Precedence: Bondage is Part of The Game

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A new file has been uploaded 7/08/2016. The author wishes to send an apology to the readers who have downloaded Precedence, it has been discovered grammar mishaps were missed. The corrected file is uploaded.

Marsha L Ceniceros was born in Indianapolis, Indiana and raised up in Southern California. A rising author, redefining the world of science fiction in a direction of pure fascination! Incredible masterpiece, Sadana 999, a science fiction, suspense thriller in the purest form, action, and adventure. The fast-paced drama rocks!

Her other achievements include Taking the Mind for a Ride, Flames of Torment and Perçu, awarded five stars from Readersfavorite.com for both Perçu and Sadana 999 in 2016. Newest additions: God Answered Me-Trure Story, the introduction and God Answered Me Chapter One- with additional chapters to follow.


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Homeless disappearing, who would even notice? Unless your identity was mistaken. Hidden family secrets and a deranged scientist obsessed with ghastly and inhuman experiments. Who thought Area 51 is the only secret that existed, from Russia to New York into Nevada, a world-wide cover-up. Sci-fi adventure that blends mystery, suspense and horror, unwrapping that surprise gift readers crave!

Chapter
1

Secrets
of Lies

 

Within the vast darkness, Abram’s piercing vision sought the
way through, tiny broken stones beneath his feet moved in distributing ways,
newly born steps sprouted an impression unknown, and streaming rays of light
gently kissed the turbulence of one’s flight. Squeezing between two slivers of
stone, deep within him, he fixed his bed out from God’s throne, adorned once in
his past lifetime; those rainbows of sunlight now despised. Covering his face
from the world outside, remembering what was, to what must be; oh, how those
memories bled, breath after breath, tear after tear, closing those distorted
eyes, remembering there was once a life!

Reflecting imaginings of memories blazed vividly within the
elegant full-size mirror. Alone, it stood with its wooden brass arms, as if a
king in this once memorable passionate master suite. A few blankets lay tangled
across the thirsty, unpolished rosewood floor. An average-sized man wished his
wish in the reflection of lost love; self-pity with a streak of hope opened his
dark brown eyes. Abram examined his messy shoulder-length hair and unshaven
look. He was a far cry from the man who always gave himself quality care. Son
of a prominent doctor and grandson to an influential grandfather had
bittersweet moments he would rather forget. Hypnotized within the vision before
him, realization breathed in his own image wasting away. The subtle impact of
emptiness lingered within each breath! Commitment weighed heavy within; an
emotion he believed his life was not ready for, transformed an entire future.
The once confident man glanced at himself one time more. His faded jeans hung
loose, sagging shamelessly below his waistline after that frustration increased
tension. He was intensely bewildered by the beautiful glittering gold crucifix
around his neck; in addition to these undesirable emotions, his heart pounded,
and it hurt! Losing his grip, shielding his sight from the reflection of barren
emptiness, a forced lethargic walk into the master bathroom awakened reality in
the vastness of
cold
water splashing upon his undernourished skin.
The choices he must bear alone; the agony of need was wedged deep, sending the
cold sensation of chills traveling through his torso. Touching his favorite
gold shaver, mentally confused by his individuality, that intimate strife to
believe in himself seemed useless; hoping a shave would ease this horrible
streak of discouragement, he gently tapped the shaver inside the sink. The
sound of running water brought visions of his father’s past stories to life.

Abram’s father, Erin Geoffrey II, a wealthy, prominent
brain surgeon, married seven times. Committed long hours to teaching students
tarnished his marriages. ‘Death do us part’ was literally deleted in the
wedding vows of his last three marriages; also, the temptation had caressed his
dark side of life with flames of desire, want and need quite a lot, while the
other end of his life demanded full attention with life-and-death decisions daily.
Oh, don’t take me wrong; Erin Geoffrey II was a grateful man, who fought his
way from poverty. The horrible disease of brain cancer had taken Erin’s mother
to her death, dying at home in his arms; he was sixteen at the time. Erin’s
father, Andon, was a truck driver, leaving suddenly 30 days after his wife’s
demise, never to come back home.

Although Abram’s father, Erin, grew into a man before his
time with the untimely death of his mother’s passing, slipping through the
cracks into a world of crime, when distress devours the soul, was altogether
too common among teenagers in those days, although this blanket of death
carried a silver lining. Blessed with a perfectly
sharp, structured
body, Erin’s hope for a vocation as a male model became evident two years after
his mother’s death, along with the realization that dreams do come true, and
he came
with immeasurable success. The salient caliber of his long blonde hair,
muscular build, and those sexy brown eyes attracted women of all sorts. After
Erin’s mother died, a longtime ally of his parents, a mechanic in town, became
his mentor. An interesting, secretive sort of character indeed, Bohdan was his
name; he was one hundred percent of Russian decent, the type of man who
intently stared directly into your eyes when speaking, as his natural instinct
allowed him to be aware of his surroundings at all times. Six feet in height
and constructed like a train, an intelligent, witty business owner; in the
midst of poverty, he exchanged life’s pleasurable moments to retain a secure
environment for his family and neighborhood. Paying down on a neglected brick
building, he opened an automobile repair shop between the poor and rich side of
town, becoming the dependable, trustworthy mechanic everyone dreams of. He made
his presence known and understood; much of his spare time was spent walking the
streets packing a. 357, respected and feared.

Bohdan never let Erin say a bad word against his father. All
the same, being a teenager, Erin often displayed moments of frustration.
Knocking another hole in the garage wall with his fist, Bohdan
showed his
temper, shouting at Erin with his strong Russian accent. Boy, use your
brain! Straighten up, and I never want to hear another foul word from your
mouth! Your parents have always been righteous people!” The oppression was
never-ending for Erin; Bohdan understood this, as the grieving also wilted his
heart every Sunday, standing over Erin’s mother’s grave. One Sunday, an approaching rumble of
thunder gave a menacing atmosphere, threatening
dark clouds came swiftly, and Bohdan believed it
was time to appease the past.

The guilt of life had been sown, the time of harvest had
come. “Only an ending of a beginning,” he repeated endlessly. The long overdue
envisioned confession ran through his mind as overwhelming sounds within the
howling wind seemed to carry whispers of the departed! Sliding the key into the
ignition, the journey started.

Lurking nearby the cemetery, Erin waited for the mystery
stranger visiting his mother’s grave, secretly yearning it to be his father.
Within the short distance from the city’s cemetery, he observed not a stranger,
but Bohdan
drives into the parking lot of the cemetery. Stepping out
from the truck, walking to the passenger side door, he carefully drew out two
packages of red roses. Making his direction towards the burial ground, Erin
quietly approached from behind, stating. “I had to know who it was, leaving the
roses on my mother’s grave.”  A voice, weak and bewildered, as the
enslavement of grief, showered the moment.

This did not take Bohdan by surprise; without turning to face
Erin, calmly he replied. “Imagine the world without mothers, without the
melodies of falling leaves, fear kissing each dream, questions of life running
free!”

Pausing briefly, surveying the threatening storm clouds and
visualizing the rage to come, he continued. “Today, I give you
those answers. Red roses, two dozen never seemed enough to brighten this
shabby, dried up graveyard. After I put you through school, I will move the
woman you know as your mother to a beautiful vault in Kingston, alongside my
wife, the woman that gave birth to you!”

Erin’s hair fluttered wildly in the cold wind, while the
skeletons awoke from their tombs. A confused, tearful young man possessed the
beast in his flesh; the destruction of his soul shook him, as, suddenly falling
to his knees, only two words rang in the wind.

“Why, Bohdan?”

The wind blew, dancing between them graciously, sprouting the
truth of life’s vicious strength, breathing new life into Bohdan’s lungs and
awakening the spirit of faith. Although the time had come, a few

teardrops slid valiantly alongside his cheeks.
In fairness to Erin and in honor of the past, he buckled up his pride and
controlled his manly pose; direct and to the point, he showed no mercy.

Twisting to face Erin, looking upon his own flesh and blood,
he stretched forward, held out his hand and sternly demanded. “Get up and be a
man!” Their hands tied, as he forced his son to his foundation! Putting
forth a requirement, Bohdan demanded Erin would not pass judgment on the woman
he considered his mother and the man he recalled was his father. Starting with
the facts of the state of affairs, Bohdan held nothing back regarding the
couple who raised Erin. Though the sprinkles of darkness shall fall again, a
promise of love is sacrificed as the story
began.                                                                                         

The woman he trusted was his mother could not have children,
due to being raped and beaten in her mid-twenties. These two modest,
God-fearing people,
who loved and lifted him, could not afford the doctors necessary or the cost of
lawyers to take on. The man that Erin believed to be his father was Andon,
Bohdan’s lifelong friend; they rose up together in poverty in Russia. Together
they worked, saving their money. The birth mother of Erin was Bohdan’s wife;
the trio got in contact with others in the underground, and from there, they
traveled to live in America. Four years later, Bohdan’s wife Casmir became
pregnant, giving birth to Erin. During this time, Andon married Carla, an
American citizen. The four of them were able to change the past and secure a
stable foundation. Unfortunately, Carla started out late one night to the
liquor store; she was violated and beaten, then left for dead. In the aftermath
of a hard situation, frightened of the world outside, depression consumed her
soul, making everyday life intolerable. With unconditional devotion and grace,
Casmir provided supreme companionship in many ways; she always got close by
Carla’s side, although soon after, Casmir died suddenly. A weak heart gave no
warning, causing her untimely demise.

Most carefully, Bohdan went on to explain. “I witnessed true
love in Carla’s eyes when she held you; she had a reason to exist, and that was
you!”

However, insisting it wasn’t thought to bear a sad ending, he
explained the traumatic episode of Carla’s death was complete turmoil upon
Andon’s emotions. Passionate memories could no longer soothe him through the
night; although he loved Erin as his own son, losing the Rose that made his
life bloom all those years devastated his mind, and the story went on. Without
notice, Andon packed his suitcase, calling Bohdan’s home, and cried; they
agreed together Andon must leave, as the memories were too much to tolerate, so
he’s left his American life, returning to Russia.

Baffled, in the midst of the story, uncontrollable anguish
consumed Erin.

 “What about me? I believed my dad was Andon. I want my
father brought back. What the hell is my actual name?”

Bohdan lifted his hand and took a stride forward and placed
his finger on Erin’s chest. “You are Erin Geoffrey II, named after my
stepfather. An Irish man, who fell in love with my mother! A good, righteous
man, who never passed judgment on me, accepting me for who I am. Watch your
tone with me. You are my son, and I am your father!”

Bohdan then placed his hands on Erin’s shoulders, firmly
gripping onto him without an ounce of panic and a fearless stare, whispering. Understanding
takes work from the heart!”

Droplets of rain appeared to fall all over, except on Erin
and Bohdan, and although it did touch them, Erin could not sense the charge of
cold raindrops soaking his body.

Dropping the shaver into the sink, Abram awakened from the
accounts of his father’s past stories. Every story traced with a lesson,
immensely worshiped and loved. Past memories, undeniably fascinating
showmanship, his Grandfather Bohdan’s fearless statue stupendously applauded
within Abram’s heart; although he certainly was not a human being who showed passion,
although, protective of his kin. Quickly, his vision was housed inside the
strong whiplash of shame; while the sink lay cold and lifeless, weakness kissed
his lips as if death separated the bonding of breath. The blunder of past
choices and selfish actions, to respect his grandfather more often would have
healed such unpleasant feelings. Instantly, those silent memories burned into
ashes by the ringing of his cell phone! Racing to take in the high hopes of
rekindled love, sadness pounced upon him. The depressing tone in his voice was
evident, and of
course, Grandfather Bohdan did not treasure this.

“Young men these days appear to learn later in life, family
knows when the auditory sensation of one’s voice has brought change!”

Been there, done that, is a memory too close for comfort for
Bohdan; expressing himself in a suspenseful manner is quite scary with an
individual aware of his background, although those unlucky few lay in silence
for eternity.

Between the moments of silence, one reply came from Bohdan.
“Hum.” Slow to apologize, his grandfather, unfortunately, did not perceive this
as a positive note; nevertheless, Abram reluctantly explained the same argument
of commitment, although this time, Viola left, refusing to answer his calls.
Bohdan’s impertinent laugh was laced
firmly with the impulse to hang-up,
although Abram angrily demanded to know why the ill-mannered response had been
inflicted upon him.

Red with anger, a daunting Russian accent snapped back. “You
fool, your father became a model then a doctor. This was neither satisfying nor
presentable in his mind. Losing direction in life, he lost true love, fiddling
away with those computer programs, becoming a richer man! Look what came about
in his spirit, seven marriages! As your father, a spoiled shit, unable to
comprehend vision, a pathetic example of a natural born idiot, you no doubt
have followed in his footsteps!”

A contemptuous tone never directed at Abram in the past
erupted through Bohdan’s vocal cords, along with an unpleasant lecture.
Heartbreaking tears silently creased Abram’s naked breast; his tired
imagination pictured his own oblivious soul, digging his own grave, wishing for
his grandfather’s absent affection, and even a smidgen of appreciation for his
endowments would erase unpleasant episodes of history. However, within the
moments to follow, Grandfather Bohdan unpleasantly opened his eyes, bringing a
new degree of insight into the material universe. Although, the structured
awakening followed towards the conclusion of this unpleasant lecture.

Bohdan calmly stated. “Search your heart and vision; what
does Viola love in spirit? Love and compassion transcend any racial and
spiritual bounds, and the world has and will forever continue to shine in her
eyes, so behold and nourish this. Ask yourself, does she deserve a selfish,
cheating, arrogant man like
yourself?
Frankly, look into your fondness, my grandson. Don’t believe these rich,
spoiled bitches would want you for who you are if you had no money. If you
think yes, you are deadly stupid! The only true one, out of all the women you
have been with, was Viola!”

Sharply conceiving the situation, Bohdan violently shouted.
“I never cheated on my wife, as it is unacceptable to betray the one you love;
if you cannot comprehend this truth and commitment, you don’t deserve her!”

Listlessly, Abram eased his undernourished torso onto the
floor, listening to the dial tone. Emotions of reality, stress, pressure, and
pain tempted the mind to cross the line; years of living ungratefully and
naturally taking
Viola for granted, these thoughts tortured his mind. Gently, he laid the cell phone
on the floor, staring into the city. Lies and more lies populated widely;
unable to count them all, guilt continued to lay one upon another. Unable to understand
this turmoil of emotions, he cried, releasing the confusion and gaining enough
control to think clearly.

Wealth cannot fulfill happiness. Abram’s grandfather was
right, and true love was indeed one-sided throughout the relationship. Secret affairs;
in the light of realization, he understood respect and faithfulness, a virtue
he did not nourish. The playground of the rich without rules, knowing you can
play as hard and often as you wish, was an expected game of
following the leader. This emotional, inner
connection to these other women, whom he believed was close, familiar friends, having
grown up with them, attending the same schools and colleges, was it truly based
on money? They all walked the same path, nourishing the same desires along their
way, maybe or maybe not, he thought to himself. Grandfather often overreacted,
having a way of dissecting life into smaller pieces of a puzzle.

Stretched across the rosewood floor, putting it to the test
would bring out the truth of the situation. Sliding the phone with one finger
closer to where he lay, Abram decided, Marisa would be the inaugural call, an
enthralling, beautiful, dark skinned model. Holding hands through the mansion
houses of education, she contentedly clung to his arm in the finest restaurants,
dance clubs, and five-star hotels. With flowing black hair, her almond brown
eyes would hypnotize the strongest of mortals into believing every day was an
exotic vacation. Securing tired eyelids into the darkness of dreams, reflecting
back in time to when her luscious, beautiful hair caressed his body while lying
next to each other, sharing intimate stories provided an instant of relief;
lifting the cell phone upward and focusing blurred vision, pressing 1 slightly
increased his heart rate!   

The cell phone vibrated in Marisa’s hand. She relieved
herself from the patio table, so as not to have a distraction.

That exciting, teasing accent flickered slightly throughout
Abram’s soul as she softly whispered. “Have you missed me, darling?”

A raging sensation of confidence blazed within him, only to
be quickly doused when his invitation to spend the evening together followed
Marisa’s lifeless response. 

Abram sensed his call interrupted Marisa’s plans, suspecting
she must have a new wealthier sugar daddy.

Calmly, he explained the evening would be cozy, problems with
investments at the moment, diminishing cash flow and so on, the both of them
staying in, watching old movies and sharing a bowl of popcorn, catching up on
life. The usual long overdue conversations, encased with love and laughter. A
short pause invaded the space between them; the effect transmitted itself
perfectly; although still in doubt, Abram silently waited.

Well aware of her brazen confident attitude, Marisa’s
spitfire lashed out. Abram felt the heat, quickly dousing it as a lonely rain
cloud. Bewildered to an extent, however, he understood an invitation without
glamor appalled
her. He had seen this unacceptable attitude blowtorched upon others, never
believing he would be the victim, considering their closeness throughout the
years.

Abram cleared his throat, and that soft, sexy voice uttered.
“Well, is that a yes?”

The echo of fast moving steps was heard in the background,
assuming it was Marisa’s six inch heals moving quickly into another room to
resume their conversation. Her breathing escalated;
intently listening, her words whipped lashed his
brain, and trembling retentive sequence repeated silently within. “Darling, why
do you continue these childish episodes, of course not, diminishing cash flow?
Text this to me later!”

Astonished, that comfort zone ended quickly; nevertheless, an
attempt to trigger those special memories came forth. “Marisa, when was the
last time you had popcorn?”

In the midst of an uneasy situation, her increased anger
harnessed him, and he knew the outcome as she spoke with that unforgettable
brazen confidence. “Please grow up. We are not children anymore; that is for
the underprivileged. Popcorn, darling, I don’t eat popcorn!” Click, click, and
click, one hang-up after another echoed in his ear.

Wavering episodes of colors flickered within the evening;
sunset approached while steady thoughts swam freely, wondering how he could
have doubted his grandfather. Also, hanging on by a thread, was their strained
relationship. He remembered unpleasant arguments erupting between his father
and Grandfather Bohdan, predicting the future. “Life’s lessons will be in
pain!”
Consumed with inner turmoil for his grandson, family visits became
less frequent. One and only one expensive gift had Bohdan accepted; it was a
birthday surprise, the expansion of his auto repair business, after that he
hired employees to work for him, while he oversaw the daily operation of his
shop. Remaining
on the second floor to this day is his two-bedroom suite.
Believing the grumpy attitude his grandfather continued to display from time to
time linked directly to physical labor, day in and day out. In the past,
inquiring more than once to his grandfather, why did he not wed again? The
single and only reply never changed. “My one and only love is an angel!”

Abram never understood his grandfather’s lifestyle, although
he had a life, an exciting private life. Bohdan was part of the Russian Mob in
New York! Remaining forever faithful to these men, whom he would always trust,
as they did not involve themselves in drugs. In fact, it’s been quite the
opposite. They guarded their neighborhood, keeping it clean and organized, and
helped other Russians escape into the United States. The Mafia would not intervene
on their side of town; however, Bohdan had a mutual understanding
with them; also, he restored their vehicles free of commission, and upon
request, they could also depend on each other’s experience and expertise, one
might suppose.

In the midst of his memories, he reflected back to one
particular incident, when he was a youngster, spending the night with his
grandfather. Approaching nine thirty p.m., the wind howled between the
buildings, setting the scene for an eerie, captivating atmosphere. During this
time in history, completed construction to the upstairs living quarters brought
the physically comfortable lifestyle he secretly prepared; therefore, this
planted his grandfather’s anchor into a placid spirit, often bragging his home
was more beneficial than any five-star hotel. This exceptional,
incredibly special
night bloomed into a memorable adventure with Grandpa, watching TV, enjoying
the exciting tales of adventures Grandpa shared. It was interrupted suddenly by
the ringing of the phone; he spoke softly and quickly, then hung up the phone.
Lacing the lines of his wrinkled face, concern was vivid within his expression.
Powerful showmanship slowly danced through the air as the soothing, controlled
tone in his voice would make demons kneel before him; giving strict instruction
to Abram, he told him. “Go to bed and stay upstairs, no matter what you may
hear.”

Of course, as with children, this was a difficult task;
unable to convince himself to obey instructions, curiosity won, and quietly,
Abram crawled on his hands and knees down the hallway, waiting silently,
peering intensely below! Grabbing a smock from the locker, Bohdan strapped it
tight around his body. Fixing his way across the room quickly, he heard his
grandfather count to five, then slapped his hand along a black knob. A

blast of cold wind rushed in suddenly with a loud cracking sound of metal; it
gave him shivers as the garage door rolled up. In the distance, between the
sudden shifts of wind, the screeching of tires became louder. A black sedan
raced into the shop, and immediately the door shut down. The pounding of his heart vibrated intensely between
his arms as he lay on the floor, peering below, observing the outcome!
Imagining the previous state of this immaculate sedan now riddled with bullet
holes, cracked windows along with a flat tire, defiantly ambushed as in the
movies! Looking on, his grandfather grabbed the rear passenger door handle,
yanked with great strength a few times; there was a popping and breaking up
that soon came to a stop as the door opened. Two well-dressed men wearing suits
hurried out from the vehicle to help
carry another man from the back seat of the car, drenched in blood!

Rushing to lay the man on a table nearby, Abram’s immense
enthrallment was mesmerizing; all of them spoke Italian, a language he never
knew Grandfather could speak. Even the dying man attempted to speak, raising
his arm slightly. Opening a worn brown leather bag, his grandfather pulled out
three needles; he injected the dying man, then inserted an IV into the arm. The
scene was magnetic, as he watched his grandfather wash his hands a second time,
apply gloves, then proceed to cut away the remaining clothes from this dying
man’s body. Medical instruments were tossed on a silver tray; chatter from these
people echoed,
sending shivers down Abram’s spine. A scalpel, along with an instrument
resembling tweezers, was used to remove debris buried deep into the skin.
Locked into the fascinating event, everything seemed to freeze momentarily into
silence, as sudden eye contact with his grandfather bestowed upon him, a strong
gesture to go to bed, became the journey’s end. Quietly, he crawled backward, not
making a sound, then tiptoed to bed. Tossing and turning until he fell into a
world of mere illusion, he slipped away, where one’s eyes could not be denied a
slide show of thrills!

Singing had awoken him the following morning, Grandfather’s
unforgettable Russian love song, and a delightful scent of bacon, eggs, and
pancakes. Hightailing it to the kitchen table, he reminisced about the details
of last night’s adventure! Patiently waiting as he viewed Grandpa’s expression,
while he served a delightful plate, topped with whipped cream and strawberries,
quietly presented, along with that look between them. When Grandfather smiled,
lifting his finger to his lips, joined with a wink of an eye! The imagination
of the unknown drizzled onto his plate as Grandpa poured the syrup,
understanding this was never to be spoken of. That was the first and final time
he ever felt an effect of immense closeness with his grandfather.

Memories were interrupted as the monster of reality reached
through the floor; a striking attack of pain ripped at his heart. Sunshine had
closed its eyes, and the moonlight cried; staring into the lights of the city,
the view presented an eerie atmosphere. Somewhat shadowed, this spectacular
view waged war, having a bright
glimmer
of hope that pierced the darkness burning her smile upon him. Richly designed
floor to ceiling windows fed his heart an unforgettable meal of hope and
self-doubt. While his mind held that plate, depression sat as an untouched
dessert, waiting to feed his once hungry soul. Thoughts of suicide enticed that
silver spoon, begging to be picked up. The boxing match continued with one last
question, asking himself, was he ever really good enough?

The doorbell chimes interrupted the moment, as they sang
throughout the empty, once-decorated extravagant suite, forcing his tired mind
to attend to the unexpected visit of a surprise guest. Lifting aching bones
from the floor, the immensity between rooms seemed limitless. Grasping onto the
handle, the capability to open the door was useless with one hand; on the other
side of the door, it was observed the twisting handle was breaking, or the
person was struggling. Abram placed one hand upon the other firmly; a forcible
twist achieved the task. A straight forward gush of air attacked the uninvited
guest, forcing him a few steps
backward!
His hands fought back, waving them widely in
front of his face! His Puerto Rican accent rang in Abram’s ears. “What the
hell, man!”

Michael, A wealthy stockbroker by trade, the expensively
designed clothing, and attractive appearance, showed off surmountable success,
with jet black hair and those glowing brown eyes; this man defiantly spreads
chemistry. He verbally expressed overwhelming shock, continuing to do so
taking a few extra steps back, encouraged Abram to
shower and shave! A handkerchief from his pocket was withdrawn, held over his
nose. With a forcible, although hesitant entrance, made his way past Abram into
the suite. Eerie coldness crept upon him, as the once elegant suite spoke an
obvious depressing story. Slow to withdraw the handkerchief from his face, in
disbelief of the desolate view of vastness, softly spoken, he uttered a few
unpleasant words. Michael placed his hands in his front pants pockets while
remembering some ugly memories of his own. He soon spoke up. “Wow man, she
emptied you out, bro!”

The approach was self-controlled; without words spoken,
Michael closed the door and locked it, placed his hand on Abram’s shoulder,
setting the path, gently guided his friend forward into the large marble
bathroom. Encouraging words were spoken, feeding insight of a new beginning,
stabilizing the future with self-discipline. Michael took his place on the
marble bench, despite the one-sided conversation; the wish for Abram to shave
goes

unanswered. He continued to lecture Abram, to
face the facts of life, displeasure laced Michael’s words. “What’s your problem, bro? Killing
yourself over this woman is not the solution! Your weight loss is tremendous,
and it’s been over a month, Abram! I refuse to take you anywhere in this
condition, you freaking psycho! I will order Chinese takeout; we are dining in
tonight! I don’t understand what the hell you are doing to yourself! Even with
soap and water, your appearance is disgusting!”

 Kicking a towel laying
on the floor, presuming an exit unnecessary, he focused his attention towards
Abram. Rising up and stepping forward, he gallantly embraced his friend
tightly, while the urge to take a chance presented itself. Deeply concerned,
passionately entranced, he kissed him gently on the lips.

Abram whispered. “This isn’t right, man, and it’s wrong.”

Taking a step back, Michael gently placed his hands on
Abram’s shoulders, whispering. “I know, I’m a dog, you know my attraction
towards you. I’m a low life. I took advantage of your state of mind; it won’t
happen again!”

The two maneuvered into a new conversation in the living
room, where they sat on the floor; arriving within 30 minutes was
an incredible dinner
of Chinese takeout. Conversations deepened; good and sad, they left a bit of
encouragement for Abram to ponder. Emerging throughout the evening were the
secrets of the past, opening the closet of skeletons. Michael mesmerized Abram
throughout a series of confessions. The fact that he had no parents was a lie;
they were in Puerto Rico living a good life. Growing up, life was barren, so
becoming a gang member enhanced his belief of being needed, which was falsely
placed; shortly after his initiation, his only brother was killed. Events of the
past came violently one night, torturing his conscience, self-persecution
coupled depression.

Warped mindset
brought on the decision to prostitute himself.
Being bisexual, beaten up a few times, he ended up in a mental institution,
leading to developing a secretive devious, hostile personality. After his
release, relocating to New York, where the family struggled to have a decent
meal, let alone keep a roof over their heads. Falling back into crime,
burglarizing homes, and stealing anything and everything that could be re-sold
became a full-time occupation. One house
belonged to an older gentleman. After taking a
large sum of money and exiting through the back window, a strange vibration
shook his brain. Unreal sensations of fear closed in on him that evening, and
he heard a voice; not hardly any voice, but his deceased brother’s voice,
sounding out. ‘Stop Michael!’ Come to find out, the victim of his crime worked
years saving every dime. That night, the robbery was broadcast on the news, and
solemnly, he vowed to give the money back somehow.

The following story, Michael elaborated in detail. “I
felt something calling me, I took a candle wrapped in my blanket, then headed
out

to a
secret location, in one of those old vacant buildings. I sat there in this frustrated
life, staring at this candlelight, watching it leave behind its own memories. I
sat in wonder, watching the last glitter and realized, no one will remember the
stories of my life, just as the last candle lights.”

Astonished at the displayed intensity Michael had shown,
Abram replied. “That is deep!”

Both engaged in deep laughter as Michael commented. “Yeah
it is; it could have been the medication!”

The story continued with a mystery of force taking on a
beautiful form of inspiration, Michael confided. The stolen money had to be
given back. However, the desire to finish school overwhelmed that moment in
time. Enrolling in adult training and needing enough credits to graduate, he
had held some other course of instruction in mathematics; he quickly learned
what an extraordinary mind he had. In summation, this developed into a life
altering event, thus moving around his world into a goldmine! In conclusion,
this focused his vision towards the stock market, where the unlimited lifestyle
settled nicely within the rich and famous life he never believed possible.
Retiring his parents, he rekindled their true love, Puerto Rico. Taking charge
of them, they were overjoyed with a sizeable monthly income deposited into
their bank account every month.

To
be liberal, wealthy, and content were the key elements to creating a fresh identity. Nourishing that analytical mind, Michael’s success reached beyond
expectations; to be accepted and not judged was a dream come true.

Remembering
his pledge, he bought a retirement house in Florida; the miserable man he
robbed was forever grateful, with a million bucks to endure the remainder of
his lifetime. Explaining past events, in particular, Michael expressed newly
balanced emotions. “He is the only one I ever told my story too; now you are number two! You see, bro, no one would have
accepted me for me. The amusing thing about money is, it’s good and evil; if
not applied wisely, no doubt it will stop you. There
are pros and cons to everything in life. It’s no surprise whatsoever
that this happened to you. Abram, wake up; you’re a spoiled rich kid. Life will
never thrive building it on false dreams and lies, except a small one, now and
then, that’s acceptable.”

Intensely
intriguing and a tad depressing, although amazed with the outcome of the story,
Abram inquired why Michael chose to hang around with him. Michael gave up
eating his Chow Mein noodles. With a few simple assertions, he explained. “You
showed me respect. You, on the other hand, just need guidance. Seeing me in the
shower room with another man, not any ordinary man, a Congressman, and you
chose to keep my friendship and never
remarked it to anyone; that is a friendship worth preserving. Live and learn,
bro!”

Watering
the seeds of friendship, sprouting an everlasting
bond, the unexpected visit bloomed into a blessing in disguise. Bidding
goodnight, wrapped within the friendly hug, Michael saw himself out. Hints of
hope within an unrelenting torment of
personal confusion cradled Abram into a deep slumber of peace.

Tossing
from side to side, Abram felt sun rays of
life flow through him; stretching out on his
cover, inner turmoil manipulated strands of lingering weakness. Chow
Mein leftovers poured unpleasant aromas upon him; this did not alleviate
personal struggle to gain control. Rolling on
his side away from last night’s dinner, the oncoming breeze creased his
face, and another slipped through the open window; gently it spoke to his mind.
“I whispered in your ear, and you refused
to hear!”
Turning to lay on his stomach,
tapping fingers sang for the moment as Abram whispered back. “I don’t like you
very much!” Blowing endlessly, it replied. “Then
why do you come back to me?”

Picking
up the cell phone, the thought of confession presented itself strongly. Making
amends with Viola was necessary; hesitating for a few moments, he prayed she
would answer. Responding after the fourth ring, now shaking his foundation,
surmounting arrogance exploded. “What, Abram, why do you insist on irritating
me?”

Cordial
and direct, fighting the urge to grind his teeth, squeezing the phone inside
his hand, Abram asked. “Will you come back home?”

There
was no pause in her response. Tears flowed steadily; she snapped back. “I found
your cell phone, the one you misplaced the day we argued. I understand now; an unusual treasure chest you kept hidden. You
lied to me again and again, Abram!”

The
truth lashed outward and grabbed him by the throat; seemingly face to face with
deception, his whole spirit shanghaied, condemnation sang! His vision focused
in and out, as he begged. “I’m sorry, please believe me. It will never happen
again. I can make that promise now, please come home, please Viola, come home!”

Determination
controlled sheer anger. Softly Viola answered. “Sometimes in life, we pay the price, and a broken heart can’t wear a
disguise. Someday, maybe you will understand. Good-bye, Abram!”

On
this particular evening, the guilt of the past consumed his soul, along with a massive consumption of cognac. Stretched out
on the floor, he caressed his now long beard. The dream catcher of dreams
spread twilight visions across the rosewood floor. Not knowing if he was awake
or caught in a hallucination, an angel came to him, or so he assumed. The
reflection of something huge spread its
wings. The storybook of memories began! Silently, old movies played on the screen, while sharing a bowl of popcorn,
followed by a night of passionate love. The plush pillows lay alone that night,
upon the king-sized bed. The beauty of Viola’s skin, eyes, and the sound of her
voice devoured every embedded memory. Strangely, a voice echoed. “Comfort comes
in many forms.” These great wings swept over him; sitting straight-up, sweat had soaked the blanket. Staggering to
the bathroom, then emerging from the warm steamy bath, he noticed a note on the
floor. It must have blown off the sink, somehow, so he reckoned. Picking it up,
he read it over for the hundredth time. “You
can preserve your affection; after all, it’s entirely yours!”
This was the
day she traveled out, calling for all the
furniture; after all, Abram insisted, everything purchased was hers. The sentimental writing from her
heart he taped to the bathroom mirror, in the hope he would learn, humiliation
is nothing more than a doubled edged sword.

The
next couple of nights, disturbing dreams tiptoed through restless sleep, not
just any dream, but the same aspiration. Each night, this dream became darker
and richer, as wings of great length continued to sail over him. Horrifying
images surrounded him, as he was chained in darkness with his knees bent, and head bowed, alone to wake up in the
solitude of yet another lonely morning.
Concerned with Abram’s health, Michael continued to visit, arranging his meals
each day and furnishing a personal touch of confidentiality. Still, Abram kept
his life confined to the empty vastness
of his suite, while the nightmares continued for the next brace of weeks.

Spur
of the moment visits became more frequent with Michael’s devotional friendship,
and in time, a positive attitude came about. Of course, Michael believed the
light and nutritious meals must be aiding the mind
to be steady itself. He tactfully forced Abram to exercise in his suite,
with a few push-ups and stretching regimens, but unfortunately, his short attempts to re-furnish the suite were
useless. This soon became the turning point for Michael, who lashed out towards
Abram’s stubborn ways. “I’ve had it with you, man! I have tried bro. She is not coming back! Deal with it
and move on!”  Burning cinders deep in Michael’s soul ignited that blazing
fire; tasting blood in his mouth, imagined himself physically beating Abram
back into reality, and left him no other choice than to abandon the once
hopeful plan!

A
few weeks later, a misty morning presented itself unexpectedly, and a creeping
draft swept over his body; turning and twisting, Abram was soon awakened by the
ringing of his cell phone. It was his father on a return flight from Europe,
with a new companion in hand. Curiously, he asked his son how life has been
treating him these past few months. Of course, he neglected to disclose the
true statement, although the present situation was not much of a mystery any
longer. Erin patiently waited until his son’s arrogant response stopped with.
“Fine, Dad.” Following its path, inconsiderable
chit-chat lingered, and then the
announcement is initiated, gently flowing from his father’s lips, an elite
celebration dinner. Another stepmother, oh, how Abram dreaded this moment! Inquiring
if Grandpa was informed, a short laugh
followed, although the answer given was not laughable. “Your grandfather will
be attending. He will presume the worst, no doubt, sharing his intimate
thoughts on the subject! Although, my son, our concern right now is you! Oddly,
I have received several text messages from your grandfather and a few of your
friends, questioning as to why three meetings were a no show and no call. What
is going on, son?”

Patience
wearing thin, Abram snapped. “Those
meetings are ludicrous, as the final decision is constantly yours! Why me, Dad,
what is your concern?”

A
little sigh escaped his father’s lips as the confession flowed gently. “I
called Viola first, not knowing; my apology, son!”

Infuriated,
Abram shouted. “Why Dad! Why do you remain with this belief, that I’m
not a man able to control my life?”

Dreading
to respond, his composure under control, his father,
explained. “Grandfather also discussed the situation with me; this is the first
reason I resolved to end this vacation and to return home to my son!”

Sparks flew, and fireworks exploded within Abram.
Now standing, pacing back and forth, he angrily responded. “Dad, I am a grown
man, I can manage this!”

Sharply,
in return, his father raised his voice, displaying a temper, not heard in many
years. “Apparently not! Quite a few individuals, who are deeply concerned, have
informed me that you have secluded yourself, especially Edwin! My duty as your
father is to be concerned, and I refuse to watch my son bury himself in
self-pity over a damn woman!  Son, I do love Viola. However, you must realize there are millions of women in
this world!”

Spitefully,
Abram lashed back. “Oh, right, Dad, hop on that horse and ride another! Follow
in your footsteps, that’s what I’m supposed to do?”

A
looking glass of the past distressed his father’s heart, and he lashed back
without a second thought. “Son, at least I didn’t keep them all in a
stable. Ride one today, ride one tomorrow, what the hell were you thinking?” Abram suddenly heard a dial
tone; his father hung up on him. Calling back would be senseless, as his father
could be exceedingly stubborn, like his grandfather.

Hours
later, still barefoot, shirtless, and mentally overwhelmed by the city view,
standing still watching.

 “So many
people, where were they traveling? What are their lives like?”

 Gently he
slipped his hands firmly inside his sagging pants pockets; the mirrored
reflection caught his attention upon the glass window. This amusing sight of himself stared back, an
interesting revision of wonder. “What if
I should shave my beard before this celebration dinner? On the other hand, why
waste the moment tending to such a task to impress? Another stepmother was
useless at my age. Why not find someone who will, and would, love me for who I
am?”

The
ring of chimes echoed, interrupting the bondage of questions and answers.
Breaking away, he made his way towards the door. A hesitant moment kept his
hand from opening the door. Reaching out, he felt paralyzed completing such a
simple task. Coming forth, the second set of chimes echoed in his ears, shaking
the stillness of his soul. With haste, a tug and twist managed to complete the
task; the breeze of forced air made its way inside as the doors opened. Abram
rubbed his hand, while the pain subsided. A young porter stood, both arms
loaded with bags of groceries, miscellaneous items, and mail. Abram assured the
young man a tip would be credited. Nodding with the usual thank you, the young
man saw himself out.

Flipping through the mail, one envelope caught
Abram’s attention; beautifully designed; pastel
butterflies covered the envelope.

Memories
of Viola sprang to life, recalling the day he saw her. There were many
butterflies that day at the convention center. Often helping his father’s
business, he and a friend were overseeing the sales. In the midst of this
partially open convention center, rays of light flashed down from the high-rise
glass windows. Butterflies were everywhere, flying in and out of the
rainbow-colored light.

Getting
a glance here and there between all the roaming people, an absolutely stunning smile grabbed his attention. Dressed in a
pastel green uniform, this beautiful lady created a natural, soft glow, a
representation of the stunning flower garden directly behind her. With one hand
out, a butterfly had gracefully landed in the palm of her hand. The other girls
giggled as she lifted her hand higher and watched the beauty fly away. Silky,
lustful blondish brown hair gave rise to her sparkling blue eyes, which
practically floored him!

Cute
remarks, silly jokes, Viola’s witty
personality remarkably intoxicated those perilous moments, as he watched her
laugh, those luscious lips of hers that he so dearly desired. Guilt flowed from
his lips as he whispered. “Mistakes, mistakes!” Covering his eyes with his
hands, he slipped back to the past to that day. Edwin had accompanied Abram to
the convention; a longtime friend, with a high,
somewhat selfish disposition, he instantly observed Abram’s infatuated trance.
“Snap out of it, Abram. For God’s sake; I have never seen you act this way;
she’s a worker for the homeless shelter!”

Sweeping
curiosity electrified through Abram with an enchanting, passionate desire to
know more about her. Softly replying, he told Edwin. “That young lady could
calm a raging storm in a heartbeat.”

Not
at all pleased, he shrugged his shoulders. Edwin placed his attention on the
various businesses displaying their merchandise. Indeed, a spoiled, rich lifestyle left him a tad blind to care for
another outside the circle of high society, friendships; certainly,
investigating outside this type of life was considered unethical. Around the
globe, he traveled four times, considered
himself to be a prime catch, continually well groomed, with the finest
clothing, and not bad looking. Although, narrow-minded, in a way the middle and
lower class did not appreciate, as he surely knew how to snub another rudely.
Perfection ruled every day he rose from bed unto the calling of the night when God never heard a single prayer.
Shiny brown hair, greenish eyes, manicured hands, and just balance in height
and weight; although business discussions over lunch some may say were their
usual routine, on occasions, a game of tennis occurred between them.

With
an inconspicuous nudge administered sharply, Edwin grabbed his attention. “She
is not your type. Do not embarrass me.”

Undeterred
from an indecent comment, Abram directed his curiosity toward the donation
table. Through the crowded event, he
caught a glimpse of a man, peculiar and rugged in appearance, approaching this
female who enchanted his sight and mind. Uneasy with the oncoming scene, he moved forward and picked up his pace towards
this strange individual, as the man
withdrew what resembled a dollar bill being tossed on the table; responding
politely, she then turned away from the man. The next second, the oversized,
unshaven man lay on the ground; she tapped him out with a sharp right hook, retaliation after he reached out, nipping her
on the backside! Abram ran the last few feet, a profound, yet extraordinary
excitement raced throughout his entire body! Security arrived and took control,
escorting the man out of the convention. Rather quickly, swelling emerged
within her hand; ice was administered. Through the commotion of voices, Abram
interrupted, reading her name tag he inquired if she could move her hand; when
Viola could not, he informed her. “I believe you broke it, miss.” Joining the
aftermath, Edwin presented himself, giving instruction to another group of
security personnel to summon an
ambulance, then re-directed his attention only to flash a disgustful stare upon
Abram.

Refusing
an ambulance, Viola grabbed her purse, abruptly excused herself, squeezing
through the crowd of onlookers, and walked away from the convention, waving
down a taxicab.

Abram
followed and waved for the limo, instructed the driver to engage in the direction of the taxi, which led to the
hospital; watching from a little distance, he observed through the window as
she finished check-in, then had a seat. One hour then two passed, with the
crying, sick and underprivileged in need waited endlessly for medical
treatment. Quiet entrance through the glass doorway, he took a seat next to
her; in fact, it was the only seat left. Appropriately,
Abram whispered. “Look, I recognize you don’t know who I am. My name is Abram.
I can take you to my doctor, no more waiting.”

The
reaction he had hoped for did not appear as a pleasant one. Viola scrutinized him, quiet, although harsh, her
words had a bite that was not easily
taken to heart. “Really, like I am going to leap up and have a stranger take me to a so-called doctor. As far as I
know, you’re a stalker, a rapist, or just plain stupid!”

With
an impetuous chuckle, although serious in reply, his intimidation, to an
extent, became a novel experience,
provided his next effort to perform a deep and graver feel. “Look, I am serious.”
Proceeding to present her a card, it was a private physician; at first glance,
the address of the building was a medical office; also, he explained briefly that the convention was organized by his
father and promised the medical cost would be passed over. The look on her face
was filled with uncertainty. Abram smiled, studying her eyes and made the call.
Ten minutes had elapsed when the cab drove up, avoiding his outreached hand,
quietly lifted herself from the chair. The safe arrival at the medical office
provided great relief budding a secret
hint of excitement. The kept promise Abram held onto his word, following in the
limo, devoted himself entirely, staying by her side through the medical
diagnosis and treatment. Adventure stories spread in many directions, spreading
roots for a strong foundation and the commencement of an interesting relationship, where one should never take the finer
things in life for granted.

The
day moved fast; hunger pains disturbed Abram’s memories, and a most pleasant
breeze flowed peacefully from the open terrace doors. Bowing on two knees, he
remained, offering his hands, sins of
earth’s time, accepted the grace of silence as it flowed, flourishing into
bountiful whispering fears. All of this from the oncoming tears ripping through
his heart as it remembered possibilities and potential; as the wings of dark
desires fought to wrap themselves around true
transformation, he bowed in prayer. “It’s
time.”
Managing to rise off aching knees, contact was
made, the family psychiatrist was in order, the task was accomplished within
minutes, and an immediate opening was available. Casting on soiled clothes, cautiously took hold of the
door handles, trembling, he spread out the doors, and terrified compulsion
slapped the doors tight! Trapped between
two worlds, he caught himself as a heap of deadweight plunged forward against
the door; fear of the outside world swallowed his soul. With one deep breath,
the second attempt to walk outside that door proved to be equally hard.
Internal burning flamed throughout, racing to the bathroom, an irrepressible
urge to release building waste became a first-time experience for him! Sitting
on the throne, he questioned the unexpected
episode of fear.

 “Could
these trials and tribulations become worse?”

 He whispered rocking back and forth, over and
over. “Three strikes, you’re out!”

Thoroughly
washing his hands and face provided little respite in the pinnacle of anxiety;
banging his fist upon the sink, a few deep breaths followed by the effort of
mind over matter!  Nearing the door, sustaining his strength, with
uncontrolled shaking, he rattled the handle; grasping tightly and opening the
door, weakness attacked his legs gnawing ferociously! Executing profound mental
determination to reach his destination, he struggled, placing one foot in front
of the other. “Just a few more steps!”
The forward reflection stared back, a man who lost his identity shown bright
within the stainless steel. A sudden blink of
the eyes changed the scene, stretching outward from the reflecting elevator
doors, a hallucination pounced towards him; hands of steel stretched
out, sought to win the battle! The elevator door suddenly opened, blowing a
gust of clean, cold air and diminished
the special effects of his vision! Michael smiled. “Congrats, bro, we need to
talk, now!” With one step forward, he reached out, grabbed hold of Abram’s shirt, drawing him in before the elevator
door closed.

 

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Marsha L Ceniceros

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