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 Category:  General Fiction
  Posted: July 14, 2017      Views: 82

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 ABOUT
XYNNIC 
My name is Katherine Wright, and I am here to start on a novel.

To those of you that look at my profile here, I hope that we can become friends, or at least have interesting discussions!

I rather enjoy Asian cultures, more specifica - more...

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This work has reached the exceptional level
A man has a terrible day that takes an odd turn.
"Forgiveness" by Xynnic



I don't know exactly when reality hit me.

It could not have been the moment he left me. No, it was much later than that. I loved him so much, and I worked my life away for him. I did all of this so that I could give him what he wanted. Still, he walked away, he left me alone. Perhaps though, that part was all my fault. I had never given enough time for him, I had been too worn out from work most of the time, vacation plans had fallen through because I had to work at the office, we had fights, and things went wrong. It really was all my fault, I could see it now.

Either way, the reason I knew that was not when reality hit me? That was due to the fact that I had not cried at the time. My loss of him had numbed me and I wanted to cry then, I really did. However, I had grown numb from everything else that had happened in my life, that I could not bare to truly lose him. I loved him. Maybe that was how I had somehow managed to not cry when I found the locks changed, and the note taped to the door.

The note had read, 'Dear James,
I'm sorry, this relationship is not working out for me. You surely must have known for months now, but I have to be the one to cut it off. I will keep the apartment as the lease is under my name. The money in the envelope is what remains of your rent for this month.
Good bye,
Matthew.'

No, the real moment reality had hit me? It was when I got fired from my job, today, now. The only way I could pay the bills, the only way I could even hope to get another apartment here in New York. The only way that I could still not have to consult my parents. That was the one thing that I dreaded the most.

I sat with my head in my hands, my elbows planted on the desk beneath me. My weight was leaned forward as I felt the tears that burned beneath the cover my hands provided. Work was all that I had left. It was everything I had. Suddenly, that too, had been yanked out from beneath me. My perfect world around me had just crashed down and shattered, like glass.

I was alone. I was now without income. I was homeless already, because my fiancee when he decided to leave me, had changed the locks on the apartment doors.

New York is expensive, I know that. I have spent a lot of my life out here. In all fairness, I was actually born out in California, I even attended high school out there! Although, I did move out here, to New York, for college. My parents helped to support my move out here, but then I had come out.

I came out to my parents, it was over the phone. I could not bare to tell them that I loved men, in person. There was no where I had to go now. The darkness and shadows that my hands over my eyes created were the reason I jumped at that moment. I had felt something, a hand probably, brush against my shoulder. Then a woman's voice, my ex-boss's voice, rang out in my ear.

"It's time to pack your things." Those were the words that her exhaled breath cascaded against my ear.

This, sadly enough, was not the first time that I had been fired for something like this.

By now, I knew that it was illegal for them to say the real reason why they had fired me. It was because I am gay. The "official" reason did not say that, though. The "official" reason was that I, James Moore, had been late to work, far too many times. This was untrue, however. I had been late to work, once in the past month and perhaps once more in the entirety of the time I had worked for the company, prior to now.

Of course, there were people that did not work as hard as I did, people that were late far more often than I had been, and even people that flat out did not show up to work without a reason, that still worked here. None of them had been fired, but I had been and the reason was clear as day to me.

My thoughts were rudely snatched back to reality as I stared up, bleary eyed at the security officers that had apparently been told to take me out of the office by force. I was silent for a moment and sighed. My bleary, tear filled eyes were rubbed with a sleeve before, I quickly packed my things and then hurried out of the office.

A storm of gossip, loud enough to catch my ears, followed me out of the building.

"That's him?"

"Yeah. He's gay, right?"

My fears had been all but confirmed now. It was not like I had any solid proof. The reason I had been fired was because I was gay.

The dull, colorless halls around me began to spin and meld together. When I finally reached outside, I stopped in my tracks. My personal things were dropped on the curb, along with the seat of my pants. My elbows rested on my knees. When I finally had a chance to catch my bearings, I realized that I had run right out of the office. The office that I had spent so much time at, that I had forgotten about love.

The tears ran freely down my cheeks, now as I sat on the cold sidewalk there. Today was my worst day ever.

All days, though, they all have a chance to improve. Even as tears ran down my cheeks, I sat down on the curb with my things moved to my lap where I could hold them up to my chest. I pulled my phone out at that moment.

Before I knew it, I saw that I had scrolled down to my mother's cell phone number. I had not called her since that horrible day that I came out to my parents. That day that I had hung up on them, because I could no longer bare to hear their angry voices. I still recalled those angered voices as they howled at me through the phone. The hard plastic, or metal, of my smartphone lay in my hand as I sat there. I just had to think for a moment.

If I were to call them after a year and a half, they may still have not forgiven me for the things I said, the things I yelled back at them before our last conversation had ended.

I still stared down at my phone and took a deep breath, before I hit the button that changed my life. I hit dial.

The smartphone was shakily held to my ear. At the same time, I drew in a deep breath, shaky as well. The phone on the other end was picked up and, well, I panicked. I hung up.

Seconds later, although it felt like eternity, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was the same number I had just called, so I froze up again. They had called me back? Why had they called me back so immediately? Did they even know it was me? Did they think that I was someone else? Were they still mad?

As all of those painful thoughts ran through my mind, I knew what I should do. If I wanted to know what they had to say, why they had called me back? Well, the answer was simple. I had to pick up the phone.

Luckily, the phone in my hand still rung, perhaps on the last ring. I swiped my thumb across the screen, on the green phone symbol, to accept the call.

"James."

The voice in my ear was soft, sweet, familiar. That voice, one cherished from my childhood caused my eyes to burn once more as I let out a choked sob.

"Mom."

"Oh, James!" The sweet, kind, motherly, loving voice on the other end cracked. "I'm sorry, so sorry." These were words that I had never, ever expected to hear in my lifetime. The year was 2017. That was the year my mother, an older woman, in her late sixties, apologized to me.

The words tumbled from her mouth as I could tell that she had burst into tears as well. She was mostly incoherent and soon enough, she became distant and I heard another voice. It became clear, that my father had taken the phone from my mother. Did he have something to say? Was my father still angry at the things I had said to him? Those thoughts coursed through my mind and I was tempted to hang up, but I held onto my phone for dear life. If he had forgiven me? Then perhaps there was still a chance to reconcile with him. I still cared dearly for my parents, I loved them.

"James...?" A voice that was strong, masculine, and stubborn came onto the line. My father. The sobs choked my throat once more as he said something else. "I'm so sorry, my son. I love you. No matter who you are, or who you love, you are our son. Please come home."

The words I heard then, were the only words I had ever wanted to hear from my parents. Those words that I had endlessly craved to hear, night after night in the stony, cold brick apartment I had shared with my ex-fiancee? They had finally been spoken, and I heard them with my own ears. Suddenly, the worst day of my life had just become bearable.

"Mom...Dad..." The words I spoke, were the first words I could comprehend as I sobbed on a cold, stony, isolated sidewalk in New York City. "I'm coming home."

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Author Notes
Edit: Hey, I worked a little bit on the story and tried to fix up some grammatical errors, plus I added a few extra lines in and re-worded some stuff! I hope that it reads a little easier! :)

Original text: I don't know how well this will go! However, I decided to write this specifically for a contest here on FanStory. The prompt was a picture of a man with his face in his hands, who seemed upset.

As I wrote about this man, I felt that he became a person. He was gay, and he had been disowned by his family prior to the time the story takes place. His last memory of his parents was an argument because he had come out to them. He lived on the opposite side of the country from them and he lost contact with them for a year and a half.

At first, I only had included moments, thoughts about his family towards the end of the middle portion of the story. I had the conclusion planned out and that was where I intended to end my story. The only problem was, how to get there. So, I continued to write until I finished.

At this point, I think that there are things I should change and edit, still. This is my first draft of a short story that I wanted to call: Forgiveness.

He received and was able to forgive the people that were the reason he stayed in New York after he graduated college.
Pays one point and 2 member cents. Artwork by Contests at FanArtReview.com

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