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Subject: My Step-Brother Jacob – Chapter 18 DISCLAIMER: The following story is FICTIONAL. It contains descriptions of sexual activities between teenage boys. If you are not over 18 years of age, or if you find this type of story offensive, or viewing this material is illegal where you are, then please DO NOT READ IT! If you choose to read it, then – I hope you enjoy it! My Step-Brother Jacob Chapter 18 ————————————————————————– I stood, frozen like a statue, staring down at the letter that lay on the table. It was postmarked the day after Mike died. He must’ve mailed it shortly before he died. I was terrified to pick the letter up, let alone to open it and read it. “Are you OK?” I heard Jacob ask. I was unable to reply. I just kept staring at Mike’s letter. Jacob walked over to me and reached for the letter. Just as he was about to pick it up, I quickly scooped it up off the table. “No!” I said. “John! What’s wrong? Who’s it from?” he asked. “Mike,” I said, “it’s from Mike.” “What?” Dad asked from across the kitchen. “Mike sent John a letter!” Jacob said. “Oh my God!” Dad said, walking over to me. I was still holding the letter, just staring at it. I noticed my hand was shaking a little. “Do you want me to open it?” Dad asked, reaching for it. “No!” I said, turning away, “I have to be alone right now.” Then I walked out of the kitchen. My legs felt rubbery, so I didn’t go upstairs to my room. Instead, I went into the living room and sat down on the couch. I sat looking at the letter for a minute, still frozen in utter disbelief. As I held it in my hands, looking at Mike’s handwriting, I got the uncanny feeling that Mike’s presence was in the room with me. Shivers went up and down my spine. Finally, I gathered my courage and stuck my finger inbetween the flap and the body of the envelope, and ripped the top open. I pulled a single, folded sheet of looseleaf paper out of the envelope. I stared at it for a few seconds, then I took a deep breath and unfolded the page. It was a full page, written in Mike’s small handwriting. The ink from a few words at the bottom was smeared a little, as if the paper had somehow gotten wet, and Mike had wiped it dry. I began to read. “Dear John, I never thought I’d be sending you a ‘Dear John’ letter, but I guess that’s sort of what this is. Anyway, I have something to tell you. I need you to promise me though that you’ll never tell anyone what I tell you in this letter! I know you well enough to know you’ll honor a man’s final request! This’ll be the last time you hear from me. And you’re the last person I’m talking to. That’s because you’re the most important person in my life! There’s something you never şişli travesti knew about me. I think you’re getting close to figuring it out though. Especially after the other night in the men’s room before rehearsal. I figured it out a long time ago myself, but never told anyone. I’m gay! There! I said it – Finally! You’re the first (and only) person I’ve ever told. Please don’t tell anyone! I want everyone to remember me the way I was. Anyway, I have a problem bigger than just being gay. See – I’m in love with you! Well, I finally said that now too! I guess when you know the end is near, it’s easier to say things. Yeah Bro, I love you! And I don’t just mean in a brotherly way. You know what I mean. All along I thought you were straight, and figured there was no way I’d ever have you. But I figured at least I had you as a best friend. It nearly killed me when you moved to England. But you said you’d be back soon. I was happy when you said you were coming for a visit. But, when you showed up, you had Andy with you. I hate Andy. Not for any particular reason, except that he “has” you! Otherwise, I guess he’s OK. Anyway, I watched the two of you the last couple days, and now I know that you two are lovers! I saw you kissing in your car tonight before the show! John, I almost die anytime I see you with a girl, but to see you with another guy – Fuck, I just can’t handle that! WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE LOVED ME??? I love you so much! I love you more than I can ever tell you! I know you love me, but you don’t love me the way I need you to. Please don’t blame yourself for what I’m gonna do. Please don’t feel responsible. You’re not. You can’t help the way things are. It’s not your fault. This is about me, not you. I just can’t live like this any longer. I’m too fucking miserable. I just want to be dead. So it’s time for me to say Good-Bye to you John. Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Maybe I’ll see you up in heaven someday. I hope so! I want you to be happy John. I hope Andy makes you happy. Just remember – I’ll always love you! Please forgive me! All my love forever, Mike PS – Sorry about the tear stains. I hope you can read everything.” “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” I yelled, letting the letter slip to the floor. I leaned against a pillow on the side of the couch and began sobbing. Through my tears I saw Jacob and Dad rush in. Jacob sat down next to me and put an arm around me, and rubbed my back. He had tears in his eyes. “What did the letter say?” Dad asked. Then he saw it on the floor and stooped to pick it up. “NO!” I yelled, lunging for the letter, but Dad was too quick. He scooped it up and started to read it. I yelled “NO! DON’T READ IT!” and tried beylikdüzü travesti to rip it out of his hands. Dad turned away from me, and continued reading, as I stood and tried to reach around him. “DAD – PLEASE!” I begged, “PLEASE DON’T READ ANYMORE – IT’S PRIVATE!” But he stepped quickly away from me, and continued reading. Again, I tried to reach around him and grab the letter away, but he spun to the side, still reading. Finally I gave up, and stood miserably, waiting. A couple seconds later he turned and stared incredulously at me, Mike’s letter hanging loosely in his hand. I ripped it away from him, folded it, stuffed it in my pocket, and said “I told you not to read it!” Dad stood, staring at me. He blinked a couple of times, then stepped toward me and reached toward my neck. I leaned back instinctively, but he continued moving forward, until he’d grabbed the necklace Andy had given me and tugged at it. He turned it over, and read the inscription on the back. The veins in his neck began to bulge, and his face reddened. My eyes filled with tears again. “Is THAT what THIS is all about?” he snarled giving my necklace a hard yank this time, before letting go of it. “I’m sorry!” I said quietly. “You’re GAY?” he bellowed, his face turning redder. “Yes,” I barely whispered, staring hollowly at his adam’s apple. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob standing off to the side. Tears started to run down his cheeks. “And Andy is your boyfriend?” he asked. “Yes,” I said, still avoiding his look. He didn’t say anything for several seconds. Then, he asked “Are you sleeping with him?” Shaking, I looked at him, but didn’t answer. “WELL?” he shouted. “Yes,” I said, and looked down at the floor. “So that’s why he sleeps over all the time, in your bed with you?” he continued. “Yes,” I said, feeling my face beginning to burn. Then Dad saw Jacob, standing against the doorway crying, “Oh my God!” he yelled, “Are you fucking your step-brother too?” He asked, looking back at me, with a look of horror on his face. By now, tears were streaming from my eyes. I couldn’t speak. “ARE YOU?” he roared at me. “YES HE IS!” Jacob yelled, jumping between us, facing my father, “I’M GAY TOO! AND WE LOVE EACH OTHER! NOW LEAVE HIM ALONE!” All the color drained from Dad’s face then, and he stepped back, muttering, “Oh my fucking god!” He just stood and stared at us. Then, silently, he turned, walked into the hallway, took his coat from a peg on the wall, put it on, and walked out the door. Jacob spun around and wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face against my chest, and gave into his sobbing. I put my arms around him, holding him, and cried too. Through the window, I saw Dad walking off slowly down istanbul travesti the sidewalk. After a few minutes, Jacob’s crying subsided, and he pulled away from me and sat down on the couch, looking up at me. “What do you think’s going to happen now?” he asked, sounding frightened. “I don’t know,” I answered, miserably. I went and sat next to him. He scootched over to me, and I put an arm around him. “How did Dad figure out you’re gay? What did Mike’s letter say?” Jacob asked. “I can’t tell you what’s in the letter. Mike asked me not to show it to anyone. Dad should never have read it!” I said. “But, I don’t understand,” Jacob persisted, “what just happened here?” “Dad found out I was gay, and that Andy is my boyfriend. Then he put two and two together about us. I can’t explain anymore,” I said. “Boob knew?” Jacob asked. “Let’s just drop it, OK?” I said, “all I can tell you is, it’s my fault Mike’s dead, and now I’ve ruined all our lives too!” I leaned against the back of the couch, as my eyes watered again. “Nothing’s your fault, it’ll be OK,” Jacob said, leaning back, snuggling up to me. I put my arm around him. We sat together, both quietly crying for some time, the silence broken only by our sniffling and the sirens of a police car and ambulance that screamed past the house. About twenty minutes went by, then we heard a car pull in the driveway. We sat up, wiping our eyes dry. Elizabeth walked in the front door. “Bugger me!” she said, as she took off her coat, “There’s some kind of accident a couple blocks down the street. I had to detour to get here.” “Yeah, some sirens passed by a little while ago,” I said. “What did the doctor say Mum?” Jacob asked, still rubbing his eyes, “is everything OK?” “Yes, things are OK, but I have to talk to your father, where is he?” she asked. We looked at each other miserably, then I said, “he went for a walk.” “Oh,” she said looking at us. She studied our faces for a minute and then said, “What’s the matter with you two?” We looked at each other, neither of us knowing what to say. The doorbell rang just then. Saved by the bell! I was closest to the door, so I stepped over and opened it. A couple of policemen stood on the front steps, looking grimly at me. “Is this where Alan Wilder lives?” one of them asked. “Yes. He’s my father,” I said. For reasons I wasn’t sure of, my chest began to hurt. “May we come in please?” the cop asked. I pulled the door open and let them in, closing the door behind them. Elizabeth looked at the policemen apprehensively and said, “I’m Mrs. Wilder, what’s wrong?” The policemen looked at Elizabeth and the one who’d spoken to me said quietly, “We’re sorry to have to tell you this maam, but there’s been an accident, your husband was struck by a car, while crossing the street a couple blocks from here.” The policeman caught Elizabeth, as she fainted. ————————————————————————– The next chapter in this series will be published shortly.

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