If you enjoying this story, then I promise to do better. Love and light.
The final bell of the day tore them both out of each others eyes with a start. “Dave,” Lily made her way out quickly. As Dave left he met Sara on the hallway and Sara stopped him and she asked for his plans for tomorrow, Dave thought quickly, and realized that tomorrow was Saturday, and that meant his parents wouldn't even be home and wouldn't care if he was as he was currently on their bad books. As he and Sara slowly made there way down the hall,and with the awkward situation.Sara broke the silence. “David, I’d like it if you would come to my house tomorrow...” Sara left the request hanging there, as Dave looked down into her eyes. He could see that it had taken an incredible amount of courage for her to ask, and seeing the fear of rejection in her eyes, made Dave's answer almost automatic. “I ... I think I’d like that too Sara. I’ve...” he was suddenly interrupted by a fist that came crashing into the side of his head. The blow was heavy, and gave Dave a
Sara Terrence was born in December, a cold, freezing, month in London. During one of the worst cold snap in London's history. The winter of 1981 had been brutal, being pregnant during that winter had made her mother Layla cruel , who was already short tempered, and waspish, by nature, nearly unapproachable. Sara’s Father who had been bursting at the seams with joy over becoming a Father , had been forced out of their lives, by Layla’s increasingly hostile behavior. Finally being told to leave, and to never come back, after Layla had torn open a deep gouge on the side of his head with a well thrown glass rum bottle. Michael had been crushed by this. More so because he would never get to watch his daughter grow up, something he had always wanted as he never had love and care from his childhood, this is because he would no longer be with Layla. In truth, he could no longer even say he had once loved her. Her behavior, and increasing hostility towards him having cooled his
Over the next two years life became a steady pattern for Sara. Her drunken, abusive, mother kept her still on the balance between hope, and despair, extending her hand in acceptance, and withdrawing it, only to lash out at her both verbally, and physically, in equal enough measures to keep Sara under control. But life was different for Sara now. She had Rubble, and the beautiful, loyal dog was Sara’s anchor. A shining beacon of unconditional love, and joy, in the otherwise vast emotional wasteland Layla kept her in. The dog did not seem to be your typical pit bull however. He was not the broad, muscle bound beast, most people thought of when they pictured the breed. Rubble was tall, coming up to Sara’s bellybutton at the shoulder, and long and lean, his coat gleaming over well defined, muscle. His body, from nose to hip was almost as long as Sara’s outstretched arms. And his light chocolate eyes always lit up when Sara bounded in the door from school. Layla despi
Johnny’s phone blared at his bedside, rousing him from sleep after only a few hours. Having worked nearly forty-eight hours straight, before finally being allowed to sleep, this was not the way he had planned his weekend to start. Cursing to himself, he picked up the phone and growled “What!?” The voice on the other end of the line was hesitant, slightly raspy, and female. “Mr. Terrence? Am I speaking to John Terrence?” She asked, almost as if she were hoping she wasn’t. And after the way Johnny had answered the phone, he could understand why she might wish that. “Yeah. Sorry for the attitude, you woke me up out of a deep sleep.” He explained lamely, hoping whoever this was could understand “Who’s speaking please?” “Mr. Terrence, my name is Samantha Bowman, I’m a social worker with Child Protective Services,” The lady explained carefully, “I’m calling from St Bartholomew's Hospital. It’s about your niece Sara Terrence.” Whatever the lady on the phone said next was
Lily grew into the promise her late father had shown. By the time she was sixteen years old Lily had reached six foot two inches tall, closer to six foot four if she bothered not slouching, and weighed almost two hundred pounds. She was lean and yet had curves in the right places, her brown hair had filled out and now she kept wore in a up half do bun. Sadly for Lily, it was the soft good looks, inherited from her father Mark Preston, that led him to the last bit of hell the foster system could throw at him. Her foster mother Kendra, a single, rather plain woman in her forties had gotten drunk one night, and knowing how Lily reacted to harsh words, began berating her for being such a failure that her parents didn’t even want her. Lily had been near tears wondering why she was being treated this way, until with a sultry smile she had told her how he could make up for his failings. Taking Lily by the hand she had led her to her bedroom. Pushing her against t
By the time the two week suspension was over, the tale of what Dave had done,spread like that of a wild fire,but contending with that news was the gossips of Sara and Lily and what seems to be a love affair,some said it was a love triangle as Dave went out of his way and defended Sara and it could only be out of love. It was all over school that the boy had burnt James Harden to the ground single handedly . But the rumors now said he had backed down half of the football team while doing it. The stories varied widely, some claiming that Dave had used some kind of weapon, which many believed had to be true, since James was now slated to miss the final games of the season. Another story claimed that Dave was secretly a black belt holder, and had used some sort of ancient martial arts secret. Everyone claimed to be on a first name basis with him, and every story was supposedly direct from the source. Whatever the case, Dave wanted nothing to do with it. Walking into th
The final bell of the day tore them both out of each others eyes with a start. “Dave,” Lily made her way out quickly. As Dave left he met Sara on the hallway and Sara stopped him and she asked for his plans for tomorrow, Dave thought quickly, and realized that tomorrow was Saturday, and that meant his parents wouldn't even be home and wouldn't care if he was as he was currently on their bad books. As he and Sara slowly made there way down the hall,and with the awkward situation.Sara broke the silence. “David, I’d like it if you would come to my house tomorrow...” Sara left the request hanging there, as Dave looked down into her eyes. He could see that it had taken an incredible amount of courage for her to ask, and seeing the fear of rejection in her eyes, made Dave's answer almost automatic. “I ... I think I’d like that too Sara. I’ve...” he was suddenly interrupted by a fist that came crashing into the side of his head. The blow was heavy, and gave Dave a
As Dave drew closer,the sounds got clearer and he realized that they were that of crying.He got closer and with the door slightly parted, he knew the door was not locked,and silently he let himself in. All he wanted was to find somewhere he could go to avoid the stares for the rest of the day. He knew, after his show in the cafeteria, that he was going to get even more attention than ever. But what he couldn't comprehend was, who also was here trying to get away from all the chaos As he walked in he discovered ,it was an old oversized storage closet, that had been used to house the school’s athletic supplies before the gym had been renovated. It was now used as a catch all for anything the school never used, but refused to throw away. The room was stale, and smelled of old gym mats, and chalk dust, but it was dim, lit only through three small windows near the roof, and it was quiet. The quiet sound of sobbing, and the occasional sniffle, coming from the back of th
By the time the two week suspension was over, the tale of what Dave had done,spread like that of a wild fire,but contending with that news was the gossips of Sara and Lily and what seems to be a love affair,some said it was a love triangle as Dave went out of his way and defended Sara and it could only be out of love. It was all over school that the boy had burnt James Harden to the ground single handedly . But the rumors now said he had backed down half of the football team while doing it. The stories varied widely, some claiming that Dave had used some kind of weapon, which many believed had to be true, since James was now slated to miss the final games of the season. Another story claimed that Dave was secretly a black belt holder, and had used some sort of ancient martial arts secret. Everyone claimed to be on a first name basis with him, and every story was supposedly direct from the source. Whatever the case, Dave wanted nothing to do with it. Walking into th
Lily grew into the promise her late father had shown. By the time she was sixteen years old Lily had reached six foot two inches tall, closer to six foot four if she bothered not slouching, and weighed almost two hundred pounds. She was lean and yet had curves in the right places, her brown hair had filled out and now she kept wore in a up half do bun. Sadly for Lily, it was the soft good looks, inherited from her father Mark Preston, that led him to the last bit of hell the foster system could throw at him. Her foster mother Kendra, a single, rather plain woman in her forties had gotten drunk one night, and knowing how Lily reacted to harsh words, began berating her for being such a failure that her parents didn’t even want her. Lily had been near tears wondering why she was being treated this way, until with a sultry smile she had told her how he could make up for his failings. Taking Lily by the hand she had led her to her bedroom. Pushing her against t
Johnny’s phone blared at his bedside, rousing him from sleep after only a few hours. Having worked nearly forty-eight hours straight, before finally being allowed to sleep, this was not the way he had planned his weekend to start. Cursing to himself, he picked up the phone and growled “What!?” The voice on the other end of the line was hesitant, slightly raspy, and female. “Mr. Terrence? Am I speaking to John Terrence?” She asked, almost as if she were hoping she wasn’t. And after the way Johnny had answered the phone, he could understand why she might wish that. “Yeah. Sorry for the attitude, you woke me up out of a deep sleep.” He explained lamely, hoping whoever this was could understand “Who’s speaking please?” “Mr. Terrence, my name is Samantha Bowman, I’m a social worker with Child Protective Services,” The lady explained carefully, “I’m calling from St Bartholomew's Hospital. It’s about your niece Sara Terrence.” Whatever the lady on the phone said next was
Over the next two years life became a steady pattern for Sara. Her drunken, abusive, mother kept her still on the balance between hope, and despair, extending her hand in acceptance, and withdrawing it, only to lash out at her both verbally, and physically, in equal enough measures to keep Sara under control. But life was different for Sara now. She had Rubble, and the beautiful, loyal dog was Sara’s anchor. A shining beacon of unconditional love, and joy, in the otherwise vast emotional wasteland Layla kept her in. The dog did not seem to be your typical pit bull however. He was not the broad, muscle bound beast, most people thought of when they pictured the breed. Rubble was tall, coming up to Sara’s bellybutton at the shoulder, and long and lean, his coat gleaming over well defined, muscle. His body, from nose to hip was almost as long as Sara’s outstretched arms. And his light chocolate eyes always lit up when Sara bounded in the door from school. Layla despi
Sara Terrence was born in December, a cold, freezing, month in London. During one of the worst cold snap in London's history. The winter of 1981 had been brutal, being pregnant during that winter had made her mother Layla cruel , who was already short tempered, and waspish, by nature, nearly unapproachable. Sara’s Father who had been bursting at the seams with joy over becoming a Father , had been forced out of their lives, by Layla’s increasingly hostile behavior. Finally being told to leave, and to never come back, after Layla had torn open a deep gouge on the side of his head with a well thrown glass rum bottle. Michael had been crushed by this. More so because he would never get to watch his daughter grow up, something he had always wanted as he never had love and care from his childhood, this is because he would no longer be with Layla. In truth, he could no longer even say he had once loved her. Her behavior, and increasing hostility towards him having cooled his