Forgetting What's Forgiven

By Josiah Collins

The sharp stinging pain of branches whipping across my body
makes me cringe in pain as I run through the woods. Chase
is just ahead of me; I can hear him, but I cant see him. The
icy-cold chill of the night air causes my skin to crawl, but I barely
even notice as I carry Jenna in my arms. She doesnt look like the
girl I know; she looks like someone fi ghting for her life.
Weve been running for miles, it seems like. I dont know why I
didnt stop Chase earlier. But I think were heading in the wrong
direction. Chase! Stop! I scream at the top of my lungs. I hear
him stop off in the distance. As I start to walk toward where I think
he is, I come into a small meadow in the middle of the woods, and
there I see him sitting on the trunk of an old dead tree. I think
were lost. He looks back down at the almost-black ground. There
are no markers, no signs, nothing,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483658254

Josiah Collins

author bio coming soon

Book preview

Chapter One

I can’t believe it; I never would have thought, in a million years, that I would be sitting here outside the superintendent’s office. And it’s all just because I beat my teacher and probably broke his nose. Okay, I know that it’s a bit of a big deal, but he deserved it. He makes me so mad sometimes; but when he made fun of Kate, he crossed the line. I know she is slow and all—okay, maybe even retarded—but I never want to hear him say crap like that about her again. Today just seems like an off day for me. For starters, my dumb alarm clock forgot to wake me up; then, I poured orange juice in my Capncrunch, thinking it was the milk carton, and almost threw my guts up. Now I’m sitting outside the principal’s office, awaiting my eternal punishment (probably detention or, hopefully, I’ll just have to apologize). How could it get any better than this?

I can see my parents talking to the school board through a small window in the right-hand corner of the metal door. Mom keeps leaning on Jeff, and it looks like she’s trying to tell him something, but he just ignores her. I hate putting her through all this.

I look up at the clock; it reads twelve fifteen. It’s been thirty minutes, and there’s still no sign of them coming out anytime soon. I’m so screwed, I know it. I’ll probably be put in detention for the rest of the year, and the only thing I’ll be doing is staring at a blank wall from eight to three. Then, probably to sweeten the deal, Mom will throw in some good afternoon counseling sessions. I wonder what they are planning on doing with me. They can’t send me to jail; this is only my first offense. I only punched a guy; I didn’t actually kill him!

To make the time go by, I try counting to one hundred in Spanish. I can only get up to twenty-seven. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my mind wrapped off the subject jail! I hate the word. It makes me cringe just thinking about it. I’ve heard stories of a juvenile correctional center. Just thinking of those stories makes me sick.

Finally, the door opens. A police officer dressed in a light-blue uniform steps out, looks at me, and then looks at the ground. Right behind him, I see Mom bawling. I’m not sure why she is crying, but I hope it is tears of joy because her son is not getting arrested right now. In my head, I keep saying, I take it back! I take it back. Oh, dear God, I take it back. I didn’t mean to punch my teacher. I can’t go to jail. Jail is the place where people get gang-raped. And if you drop the soap, you’re screwed—literally screwed! From behind him, I see a lady. She is dressed up in a real pinup type of outfit. She seems like a real… well, you know what I mean. She just stands there; then out of nowhere, she gives me this long, hard look.

I need you to come with me, Luke. Damn… I’m in so much crap right now. I thought that they would just slap me on the hand, and that would be that.

I need you to come with me, sir. Then she sighs and rolls her eyes toward the door. Please do not resist, or I will be forced to take a different course of action. As soon as she says that, it starts a chain reaction in me, and I start to go numb. I desperately try to hide my trembling fingers in my pockets. I look over at Mom, and she is just nodding her head. I’m not sure what she is trying to tell me. But I definitely do not want to break the awkward silence to ask her. So I get up from my chair; I practically have to pry my trembling hands off it. I take a gulp. I feel like there is a big lump stuck in my throat; it’s stuck so bad that I can’t even ask her where I’m going. So I figured that I’d save myself the trouble and just go with her.

As I start to leave the room, I notice the officer is right behind me. It’s like I’m a convict and I’m going to try to escape and kill another innocent person. There’s one thing I’ve learned in my miserable life, and it’s that nobody’s innocent—nobody!

The only thing that keeps going through my head is how I’m going to get out of it this time. While we’re walking, I try not to look at anyone. I just crank my head down and look at the floor.

By the time we’re done walking, we’ve arrived at a big black door: Reading School Staff Only. We walk into the room except for the officer; he stands outside the door. I didn’t notice this before, but he looks really stout, like he could knock my head off. At first glance, I see nothing, but at second glance, I see a table and a few chairs scattered around here and there. So I choose one, pull it out, and sit down. I slump real low to show her I don’t care what she’s talking about or going to say. She then proceeds to pull out a pen and a piece of paper, sits down beside me, and just waits there for a moment. It’s like she’s waiting for me to give in and spill my guts. But boy, does she have me wrong.

Okay, I guess I’ll have to break the ice. So I’m Tina, your social worker. I was appointed to you this afternoon. I just need to ask you a few questions, and then we will go from there.

Wait, she didn’t say anything about home.

Luke, I really need you to cooperate with me, please.

I don’t want to tell her about my family life. My family life sucks; it always has, and it’s as simple as that. But if I don’t say anything, this whole ordeal will get a lot worse, so I whisper under my breath, So… um… What do you want me to say? I try not to look conspicuous.

For starters, you can tell me what your family life is like at home. And don’t play me for a fool.

It’s good, I lie.

So you’re telling me there is absolutely nothing going on at your home that would… encourage this type of behavior?

No! I lie again. I quickly roll my eyes. I’m tired of these stupid questions. Do you have any real questions you need to ask me? Or are you just gonna beat around the damn bush?

Okay, Luke, try this one out. Why did you hit your teacher?

He…

What? she says, growing with agitation.

He made fun of my sister. I told him to back off, but he kept on going on and on. And finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I punched him! There, are you happy now?

Finally, we are getting somewhere.

Do you have any more questions you’d like to ask?

No, that will be all for now.

For now! I hope that doesn’t mean I’m going to be seeing more of you again.

For starters, Luke, you’re an ass, and yes, I can say that. And guess what? You will be seeing more of me in the near future.

As she gets up to leave, she hesitates for a moment, as if forgetting something, then leans over my right shoulder and whispers, Oh, I forgot to tell you. The school and I worked out an agreement, and you’re going to have your license suspended for the next six months. That or jail. Take your pick. Have a nice one.

I hate her! As she walks out the door, the police officer steps into the room and gives me a look as if saying, Come with me or die.

I leave the room with the officer right at my heels; he’s so close, I can almost feel him breathing down my neck. It honestly feels like he is watching my every move. As we walk up the hallway and past the rows of windows cut out of every door, the people inside all look directly at me. I really don’t feel that bad right now. I just feel different but yet still in a bad kinda way.

You’ve got a lot to learn, kid, the officer says. Life sucks sometimes—literally just sucks. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.

I know life sucks, but why does it have to suck for me? Why’s it I always feel like I’m the one who always gets the short end of the stick?

I don’t know, kid… I really don’t know, he says.

For what it’s worth, Mr. Officer? Sir? I’m sorry.

Don’t be, kid. It’s people like you who make my job exciting. A faint smile rises and arches from cheek to cheek.

Once we get to the car, I see Jeff, but Mom’s not with him. She’s probably driving my car home; after all, I’m having my license revoked for six months.

As I slide into the passenger seat of the car, the officer slaps on the window and says, Take care of him, all right?

Just as I start to buckle myself in, I catch a small hint of whiskey on Jeff’s breath. Jeff’s an alcoholic—has been for years. Sometimes when he gets drunk, he’ll get in a fight with Mom, and she always gets slapped.

We get down the road a ways, and then he tries to clear his throat. Although I’m not looking at him, I can sense him looking at me. He’s like a damn vulture; he smells like one too. But what do I expect? He gets drunk after work almost every day. He looks at me as long as he possibly can without wrecking. Then when his eyes are back on the road, he says, You know, Luke, there’s an old saying, stupid is as stupid does. He grabs the neck of his whiskey covered in a crinkled old brown paper bag and takes a drink. From the expressions on his face, I can tell it burns as it goes down.

You know, you shouldn’t drink when you drive. You could kill us both!

He gives me a snarled look and sits the whiskey back down in the holder. The thought of him drinking alcohol makes me want to beat the holy living hell out of him. Mom had enough to deal with. Now she has to clean up Jeff when he comes home.

You know what, son?

I’m not your son.

A faint smile makes its way across the right side of his face. This whole thing is your mother’s fault. I told her to send you to a boot camp.

I so badly want to tell him he’s the reason why Mom is scared to even leave the house without his permission. But I don’t.

The whole drive, he stayed silent, and so did I. When we finally reached home, it was just about dark. As I got out of the car, the air seemed a lot cooler than usual, especially for the first of October.

The rest of the night, I stayed in my room. I tried to isolate myself as much as possible. The entire night, I just stared at my wall and listened to my neighbor Mr. Brown sing his favorite songs while in the bathtub. I remember the first time I heard him sing; it was a few days after we moved in, and I was sleeping—well, trying to sleep in my room. And then, out of nowhere, I heard him singing. It was a bit creepy at first, but after a while, you get used to it. Although one time, my mom heard him and called the police. In the report, she said that it sounded like somebody was having a stroke.

Chapter Two

The next morning, I’m woken up by the unbearable growling that’s coming from my stomach. I haven’t eaten in about sixteen hours, and I feel like my stomach is shrinking with every second. But I definitely don’t want to face Mom and Jeff, so I just press my head against the pillow and try to ignore the pain. I’m really thinking of giving up right now.

Just grow some balls, Luke, and face them. No big deal. You’ll survive. It’s not like they’ll kill you. After a while, I decide to look at the time, and it’s only seven fifteen! Suddenly, I start to hear the faint crackling and popping of eggs… or maybe sausage? Oh my god, it’s too good to be true! Wait—or is it? This is probably some type of trap to try to get me to leave my room. But I won’t do it! They think they can lure me out over some measly strips of bacon, sausage, egg, or whatever the hell it is. Well, buddy, do they have me wrong.

It’s been almost a full hour, and the more I think about it, the hungrier I get. But I’m not going to leave this room! The only way I would leave would be if the devil himself came up from hell and dragged me out; but even then, I still would be kicking and clawing. As I sit there in silence, I notice that the popping has stopped.

Maybe they already ate and had to leave. Maybe I can sneak out the door and grab something to eat and then run back before someone sees me.

Okay, Luke, just go. Be a man! Just do it, I tell myself. After a few, I walk over to the door ever so slowly, opening it just enough so that I can squeeze my head out and look down the stairs. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, so I open the door and slide through it. On the stove, I see a pan full of eggs and pancakes. I don’t hesitate very long before grabbing a handful of eggs and then shoving it down my throat, following that with a round of pancake. I’m too busy inhaling the food that I hardly notice a strange chuckling sound coming from behind me. I turn around, still having parts of a pancake wedged in my mouth. I see Mom standing there, leaning against the wall with her hand on the side of her face.

Luke, what are you doing?

Crap, I’ve been caught, and now, I’m going to get an ass chewing like this world has never seen before. And I already know what she is going to say. How could you put me through this? Then she will tell me some story when she was a kid and how she did bad things. I know the whole sloppy routine.

Are you going to swallow that, sweetie? She giggles as she wipes the piece of egg hanging at the corner of my mouth. I can’t believe it; she just stands there. Why isn’t she ripping me to shreds now? But for some odd reason, she doesn’t. She just stands there, laughing.

Are you okay? I ask suspiciously.

Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that I haven’t seen you like this in a long, long time. Gosh, you really have grown up on me, haven’t you? If you don’t want to talk right now, you don’t have to. I know how you think Jeff can be a bit overbearing at times… Okay, you’re right. But you will have to come out and talk sooner or later.

She’s right. I can’t stay locked up in my room forever. Sooner or later, I’ll have to go out and face them.

I’m sorry, Mom. I just couldn’t take it when he was making fun of her. It made me act like a whole other person. You told me I should always stand up for her.

Yes, Luke, but you do not have to punch that person, especially when that person is your teacher. It’s a miracle the only thing that was taken away was your license. I don’t know what I would do if my baby was thrown in jail. A small tear finds its way down her face and onto the fold of her chin. I wouldn’t even be able to sleep knowing you were in there. She then wraps her arms around me and starts crying; then, she begins running her fingers through my hair. I never thought that all this would put her through so much pain. She holds me so close to her, I can hear her breathing. It’s like she’s afraid if she lets me go, I’ll be gone forever.

In as soft as a voice as I can get, I whisper, I won’t leave you, Mom. I promise. I can feel tears start to well up in the corners of my eyes. After a while, her grip starts to loosen. I know my mother loves me, but she never has broken down like this in front of me before.

Mom, I’m sorry. I don’t help much around the house and with Kate much either, but I promise I’ll start doing more to help.

She tries to say something, but she’s still crying. Finally, she wipes the tears from her face, leaving red streaks behind where the tears had once burned trails into her skin. Then with a sigh, she says, You’re the best son a mother could ask for… I love you so much. Don’t ever forget that, Luke. You better go to your room before Jeff sees you.

As I turn around to leave, she makes a small plate of eggs, then hands it to me. Right before I walk around the corner to the stairs, I turn around with tears now streaming from my eyes and say, Thanks, Mom.

Chapter Three

I can’t remember the last time I spent so much time alone. It’s like I’m grounded for life, except they haven’t even given me my punishment yet. They say that your teen years are supposed to be your glory years, but I beg to differ. Lately, they’ve really sucked. There’s more work, more responsibility; and if you get in a fight, you could pretty much get arrested. It feels like the weight of the world is bearing down on me. So if these are supposed to be the glory days, what the hell am I doing here?

Kate keeps coming into my room to check up on me. She always wants me to play hide-and-seek, but I tell her I’m doing my schoolwork. I know I don’t really have any work—well, not yet anyway—but I know next week, they’ll give me work, so I’m not really lying. I don’t know why I bother to tell her; she probably doesn’t understand what I mean. She can hardly understand what Mom means when she tells her to clean her room, and she’s almost eleven.

I love her and all, but sometimes, she’s a lot of work, and I can tell it’s starting to wear on Mom. We don’t even go to the doctors anymore. Mom says that doctors are wrong; they can’t tell when she is going to die. They have several names for her condition. A lot of people call her retarded, others just stupid, but she has Down syndrome. When I was younger, I really didn’t understand what the term mongoloid meant, but now I do. She’s always been this way. But like my mom says, it’s hard for people to accept something they don’t know, and they don’t know my sister or what’s wrong with her. I mean, sure, they’ve seen stuff like this on TV, but they really don’t know what it’s like to live with her.

After forty-eight slow and agonizing hours, it’s finally Monday, but I can’t go to school. We got a call yesterday. The school board told Mom that I’m suspended for the next ten days. I’m not even allowed within one hundred yards of the school. But when most kids are suspended, they usually do cool stuff like get drunk or steal somebody’s car, maybe even egg someone’s house. Hell, I don’t know whatever floats their boat.

They also said if they caught me prowling around, the police would become very involved in my current life. I’m not really scared of them anyway. Then again, like Steve always says, You don’t have to be scared of me because I can still kick your ass. That doesn’t scare me away either. I’m going to do whatever the hell I want. It’s America!

So I decide to go see Justin at the school parking lot so we can talk. Adding to that, I’ve had a really crapper for a weekend, and to top that off, I got my license suspended, so I figured talking to Justin would make my day a bit better. At this point, I honestly wouldn’t care if Kate stayed home. At least, I would have somebody to talk to. I’m creative, but I can’t talk to a wall for nine hours.

I start walking toward the school around two thirty eight. It usually takes me about fifteen minutes to get there. Plus, I don’t want to be late. Then everyone would be gone, and I would look like an idiot.

As I walk up the parking lot, I can see Justin’s dark-blue truck. I slowly walk toward it, trying not to look too conspicuous about it, so I sneak up against the side of the door and pull the handle. It’s open! I crawl into the backseat and crouch down into the floorboard. A few minutes pass, and I

Reviews for Forgetting What's Forgiven

[josiahcollins · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Forgetting What's Forgiven is my first Novel that I've ever wrote and have had published. This is such a great achievement, considering that fact that I'm only eighteen years old. I've written so much of myself into this book, I've put blood, sweat and tears into this piece of literary work. I love this book with all my being and I hope you do to. So please take the time to read it, I promise you won't regret it. Thanks.