Stoned faith (sequel to - secrets are better off secret), chapter 4
When I woke again, the lights were back on.
And Mike was standing over me holding two mugs, the smell of coffee was strong.
I slowly lifted my head.
I pulled myself into a sitting position.
Leaning my back against the wall. Mike handed me a mug of coffee, still half asleep when he placed it in my hand it slipped right threw and smashed on the ground.
The coffee splattered up.
Mike just sighed.
Mike took a seat beside me.
He rapped his arm around my shoulder. And kissed me gently on the head, like a father would do.
"Ryan, what happened to you kid?" he asked.
"When you came to me three years ago, you knew what you wanted. You wanted a home, a family. But lately you've been pushing me away," He began. He coughed to clear his throat.
"I want to help you. Kid. But you make it incredibly hard some times," He sighed. I could see in his eyes alone he was being deadly serious, nor did he want to say what he was saying.
"But I can see you slipping away from me. From this family."
"Ryan, let me help you and you will be helped. Do drugs and stupid things like that and you'll end up no were. I just don't want to see what happened to many of the kids I went to school with, happen to you." He finished. Tears nearly in his eyes.
He wrapped his arm around tighter.
"Look kid. It's up to you. Come to me if you want help, and if you don't... well I pray for you." And with that he stood up and left the room.
Closing the door softly behind him.
I sat.
And for the first time in a long time I wondered.
I stayed in that basement for the rest of the day.
Then again the next night.
It wasn't until the next day I managed to pull myself up. To build up the courage to talk to Mike.
I knocked on his 'study' door.
"Yea," he called.
I opened the door slowly. Unsure if I should be doing this, yet knowing it was to late to pull out now.
I slowly and nervously walked up to Mike, who hadn't looked up from his guitar yet.
"Mike... " I began.
"Ryan." He butted in.
"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come," He said.
"Yea," I said quietly.
"Look. Ryan. I trust you, I don't want it to be like this between us, EVER again. But I NEED you to promise me this one thing," he began looking up at me slowly. He stood up and placed his base on the ground.
"Promise it will never happen again," He said. Plain and simple.
I nodded.
"No. I want words," He demanded.
"Yes. I promise," I repeated.
Mike smiled. It was the first time he had smiled at me in a while. Dimples appeared faintly on his cheeks.
"I knew you'd come threw, all you gotta do now is..." he paused. The grin still on his face, he laughed faintly to what he was going to say next. "Geeze, I haven't said this is three years. But DON'T.FUCK.UP."
"Don't fuck up," I repeated to myself as I left the room and made my way down stairs.
Estella was in the kitchen eating her breakfast, she smiled at me. "Good job Kid." She laughed. I laughed back.
I kept walking and made my way out side. Ran across the front lawn and over to Tom's house.
I bashed on the front door.
I waited, for a bit before I got an answer.
Tom answered the door, only a very different Tom.
His hair looked as though it was done by a monkey; he was wearing a pair of ripped track pants, and only one sock the colour or dirty white. His singlet looked miles to big and his eyes were blood shot.
In an instant you could tell something was wrong. Very wrong.
"Tom! Oh. My god! What's happened to ya!?" I panicked.
"Nothings happened to me... its Joey."
And Mike was standing over me holding two mugs, the smell of coffee was strong.
I slowly lifted my head.
I pulled myself into a sitting position.
Leaning my back against the wall. Mike handed me a mug of coffee, still half asleep when he placed it in my hand it slipped right threw and smashed on the ground.
The coffee splattered up.
Mike just sighed.
Mike took a seat beside me.
He rapped his arm around my shoulder. And kissed me gently on the head, like a father would do.
"Ryan, what happened to you kid?" he asked.
"When you came to me three years ago, you knew what you wanted. You wanted a home, a family. But lately you've been pushing me away," He began. He coughed to clear his throat.
"I want to help you. Kid. But you make it incredibly hard some times," He sighed. I could see in his eyes alone he was being deadly serious, nor did he want to say what he was saying.
"But I can see you slipping away from me. From this family."
"Ryan, let me help you and you will be helped. Do drugs and stupid things like that and you'll end up no were. I just don't want to see what happened to many of the kids I went to school with, happen to you." He finished. Tears nearly in his eyes.
He wrapped his arm around tighter.
"Look kid. It's up to you. Come to me if you want help, and if you don't... well I pray for you." And with that he stood up and left the room.
Closing the door softly behind him.
I sat.
And for the first time in a long time I wondered.
I stayed in that basement for the rest of the day.
Then again the next night.
It wasn't until the next day I managed to pull myself up. To build up the courage to talk to Mike.
I knocked on his 'study' door.
"Yea," he called.
I opened the door slowly. Unsure if I should be doing this, yet knowing it was to late to pull out now.
I slowly and nervously walked up to Mike, who hadn't looked up from his guitar yet.
"Mike... " I began.
"Ryan." He butted in.
"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come," He said.
"Yea," I said quietly.
"Look. Ryan. I trust you, I don't want it to be like this between us, EVER again. But I NEED you to promise me this one thing," he began looking up at me slowly. He stood up and placed his base on the ground.
"Promise it will never happen again," He said. Plain and simple.
I nodded.
"No. I want words," He demanded.
"Yes. I promise," I repeated.
Mike smiled. It was the first time he had smiled at me in a while. Dimples appeared faintly on his cheeks.
"I knew you'd come threw, all you gotta do now is..." he paused. The grin still on his face, he laughed faintly to what he was going to say next. "Geeze, I haven't said this is three years. But DON'T.FUCK.UP."
"Don't fuck up," I repeated to myself as I left the room and made my way down stairs.
Estella was in the kitchen eating her breakfast, she smiled at me. "Good job Kid." She laughed. I laughed back.
I kept walking and made my way out side. Ran across the front lawn and over to Tom's house.
I bashed on the front door.
I waited, for a bit before I got an answer.
Tom answered the door, only a very different Tom.
His hair looked as though it was done by a monkey; he was wearing a pair of ripped track pants, and only one sock the colour or dirty white. His singlet looked miles to big and his eyes were blood shot.
In an instant you could tell something was wrong. Very wrong.
"Tom! Oh. My god! What's happened to ya!?" I panicked.
"Nothings happened to me... its Joey."
