Revenge

By: Bill W
(© 2013 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1

“Hunter, Ryder and Savannah, would you please come in here,” my mother called out.  “Your father and I have something we’d like to talk to you about.” 

By the way, I’m Hunter and Ryder is my eleven-year old brother and Savannah is my six-year old sister.  After hearing our mother call us, we all rushed into the living room to see what was so important.  It wasn’t often that our parents wanted to speak to all three of us at once, probably because of the age difference. 

“I have some news to share and I hope you’ll all be happy with what I am about to say,” Dad began.  “I’ve accepted a position with another company, which means we’ll be moving to another state shortly after you kids get out of school for the year.” 

“I don’t want to move someplace else,” Ryder immediately screamed.  “I like it here and I don’t want to leave my friends.”

“I want to stay here too,” Savannah added, with a pout. 

I’m not sure she fully understood what was happening, but she joined in Ryder’s protest anyway.  Although this came as a total surprise to me too, and most kids my age would probably have been upset by such an unexpected announcement, I was actually happy with the idea and wasn’t about to complain.  Even though I was just finishing up my freshman year in high school, I hated the school I was currently attending.  I hated the other students and I hated the teachers, but most of all I hated the principal and other administrators.  For that reason, I was ecstatic that I would soon be escaping from my private hell. 

“When did all of this happen?” I wondered, since I hadn’t seen it coming. 

“I think you know I’ve taken several trips out of town over the past few months,” Dad explained, “and even though I told you I was going on business trips, I was actually going for interviews.  I’d been sending out my resume for months and looking for a more responsible position with better pay.  Whenever I was invited for an interview, I would take a vacation day or two so I could travel there.  In the end, I received a couple of different job offers, so your mother and I talked it over before I accepted the opportunity that we both felt would be best.” 

“So where are we moving to?” I followed, since I was curious if we’d be going to someplace that was more open-minded than where we lived now. 

“We’ll be moving to Maryland, because I’m going to be the Mid-Atlantic region human resource director for a larger company,” Dad explained.  “Even though I’ll be working in Baltimore, we won’t be living in the city.  I’ve purchased a home for us in the suburbs, where you three will have plenty of green grass, fresh air and lots of room to be kids.” 

“But doesn’t that mean you’ll still have to do a lot of driving to get to and from work?” I wondered, since Dad had always complained about all the time he spent in traffic. 

“Yes, that’s true, but I will feel better if the three of you aren’t attending an inner-city school,” Dad reasoned.  “I don’t want you to have to put up with going to a crowded, under-funded school or have your mother and me fret about the crime rate or other things you might be exposed to if we lived there.  I’ll put up with the driving, as long as it’s better for you kids.” 

I was satisfied with what I’d heard thus far, so I went up to my bedroom, which I shared with my brother.  I left the other two still arguing with Mom and Dad, as they continued their attempt to talk them out of doing this.  I felt sorry for them in a way, because I would hate to leave my friends too, if I had any, but this was definitely going to be better for me. 

Maybe I should take a minute to clarify the situation and explain a few things.  As I said, I’m a freshman in high school and turned fifteen a couple of months ago, but I happen to be one of the smallest guys in my grade.  I’m barely five feet tall (153 cm) and don’t even weigh 100 pounds (45 kg) soaking wet.  Even though I’m not very big, I’ve been told I’m cute, but I’m afraid the girls telling me this are thinking of me more as little-boy cute, rather than boyfriend cute.  It doesn’t really matter though, because I’m gay, and that brings me to the reason I hate my school, teachers and the administrators. 

Since I’ve always been small for my age and not very athletic, the other kids have always picked on me.  They call me gay, homo and faggot, even though they’ve never had any real basis for those taunts, but it’s been a constant problem since fifth grade.  Even though it was obvious that I was being bullied and picked on, none of the teachers or administrators ever did anything to stop it, even though my parents and I complained about the things that were being done to me.  Besides being called names in public and having similar slurs posted on my Facebook wall, I also received all kinds of taunts and threats, both in person and in cyberspace. 

In school, I’ve been pushed, punched and tripped, but I’ve also had my belongings defaced with homophobic slurs.  One day in P.E. class, just as the class ended and the teacher had left the gym, I was grabbed by some of the macho jocks in our class and they pulled my gym shorts and underwear off.  They then took those things back to the locker room with them, laughing as they went, so I had to try to pull my t-shirt down to cover myself as best I could, as I made my way back to change. 

When my parents found out about what had happened, they were furious and came to the school with me to fill out a formal complaint, but nothing was ever done about it.  Everyone there treated the incident as a harmless high school prank and none of the boys responsible were ever disciplined.  Needless to say, that incident left me emotionally scarred and humiliated, because a bunch of other guys and girls had either seen it happen or saw me trying to discretely sneak back to the locker room.  Quite a few of them even saw my privates, so I became the brunt of a lot of jokes after that happened.  

The only bright spot at school was that there’s one cute boy who’s also gay, but no one else knows it.  We’d talked a few times and he had admitted it to me in private before I got pantsed, but after that happened he began to keep his distance.  Now, he will only talk to me on the phone or by IMing, tweeting or sending me emails.  That’s because he’s afraid if he’s seen talking or hanging out with me then the bullies will start treating him the same way they treat me.  Since he definitely wants to avoid such problems, if at all possible, he figures discretion is the better part of valor.  I understand his concerns and don’t hold it against him, but it sure would be nice to have at least one friend while I’m locked up in this educational prison.  

Fortunately for him, he has never had to face the same type of ridicule and abuse I’ve endured.  Even though he’s not much taller or more muscular than me, he is definitely more athletic and plays soccer and baseball, so the others tend to leave him alone.  Maybe I should have tried harder to make myself blend in, but I probably would have been so bad at sports that no team would want me and I’d still have stood out just as much as I do now.  I guess it was a no-win scenario for me.  

You see my family has lived in Texas for the past several years, after my dad became the district human resource manager for this area.  This isn’t a particularly gay friendly location and those suspected of being gay aren’t generally treated very well.  This is big football country, so as long as you’re an athlete, even if you don’t play football, you pretty much avoid scrutiny, unless you’re caught doing something totally unmanly.  Unfortunately, my size, build, high squeaky voice, lack of coordination and athleticism, love of reading, interest in the arts and getting good grades all worked against me.  I might as well have painted a target on my forehead, because that is what I’ve become. 

It’s also the reason it didn’t bother me when Dad announced we were going to move and why I was the only one that didn’t complain or throw a tantrum.  I was hoping a new environment might give me a fresh start and I wouldn’t be treated as badly at the new school I enrolled in. 

Over the next couple of days, my dad told us about the house and even showed us some pictures of it too.  He said it was originally a brick farmhouse, built in the 1800s, but a contractor had recently gutted the interior and completely remodeled the place.  The best part about it, at least according to my father, was that it came with ten acres.  He said the former owners had split most of their former property into smaller lots, but they refused to divide this last parcel any further.  They felt it had been passed down through the family for years, so they wanted the house to have at least this much land to go with it. 

The last owner had passed away recently, and although he hadn’t lived there for a number of years, he put a stipulation in his will that those inheriting would have to keep the property intact or it would be given to another relative.  It seemed the guy inheriting the place was a contractor, so he decided that since he couldn’t break the property up, he’d gut the house and then completely remodel it.  He knew doing that would increase the value of the property and help attract a buyer, since he realized he wouldn’t get much for the place the way it was at the time.  Seeing he and his crew could do most of the work, it was a good investment for him and would pay off in the long run. 

I have to admit that the pictures of the inside looked really nice and the house was big.  It had four bedrooms, so my brother and I would no longer have to share a room.  The exterior was brick and built in the Federalist style, but it also had a huge porch that ran across the front and along one side of the house.  Since it had lots of land, we’d have plenty of privacy, and that was a major plus in my book, in case I wasn’t accepted there either. 

If that happened, I could always invite over the friends I was able to make and have plenty of room to do things close to home, where other people would be less likely to bother us.  Otherwise, I’d have plenty of space to just hang out alone or do stuff with my sister and brother.  That wouldn’t be ideal, but it would be better than being totally isolated again. 

When school was finally out for the summer, we got ready to move.  Unbelievably, we didn’t have much to do, since the company my dad would be working for had paid a moving company to do most of the work.  We merely packed up our personal belongings, much of which we took with us in the cars.  The moving crew packed up everything else, loaded it all in an 18-wheeler and drove it to our new house.  When they got there, they carried everything inside and placed it in the correct room, so all we had to do was unpack the boxes and put things away. 

The living room, dining room and kitchen, which had a breakfast nook, were on the first floor, along with a bathroom and a den, which my father was planning to use as an office.  Built onto the back of the original house was a pretty big addition, which ran along the entire back of the house and contained a sunroom and family room.  The sunroom had windows along the two outer walls, which would let in the sunshine and fresh air, but it would primarily be used during the spring and fall seasons.  The family room had a huge fireplace located on the outer wall and would be the room where the family would spend most of our free time together. 

Upstairs, there were four bedrooms with lots of closet space.  My parents had a large suite, with a large, private bathroom, and the rest of us had our own rooms too.  I got the biggest of the three, seeing I’m the oldest, and my sister was given the smallest.  There was also a full bath the three of us were going to have to share, but I didn’t feel that would be too bad.  By the time my sister got old enough to start hogging the bathroom, I’d be in college or on my own, so it was a problem my brother would probably have to deal with, not me.  

The first night in the house was kind of strange, because it was totally different.  Since the neighbors weren’t close by and we didn’t live on a main road with lots of traffic, it was kind of quiet, but then the house seemed to make noises of its own.  I guess all homes do, and even though this one had been completely remodeled, it was still an older home.  I guess that’s why my little sister woke up in the middle of the night and started screaming for my parents.  I went in to see what was wrong, just in case my parents hadn’t heard her, and was surprised when she accused me of coming into her room earlier. 

“I saw Hunter in my room and he was making noises trying to scare me,” she kept insisting, as she flashed me disgusted and hateful looks. 

“I didn’t come in here, I swear,” I countered.  “I never left my room until I heard her screaming for you guys.”  

Fortunately, my parents believed me and did their best to calm Savannah down. 

“Savannah, you probably just had a bad dream and thought you saw Hunter in here, so go back to sleep and I promise you everything will be ok,” my mother offered, soothingly. 

“Don’t come in my room again!” Savannah shouted, directing her comment at me. 

After I assured her I wouldn’t leave my bedroom, things calmed down and we all went back to sleep.  That was until Savannah started yelling again, right at sunrise.  We all rushed to her room again and she was trembling and crying. 

“What’s the matter, honey?” my mom asked, as she caressed my sister and attempted to calm her down. 

“When I woke up, there was a boy in my room, but it wasn’t Hunter,” she sobbed.  “He was walking around, but I couldn’t find him again after I called for you.” 

She was visibly shaken and it was obvious she believed what she was saying, so we all attempted to allay her fears.  While mom stayed with her, Dad, Ryder and I all searched the house for this intruder.  Dad went to look around the downstairs, while Ryder followed behind me, as we checked out every nook and cranny on the second floor.  None of us discovered anyone or found any signs that an intruder had come inside, so we concluded that Savannah had just awakened from another nightmare. 

This happened a couple more times during the following week, but we all assumed Savannah was just having difficulty adjusting to our new home, which in turn was causing her to have these bad dreams.  That was until things started to disappear.  At first it was some of Ryder’s things, but then some of my stuff went missing too.  There were also a couple of times when my mom or dad couldn’t find their car keys or other items, but they figured they had just misplaced them, because most of the stuff turned up again later.  Even though their keys were found in really strange locations, my parents figured they had just been distracted and absent-mindedly left them there.  It was either that or one of us kids were playing a prank on them. 

After a couple of weeks of this, Ryder confided in me that he thought he had seen someone else in the house, but every time he went to see who was there, he never found anyone.  The following week, I thought I began seeing someone lurking about too, but I couldn’t discover an intruder or visitor anywhere.  I finally decided that Ryder’s suggestion had just thrown my imagination into overdrive and I began hallucinating these sightings.  Although Ryder had also mentioned this to our parents, I never did, because I figured it was just my imagination – that was until I heard my parents talking about having seen shadows moving throughout the house.  Could it really be that this old house was haunted? 

Although my parents didn’t believe in ghosts or paranormal events, I was open to the possibility that there were things in this world that couldn’t be explained by normal means.  I had seen enough television programs that pointed out strange events that seemed unexplainable, so I felt there might be something to this idea.  Even though I didn’t want to spook my sister or brother, I considered there might be something supernatural going on here. 

As we got settled in, I started investigating the rest of our property, because I wanted to see how much we really owned.  I quickly discovered the land went quite a long way back behind the house and there was a pretty sturdy old barn about fifty yards (approx. 46 meters) from the backdoor.  I had just finished a cursory inspection of the barn and was getting ready to check out the area behind it when I met one of the neighbors.  I guess he had seen me out looking around and thought he’d come over and introduce himself. 

“Hi, I’m Jacob and I live over there,” he said, while pointing at the house about 100 yards (about 91.5 m) to the right of our place.  “Did you just move in here?” 

“Yeah, my dad took a new job in Baltimore, so we moved here from Texas,” I responded.  “I’m Hunter and I’m glad to meet you.” 

“Same here,” he agreed.  “You look like you’re about my age, so are you going to be in ninth grade too?” 

“No, actually I’m going to be a sophomore,” I answered, which caused Jacob’s face to contort into an odd expression.  “I know I look younger than that, but I’m actually 15.” 

“Oh, it wasn’t that,” Jacob quickly added.  “I was just wondering if you’d mind hanging out with someone a year younger.” 

“Not at all,” I quickly replied.  “It’s better than hanging out with my six-year old sister or eleven-year old brother.” 

“That’s good, because I don’t have any brothers and sisters, so it gets kinda lonely for me, especially when we don’t have school,” he countered. 

“Aren’t there any other kids around here?” I challenged, while staring at him intently. 

“Not our age, except for the asshole that lives a couple houses down from you, on the other side of your place,” he spat out. 

“I take it you don’t get along with him?” I countered, which was mostly a reflexive reaction. 

“Nah, he’s a real bastard,” Jacob answered.  “He’s a couple of years older than me and he’s out to destroy every guy that’s not like him.  He says he’s going to get rid of all the fags around here, so his friends call him the ‘Faginator.’  I’ll point him out to you the next time I see him when we’re together, so you’ll know who to stay away from.”

“Fuck, that guy sounds like a real dickhead,” I muttered, absent-mindedly. 

“He is and his father is just as bad,” Jacob confirmed.  “I guess that’s where Dirk gets it from.  That’s his name, Dirk, but I call him Dirk the jerk, just not to his face.”

“That probably a smart move,” I agreed. 

“I can’t believe someone’s finally moved into this place,” Jacob added.  “It’s been empty for as long as I’ve been alive, at least until they began fixing it up.  That was the first time I ever saw anyone going in and out of there.” 

“Yeah, my dad said it had been abandoned for a while,” I chipped in. 

“Yep.  After that kid was killed, no one ever lived there for very long,” Jacob explained.  “Most people around here say the place is haunted, so that’s why I was surprised when your family moved in.” 

“Wait!  You said people think our house is haunted?” I gasped, as I thought about many of the unexplained events we had already witnessed. 

“Yep.  My dad says no one ever lived there for more than just a few months before they got scared and moved out,” Jacob replied.  “I heard him tell my mom and some other people about it and he claimed that a couple of those families even moved out in the middle of the night.  He said they only came back long enough to get their things, but they made sure to do it in the daylight.” 

“So what happened to the boy?  How did he die” I wondered, since I wanted to find out what my family might be up against. 

“I guess it happened back in the 1980s.  I was told that he was around our age and was living in the same house you’re in now,” Jacob offered.  “I don’t know if he was killed in the house or not, because they never found out who did it or why.  They didn’t even find his body right away and it was a few days before it was discovered.” 

“Where did they find it?” I gasped. 

“It was in the old well that was about halfway between your house and the barn,” Jacob explained.  “It was filled in after that, but at one time I guess there was an old, open well there.  You know the kind with a round stone base.  I guess it also had a wooden roof with a crank attached to it, which they used to raise and lower a bucket on a rope so they could haul the water up.” 

“Maybe he just fell in,” I retorted, since I preferred to think the boy had died in an accident, rather than having been murdered. 

“Nah, he was killed,” Jacob stated, matter-of-factly.  “My dad said that when he went missing everyone in the town started searching for him, but they never found anything.  Then a few days later, his father spotted his son’s body in the well.  When they pulled it up, the coroner said it looked like he had been badly beaten before he ended up there, because he had all kinds of injuries and his skull had been crushed.” 

“That could have happened if he just fell down the well,” I pointed out. 

“Nah, my dad says the coroner told them there wouldn’t have been so much damage if he’d just fallen in,” Jacob countered.  “He said the boy appeared to have been beaten and then hit in the head with something, because it was that blow that crushed his skull and killed him.” 

His last comments certainly dashed my hopes that the boy had died in an accident.  If he had suffered a violent death such as Jacob had just explained, then maybe part of him was still hanging around.  If so, I needed to learn more about the other people that had lived here afterward. 

“So how many people lived in the house after that happened and why did they say they were leaving?” I pressed, looking for answers. 

“My dad says that once the boy’s family moved out, because they couldn’t stand living there knowing it was where their son had been killed, they rented the place out,” Jacob replied.  “My dad told me there were about half a dozen other families after that, but none of them ever stuck around for a whole year.  They all said that strange things kept happening in the house and that they even saw a shadowy figure moving around at different times.  They also said there were too many strange things that kept happening for it all to just be accidents or coincidence.  They even thought that whatever was there was trying to hurt them.” 

“Fuck!  This is unbelievable!” I exclaimed.  “My sister said she saw a boy in her room the night we moved in and thought it was me.  Then me and my brother both thought we saw someone in the house at different times, but we never could find anyone.  This is getting really creepy.” 

“Damn, I always hoped everyone was wrong about your place, but if you’re seeing things too, then maybe it’s real.” Jacob reasoned.  “The house has been abandoned for about twenty years, so if it’s still happening, then the stories must be true.” 

I talked to Jacob for a while longer and got to know him a little better, but I was pretty shaken up by what he’d told me.  That night, I took mom and dad aside and filled them in about what I had learned, but my father was still unconvinced. 

“Hunter, I think nearly every community has at least one place they claim is haunted, but it’s mostly because the stories have been embellished and other facts fabricated,” he tried to assure me, although I wasn’t buying it.  “I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for everything that has happened, so don’t go blowing this out of proportion.” 

I promised I wouldn’t and also agreed not tell Savannah or Ryder about any of this, but I wasn’t convinced that Dad believed everything he had just told me either.  I sensed he might be having his own doubts, but I knew he wasn’t about to admit it, at least not to me. 

Things went about the same for the next few weeks, but then the situation began to escalate.  It all started when the entire family was sitting in the family room one night, watching TV.  The only light on in the room was a lamp, since we wanted to avoid the glare on the television screen. 

“Hey, quit poking me!” Ryder called out, sounding annoyed. 

“Who’s poking you?” Dad asked confused. 

It was because Savannah was sitting on the couch between mom and him and I was in a chair on the opposite side of the room from Ryder. 

“I thought Hunter had snuck over here and was doing it,” Ryder admitted, but he now looked shocked and embarrassed when he saw that I had never left my chair. 

“Are you sure your body wasn’t just rubbing against the chair awkwardly and it only felt as if someone was poking you?” Dad followed, in an attempt to put this behind us. 

“I don’t think the chair could poke me like that or reach over my shoulder and poke me in the chest,” Ryder reasoned. 

“Well there’s no one near you, so I’m not sure what you felt,” Dad responded, while looking at him puzzled. 

Ryder looked perturbed that my dad didn’t seem to believe him, so he slunk down in his chair and continued to watch the program.  A few minutes later, it was Dad’s voice that garnered our attention. 

“Very funny, Ryder, but you’re not going to convince me something poked you by playing tricks on me,” he commented, but then abruptly stopped when he saw Ryder looking at him from his chair.  Then, he quickly looked over at me. 

“What’s up, Dad?  What are you talking about?” I asked. 

“I could have sworn I felt someone slap the back of my head, so I thought Ryder was doing it because I’d downplayed what he was saying,” Dad answered.  “Now I’m confused, since none of you seem to have moved from your chairs.” 

We were just starting to watch the television program again when Dad jumped up and turned to face the back of the sofa.  This caused the rest of us to stare at him. 

“What’s wrong, dear?” Mom asked, concerned. 

“It happened again,” Dad announced.  “Something just slapped the back of my head and it obviously wasn’t any of you.” 

At that point, we all got up and began running around the room looking for the culprit, but of course we never discovered anyone there.  After several minutes of this futile effort, we all sat down again.  I never brought up the possibility of a ghost or the idea that the house might be haunted, because I didn’t want to upset Ryder or Savannah, but it was still in the back of my mind.  I think the same thought had also occurred to Mom and Dad, along with my little brother. 

Chapter 2

Over the course of the summer, Jacob and I became fairly close.  It turned out we had a lot in common, including that both of us were gay.  That discovery came about purely by accident one day, after our neighbor, the ‘Faginator,’ passed by.  He seemed to take great pleasure in shouting out some really rude comments at Jacob before he disappeared.  Once he was gone, Jacob broke down and began shaking, because I guess this happened on a fairly regular basis.  A couple of tears even escaped down his cheek, as he began muttering to himself. 

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” he gasped.  “I can’t help it if I’m gay.” 

Once he realized what he had just said, he turned and looked at me, with an expression of shock and horror etched upon his face.  He couldn’t believe what he had just done, when he accidentally outted himself. 

I didn’t immediately respond, since I didn’t know if I was ready to come out to him just yet, which made him begin to question the reason for my hesitation.  Eventually, he decided to ask me, point blank. 

“You don’t hate me now, do you?” he wondered.  “I’m still the same guy you’ve been hanging out with and having fun.  It’s just that I like boys instead of girls.” 

After he was brave enough to admit this, I found the courage to reciprocate. 

“Me too,” I admitted.  “That’s one of the reasons I hated my old school, because no one there wouldn’t accept me for who I was either.” 

I then went on to tell him about the awful things I had endured where we used to live.  I told him that even though I’d never done anything with another boy and the others had no justification for their actions, they had judged me solely on my appearance and other attributes.  He quickly admitted that he’d never done anything with another boy either and said Dirk had pretty much done the same thing to him as well.  He said other than ‘Dirk the Jerk’ and his handful of friends, the rest of the school wasn’t like that.  It was just worse for him, and probably would spill over to me too, since Dirk lived just down the street from us.  I commiserated with him and assured him we’d stick together and protect one another. 

Jacob was thrilled by my admission and that I promised to stick by him, but then he began to wonder how this was going to work, since we were in different grades.  After I pointed out the fact that Dirk and his friends were in an altogether different grade too, since they were all a year older than me, he didn’t seem to worry as much.  The only thing that still concerned him was the fact that the three of us would be riding the same bus every day.  I told him we’d sit together, near the front of the bus, after he told me none of Dirk’s friends rode the same bus.   

After that had been settled, we spent nearly all of our time together until school started.  Although Jacob was willing to come over to my house during the day, he refused my invitation to stay overnight.  I guess I can’t blame him, since I might have done the same thing, if our roles had been reversed. 

During that same time, things began to escalate with the ghost and the incidents began to grow even more severe.  Suddenly, we found ourselves being pushed and tripped, which for the most part was just annoying, unless it happened when we were at the top of the stairs.  My mom and dad were worried that one of us was eventually going to get hurt, possibly seriously, and I had to agree with them. 

Things remained at that level when school finally started, which meant we’d now be gone most of the day.  That first morning, I waited outside for the bus to arrive and before long it appeared and stopped for me. 

“Hi, you must be new,” the bus driver greeted me.  “I’m Miss Shirley and I’ll be handling this route this year.” 

“Nice to meet you, Miss Shirley,” I offered in return.  “I’m Hunter, Hunter Benjamin, and my family moved here at the start of the summer.” 

“Nice to meet you, honey,” she added.  “Now take your seat and we’ll pick up your neighbor.” 

I plopped down in the first empty seat I came to and soon the bus was stopping in front of Jacob’s house.  He hopped on, walked down the aisle and slid in beside me. 

“Hi, Hunter,” he began.  “Are things going alright for you this morning?” 

“Yep, it’s been smooth sailing so far,” I replied, but our playful banter soon came to a sudden end. 

“Hey, Jacob the fag has a new faggy friend,” a voice loudly announced. 

Both of us immediately knew who it was without having to turn around.  It was ‘Dirk the jerk,’ as Jacob liked to refer to him, otherwise known as our ‘asshole neighbor.’  It seemed as if he just couldn’t resist the opportunity to make the start of the school year miserable for us.  We didn’t say a word and chose to ignore him, but he wasn’t about to let it go that easily. 

“I guess you two must be boyfriends now,” Dirk reasoned, “since I’ve seen you together so many times over the summer.  The new fag moved into the old Dauberman place,” he told the others, in case they hadn’t noticed.  “I just want to know if your house is really haunted, like everyone says?” 

I didn’t bother to respond to his question, which seemed to piss Dirk off. 

“Hey, dickhead, I asked you a question,” he snorted. 

“If you want to speak to me without the name calling, then I might answer you,” I finally responded, “but I don’t respond to insults or threats.” 

“You’ll answer me or I’ll fuckin’ make you sorry you ever moved here,” he threatened. 

“You’re already having that effect on me,” I stated, tongue in cheek.  “I didn’t mind this place until I ran across you.” 

“Listen up, smart ass,” he continued.  “You’d better stop fuckin’ with me or I’ll kick the shit out of you.” 

“You’ll probably try to do that anyway, no matter what I say or do,” I stated, knowing it would piss him off even more.  “I just promised my parents that I wouldn’t talk to anyone whose age is greater than their I.Q.” 

I probably shouldn’t have said that, but he just annoyed the hell out of me and I wanted to get back at him.  I heard a few gasps and some tittering after I made that comment, so I knew the others had heard and understood my meaning. 

“What’s that suppose to mean, fuckhead?” Dirk followed, so he obviously didn’t comprehend the slur.  Maybe someone else would explain it to him later. 

“As I said before, I don’t respond to threats or someone trying to act like a cartoon ogre,” I reiterated. 

I think he was ready to come up and pound the shit out of me at that point, but we had reached the school and everyone stood up to get off the bus.  That put several people between us, so I hurriedly followed Jacob inside, so he could show me where to go.  I had to check in at the guidance office first, since my parents had enrolled me the week before, and one of the counselors welcomed me, before handing me my schedule.  After that, Jacob showed me where my homeroom was and told me that he’d meet me at the front entrance when it was time to go home, if we didn’t run across each other before then.  That sounded fine to me, so I went inside the classroom and sat down. 

The day went by quickly and during that time several people introduced themselves to me, so they were obviously more open and accepting than my last school.  I happened to run into Jacob at lunch, since we had it the same period, so we agreed to meet and eat together every day.  Luckily, it seemed that Dirk didn’t eat at the same time, so we didn’t have him to worry about, although we did discuss what we thought the ride home was going to be like. 

When the final bell rang, I hurried to the front entrance to meet Jacob and then we rushed out to get on the bus, so we could get a seat close to Miss Shirley.  We figured Dirk would be less likely to bother us there, because she would be able to see what was going on and could use the radio to call the bus garage for assistance.  Surprisingly, he didn’t even get on the bus for the ride home and we had no idea why he wasn’t there.  Jacob said he didn’t think Dirk played any sports, so either he got in trouble and had to stay after or he went off somewhere with one or more of his friends.  Either way, we benefited from his absence. 

We each got off the bus at our own place, but then met up again after we’d changed our clothes.  We decided to hang out in the old barn after that, so Dirk wouldn’t see us if he passed by.  I think we both had the feeling we weren’t alone in there, which made us slightly uneasy, but that was better than being out where Dirk could spot us.  We felt he might be out to get us by now, since I had talked back and insulted him this morning. 

While we were in the barn, we talked about Dirk, what it was like being gay and how we had both felt totally alone before my family moved here.  We also agreed that we were both thankful that my dad had taken this new job.  This caused the afternoon to fly by really quickly and I didn’t even hear Dad’s car pull in the driveway, but I did hear my mom calling me in for dinner. 

“Hey, I’ve got to go eat now, but we’ll do this again tomorrow, if you want,” I assured Jacob. 

He agreed that would be fine and we both headed off to our homes.  I sat down with the family to eat and then went upstairs to do my homework afterward, which was basically just reading the first chapter of each textbook.  I had the strangest feeling all night long, because it felt as if someone or something was watching me, but as far as I could see, I was totally alone.  It was a really eerie feeling, but I attempted to put it out of my mind and didn’t pay attention to it, as I finished my required reading. 

I noticed it was getting late by the time I’d finished, so I decided to go to bed early.  It had been a long day and I was really tired, so I went downstairs to say goodnight to my parents first, before I turned in.  Savannah and Ryder were already in bed, so it was just the three of us.  They used the opportunity to ask me for more details about my first day at my new school, so I quickly told them what they wanted to know and then headed back upstairs.  After going through my nightly preparations, I jumped into bed and quickly fell asleep. 

Sometime during the night, I started to have this really strange dream.  I wasn’t actually part of it, just sort of an outside observer, but I could see a strange boy and he was living in my house.  The thing was, it was the same on the outside, but the inside was completely different.  The interior was really old fashioned and not nearly as nice as it was now, but the boy wasn’t dressed in old-fashioned clothes.  He had on a t-shirt and jeans, and they were somewhat modern looking.  Those two things just did not seem to fit together in my mind. 

That’s when the boy heard a car horn honking out in front, so he raced outside to greet the person.  The driver was in a big, older model car, maybe from the 1960s, and it looked like a squat tank.  The boy rushed over to the driver’s door and spoke. 

“Hi, I’m glad you made it,” he began.  “Do you want to come inside?” 

“Nah, I don’t really want to run into your folks,” the other boy stated. 

“But they’re not home yet,” the first boy pointed out. 

“But they might get here before I leave, so isn’t there someplace else we can hang out,” the other boy stated.  “How about if we go back to the barn behind your house?” 

“Yeah, I guess we could do that,” the first boy said, as he turned around to lead the other boy out there. 

The second boy seemed to be keeping his distance as they made their way to the barn, but the first boy kept talking to him, nonetheless. 

“I’m so glad you asked me earlier if you could come over,” said the first boy.  “I didn’t know you were like me, until you told me that.  I thought I was the only one around here.” 

The other boy just let out sort of a snort after the first boy said this, but it didn’t appear as if the first boy had heard his ‘reply,’ if that’s what you could call it.  Instead, the first boy kept chatting away, until a couple of other boys popped out from inside the barn. 

“Hey!  What were you doing in there?” the first boy yelled, while looking at the three in front of him.   “What’s going on?”

“Did you really think I was a queer like you,” the boy behind him scoffed.  “I ain’t no fuckin’ homo!  Me and my friends are here to show you what we do to freaks and perverts.” 

After hearing this, the first boy tried to turn and run, but the other boy blocked his path and held him until the others could reach their location.  After two of the others came charging up from behind, they grabbed the first boy and held him in place, while the driver of the car began punching him, first in the gut and then in the face.  After working him over like this for a few minutes, the other two released the boy, thinking he was too injured to fight back now, but they were wrong.  

Unbelievably, the boy summoned what strength he had left and punched one of the boys that had been holding him squarely in the nuts.  After doing that, he spun toward the other side and did the same thing to the other boy.  Then, he staggered to his feet and attacked the boy that had been hitting him.  He got in a few good licks before the fourth boy came charging up from behind and clobbered him with a 2x4.  He had picked it up just outside of the barn and then used it as a weapon.  There was a sickening, dull thud when he did this and then the first boy dropped to the ground. 

After the other three had recovered from the punches the boy had given them, they went to confront him again.  After kicking him a few times in retribution, one of them suddenly spoke up. 

“He’s not moving and doesn’t seem to be breathing either,” he stated.  “I think he’s dead.” 

They quickly checked him over and, sure enough, that seemed to be the case.  They all looked incredibly shocked and began to panic, before the driver of the car spoke again. 

“We’ve got to hide his body,” he muttered, while looking around.  “Do you see any place we can put him, where he won’t be discovered quickly?” 

“How about that old well?” one of the others asked.  “I don’t think they use it much any more, so why don’t we throw him in there?” 

“Yeah, I suppose it’s as good a place as any,” the driver agreed, “but let’s do it fast, before somebody sees us.” 

The four of them each grabbed an arm or leg and carried the body over to the old, stone well.  Then, they unceremoniously dropped it down the opening and listened to the splash, as it hit the water.  Just as soon as that happened, they all raced to the driver’s car, hopped inside and then sped off down the road. 

After witnessing that horrible scene, I awoke in a cold sweat, panting and completely terrified by what I had just witnessed during my nocturnal visions.  I couldn’t be certain about it, but I had a feeling I had just witnessed what had happened to the boy that was now haunting our home.  Apparently, he had been gay too and those other boys had planned to beat it out of him, while teaching him the error of his way.  Obviously, they went too far, but I doubt any of them shed a tear over what they’d done.  That was probably because they were never caught, because I’m sure that spending time in a jail or prison might have elicited some remorseful tears.  Since they got away Scott free; however, that never happened.  Ironically, the term ‘Scott free’ originated with the Dred Scott case, when he gained his freedom from slavery. 

Having seen what had happened to him shook me to the core and made me realize it could have just as easily been me, if I had lived here at the time.  It was a startling realization of how far some people would go when unleashing the hatred their bigotry caused them.  In most cases, it was an unreasonable and unfounded hatred, since no one had ever approached or done anything to the person involved.  It was, however, a hatred fueled by other people’s comments, along with the belief that being gay was wrong and that the person had made a conscious choice to be this way.  The only way to counter such ignorance and hatred was through education, but doing that, unfortunately, takes a very long time. 

When I went down to breakfast later, everyone immediately noticed something was bothering me, but I didn’t want to discuss it in front of Savannah and Ryder.  Instead, I told my parents that I’d tell them about it later and then went upstairs to get ready for school. 

Jacob sat next to me as usual and I had been lucky enough to find an open seat close to the front of the bus again.  Dirk was sitting in a seat about halfway back and shouted out to us, just after Jacob joined me. 

“Hey, dickhead,” he snarled, “you’re going to pay for that comment you made about me yesterday.  I’m not saying when it’s going to happen, but you’re going to be really sorry that you ever fucked with me.” 

Obviously, he had found someone with enough intelligence to interpret the meaning of my verbal slight.  I could only imagine what he was going to do, but I actually began to feel that making the comment had been worth any future pain it might cause me.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll be lucky and able to avoid him long enough for him to forget about it.  Since he wasn’t very bright, I was hoping he had a poor memory too. 

I didn’t see Dirk at all that day and he wasn’t on the bus again that night.  I’m not sure why he only seemed to ride it in the morning, but it didn’t really matter.  Jacob and I were both thrilled that he wasn’t on the bus for the ride home and prayed that maybe he would stop riding it in the morning too. 

Once we got home, we changed quickly and went out to the barn again, where we stayed until we heard a car pull up later.  Even though I thought it was a little early for my dad to get home, I concluded that maybe something was wrong.  After a brief discussion, I urged Jacob to join me, as we went out to see what was up.  Just as soon as we walked out of the main entrance to the barn, four individuals roughly accosted Jacob and me.  One of them grabbed Jacob by the arms and held them behind his back, while two others grabbed me by the arms, one on each side, and held me in place.  That’s when I saw Dirk approaching. 

“I saw you two fags come out here yesterday, so I figured I’d find you here again today,” he hissed.  “I told you that I was going to make you pay for yesterday and your bill has come due.  Now, I’m here to collect.” 

I think he felt smart making this comment, but the part about the bill coming due and he was here to collect sounded rehearsed.  I was certain one of the others had given him that line and he had practiced saying it to himself until he had gotten it to sound the way he wanted.  I couldn’t think about that any longer, however, because he was right in my face. 

“I guess you must be afraid to face me alone,” I scoffed, “since you had to bring your friends to help you.” 

“I ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ fag!” he hissed, as he delivered a blow to my gut. 

I doubled over in pain, because he had not only punched me, but he had also knocked the air out of my lungs.  As he got ready to deliver a second punch, a hollow, disembodied voice shouted out. 

“Not again,” it said, just before Dirk’s hands shot up to his neck. 

The rest of us watched in horror, as Dirk seemed to be fighting with himself or an invisible foe.  He was clawing at his neck, as if he was being strangled, and this went on for a couple of minutes, until his body fell limply to the ground.  I think we all wondered if he was dead, but then we saw the slight movement of his chest rising and falling, which proved he was still alive.  It seemed that whatever had just happened, it had only rendered him unconscious. 

After that happened, Dirk’s three friends released Jacob and me, possibly because they were afraid that this unseen assailant would attack them next.  Once we were free, they slowly made their way over to check on Dirk.  After a couple of minutes, he began to cough and sputter, as he sat up and began to rub his neck. 

“What the hell just happened?” one of his friends blurted out. 

“Someone grabbed me from behind and started choking me,” Dirk gasped out, in a hoarse voice.  “Didn’t you see who it was?” 

“There was no one there,” one of the others answered.  “You seemed to be fighting with yourself.” 

Dirk looked bewildered and began glancing around, as if he thought he would discover the individual the others hadn’t noticed.  Still, no one else was there.  Turning back to me, Dirk spoke again. 

“Let’s get this over with, so we can get the hell out of here,” Dirk stated, addressing his friends, as he started toward me again. 

His friends hesitated briefly, before they moved to assist him, when the voice spoke again.

“Leave him alone,” it demanded, as a rock came flying at Dirk’s head. 

“Who the fuck is doing this shit?” Dirk yelled, after the rock grazed his scalp. 

“There’s no one else around,” one of his friends observed.  “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m getting the fuck out of here.” 

He suddenly began hightailing it toward the car and soon the other two were in hot pursuit.  Dirk was the only one that remained, other than Jacob or me. 

“I don’t know why they’re so fuckin’ scared, because it seems to be me it’s after, not them,” Dirk scoffed. 

“It’s only after you, because you were trying to hurt us,” I pointed out.  “If it’s the ghost of the boy that was killed here, he’s only reacting because what you were trying to do was the same sort of thing that was done to him when he was killed.” 

“How the fuck would you know that?” Dirk spat back. 

“Because I saw it in a dream,” I answered.  “I don’t know if the boy somehow made me have the dream, but I saw him getting beat up by three other boys and then clubbed from behind with a piece of wood.  That’s what killed him.” 

The blood drained from Dirk’s face after I said this, but I had no idea why.  If the rest of what had happened hadn’t scared him, then why would this?  Whatever the reason, he took off and met up with his friends at the car and they soon disappeared down the road.  I wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, but Jacob and I talked it over for a few more minutes, before we returned to our homes. 

Nothing more occurred over the next couple of days, but then it seemed as if all hell started breaking loose.  I guess that as they were driving away from my house, Dirk filled his friends in about what I had told him.  Then, they tried to figure out if a ghost had actually attacked Dirk.  A few days later, one of those boys must have said something to his dad about the strange events of that afternoon, so the following day his father went to the police.  The odd thing was, it didn’t have anything to do with me. 

It seems the boy’s father had been one of the four boys involved when the boy who’d lived in our house had been killed.  Even though it probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise, he told the cops it had been Dirk’s father who had arranged what had happened that day and the one who was beating the boy.  The boy that had clubbed the other boy from behind with the 2x4 had actually been killed in a car accident a few months after the incident had taken place and this guy had also been in the car with him at the time. 

Even though he hadn’t been killed, he claimed the other boy had merely swerved because he saw another boy in the road.  When he did that, he lost control of the car and it ended up slamming into a tree.  The steering wheel was driven back into his chest and killed him instantly.  Only now would this guy admit that what they had seen in the road that night had been the ghost of the dead boy and this latest incident had pointed out that his spirit was still roaming about.  Since he didn’t want it to come after his son to get revenge, since it had just attacked Dirk, he decided it was time to confess. 

As soon as the boy’s father gave his statement, he and Dirk’s father were arrested and charged with murder.  The fourth individual had moved away a long time ago, so the police started an investigation to track him down.  In the meantime, the boy’s father pled guilty to the charges and accepted a lesser sentence of fifteen to twenty years in prison in return, but Dirk’s father decided to fight the charges and go to trial.  Since he was denied bail and didn’t want to sit around in jail for very long, he agreed to a speedy trial date and rejected his lawyer’s attempts to delay the proceeding. 

According to his wishes, he was offered a trial date very quickly.  Not only was it speedy, but it was also very short, since the trial only lasted two days.  After the other boy’s father testified, several of their former classmates volunteered to come forward and testify about how Dirk’s father had acted in high school and revealed some of the other things he had done during that time.  Once the jury was given their charge from the judge, it took them less than an hour to come to an agreement and reach a verdict.  Dirk’s father was found guilty on both counts.  His sentencing occurred on Halloween day and that’s when he learned he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison for aggravated assault and murder.  I guess that could possibly be considered the ultimate trick-or-treat. 

Once the sentence was rendered and he had been taken away to spend the rest of his life locked up in a small cell, our ghost seemed to disappear almost immediately.  We never saw or experienced anything paranormal or supernatural after that time, so I felt the boy’s spirit had finally gotten its revenge and could now rest in peace.  I sincerely pray he is now able to enjoy the happiness, acceptance and sense of well-being that he had been denied in life. 

THE END. 

Posted: 10/31/13