Precedence: Bondage is Part of The Game

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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!

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, whereupon 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 cool 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 rich, 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; in addition, the temptation had caressed his dark side of life with flames of desire, want and need quite a lot, while the other side 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 strong, 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 his 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 displayed 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’smother’s grave.                                                                                                                                                     

One Sunday, an approaching rumble of thunder gave a menacing atmosphere, stormy 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 drive 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 approaching 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 tear drops 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 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 face. “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, he was 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 obvious, 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 strongly 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 as 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 obviously taking Viola for granted, these thoughts tortured his mind. Gently, he laid the 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. His 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 follow the leader. This emotional, inner connection to these other women, whom he believed were 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 his phone with one finger closer to where he lay, 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 telephone set 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 glamour 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; listening intently, 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. In addition, 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, whereupon he hired employees to work for him, while he oversaw the daily operation of his shop. Remaining as 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 with their side of town; however, Bohdan had a reciprocal understanding with them; in addition, 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, extremely 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 rushing blast of cold wind gushed 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. 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 of 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 men 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, who bestowed upon him a strong gesture to go to bed, became the journey’s end. Quietly, he crawled backwards, 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 glowing 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 either 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 backwards! 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 takes 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 went unanswered. Lecturing his friend to face the facts of life, displeasure laced Michael’s words, “What’s your problem Abram? Killing yourself over this woman is not the solution! Your weight loss is tremendous, and it’s been over a month, bro! 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, bro!”

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 a wonderful 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 mind-set 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 home belonged to an older gentleman. After taking a large sum of money and exiting 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 event Michael elaborated in detail. “I felt something calling me, I took a candle wrapped in my blanket, then headed out into 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.

 

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Marsha L Ceniceros

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