," she cheered merrilly as if she won another beauty pageant. "Farewell, abomination."

Once the door was closed, the guards pointed their guns at me and gave me looks of pity. "Sorry that we gotta do this, kid, but we got families to feed," the second guard, a bald-headed Black man, apologized. "Any last words you want to tell your family?"

I downed the glass of brandy in two gulps. "Tell them that I hope they're happy with their choice to get rid of me," I said calmly. "Also, please kiss Mrs. Simmons for me when she learns of my death. Tell her that I'm free from it all and I'll miss her."

The Hispanic guard cursed silently. "For what it's worth, kid, I think you and Cameron are the sane ones in the family," he said as he aimed his gun at my hand. "God bless you, kid. And God have mercy on my soul for this."

On May 31st, 2019, I, Hezekiah Oshea Chamblee, was shot and killed by Enrique Suarez and LaTrell Spencer under the orders of my parents Jeffrey and Adelle Chamblee.

From there, my life came to an end...but this story is about to begin.

And so it begins, ladies and germs! As the saying goes, what's done in the darkness will soon be brought into the light! This chapter will trigger a butterfly effect for the Chamblee family while Hezekiah's journey in the afterlife will teach him how to live.

Coming up, Hezekiah's in the world between the land of the living and the afterlife as he learns of his fate. And if you've read the novella version, then you already know how it's about to go down!

Dedication: GraveyardSiren and FranklinBarnes. Song: "Perfect" by Simple Plan.

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