Author's note: Hey, I'm back, and once again, okay, this may have a good ending or something to that extent. (Which alone is a major departure from my other works…) Okay, legal stuff: If you've seen it in TV or somewhere, then it couldn't possibly be mine, right? So, yeah. I got this idea after a friend suggested that I try writing about it. So, being the dutiful friend that I was (plus a big thanks to psychology and sociology courses) I got into the groove of writing about this. I'll explain why I used a weird title a little later on, so without further ado, here is my next story.
Resident Evil: "Rivers in Galilee"
Prologue:
He washed his face in front of the mirror. The school comfort rooms felt so small compared to the luxurious lifestyle that the young man was accustomed to. Derrick Burton was a handsome young man who grew acquainted with the lifestyle of a celebrity, following the contributions of his father, Barry Burton, in the military field. His two sisters, Moira and Poly, were already leading successful lives themselves, the former in the art of journalism, with the latter currently finishing up law school with various prestigious offers coming her way.
Derrick on the other hand, was a shy, young man of seventeen years. Clad in a blue, long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of black, denim pants, he had short brown hair, pale skin, and crystal blue eyes that made every girl turn his way. Unfortunately though, he couldn't share that feeling of attraction to the opposite sex. Like hundreds upon thousands of people, he was undeniably attracted to the same gender, and like most of those other people, he was ashamed, and very much frightened to admit it.
Sociologists attribute this to an influx of uncontrollable emotion that brings forth an overabundance of gender-based hypocrisy and inequality. Geneticists on the other hand, are squabbling to prove that it is a type of genetic malfunction that decreases the testosterone or estrogen levels of respective individuals, making them more susceptible to acting out like the opposite gender. For others, it was a sickness, a disease that could never be cured.
He was afraid that he'd lose his friends that they'd begin to act around him differently. More than that, he was afraid of his father, the elderly man who could kill with a stare after an accident incapacitated one of his legs. The result was a man unlike before, bellowing in a low, frightening voice, white bushy hair and a receding hairline. Derrick knew that a traditionalist, a devout Roman Catholic like his father, would never accept him for who he was.
With shaking hands, he scooped up water with his hands from the running faucet, and gently caressed it on his face, relishing the comfort that it brought. He let out a loud sigh as he turned the faucet off; it was five more minutes before his class, his first class as a freshman in college. Still, he knew that he could never truly be open to anyone. He knew that he wouldn't be able to think of how well his day would go, or any trepidation presented by aging professors eager to get a laugh out of failing the whole student body.
As with every waking moment, it was the fear of truth that he wrestled with, contended with, and deep inside, he knew that it was a losing battle. Especially since he had a secret relationship with an older boy whom he met in his senior year back in high school. It was mute, but it was still very, very real. He loved somebody, but it was a love that he could never fully express. "…Here we go." He thought, as he pulled himself away from the isolation and pushed the washroom door open.
In an instant, a barrage of noise struck his senses, a world full of color, diversity, and personality. He wanted to believe that he could just blend in if he revealed his secret, and perhaps he could. That slight window of happiness however, of relief, was a chance he never planned on taking.
Chapter 1: "First Day"
The halls were alive with energy, full of wide-eyed students that one could clearly separate from those of the older batches. Freshmen always had a knack for exploration, for new things and the like. They had with them new notebooks and plush bags, over-gelled hair and baggy pants. Upper classmen on the other hand, carried the most enthusiasm when meeting with friends that they've shared their whole summer with. They were also the ones who joked and dreaded about comparative anatomy, legal management and behavioral scientists. Freshmen dreamed of being dean's listers, while upper batch men dreamed of getting passing marks in all their quizzes.
Derrick fell in the former category, big dreams, high hopes, a person who hasn't faced the horrors of memorizing an entire frog's anatomy in the course of three days, neither has he been tested by philosophy professors who would not rest until they drive the point that there is no such thing as freedom into impressionable young minds. Luckily, he didn't have to face the former challenge as he found himself majoring in psychology as a bachelor of science. He liked how that sounded; it made a person seem smarter than he really was. "A57." Derrick entered the classroom, finding the people he met in his freshman orientation about a week ago.
The room was dominantly white, a bit darkened by age, with reflective windows for anyone who decided that they needed to fix their hair in the middle of a lecture. Derrick saw Karl, a skin headed young man who fancied himself a good-looking person, even though everybody else knew that it was a truly false notion. He was flirting with two girls in the front row, both of whom were trying their best not to just vomit then and there. So far, there were only five people excluding him, the three up front, and two young lovers who were passionately discussing their experience in the comfort room just moments ago. "…" Silently, he set down his bag in a seat just by the door, nearest to where he stood. Handsome as he was, the fact that he was extremely shy turned most people off.
A soft knock on the door then made him turn around. He clearly recognized the face on the opposite side of the glass pane. It was Alex Richens, a sophomore student in mechanical engineering. For the first time in the whole morning, Derrick cracked a smile, and quickly met the older boy outside. Alex had dirty blonde hair that drifted down to his neck, and a pair of green eyes. Like Derrick, he stood out because of his features, and like Derrick, he enjoyed the company of the same gender.
"Welcome to the university." Alex said with a smile. He wore a small, yet loose gray shirt and a pair of faded jeans. "Thanks." Derrick replied cheerfully. Alex leaned over to give him a soft kiss, but the young man quickly leaned back to avoid it. "…Sorry." The older man rubbed the back of his head, remembering how much of a well-kept secret his boyfriend's sexuality was.
"So…uh, what's your first class?" Alex asked, shifting his weight.
"Genpsyc." Derrick replied, leaning on the railing beside his boyfriend. There was a large, rectangular opening in the middle of the building found on all the floors. In the middle, on the bottom floor, was a small garden purely for superficial purposes. Derrick looked down onto the garden, as he was in the fourth floor, which was the topmost one. "What time is it going to start?"
"Eight." He said, making Alex laugh. "It's just six thirty…what are you doing here so early?" he asked, leaning on the railing as well. "My mom…she had to go to work early, and I'd rather tag along in the car than use the bus. Besides, it's the first day, I'm pretty excited."
"I remember the feeling." Alex responded, looking down onto the garden as well. "Hey, Alex." Greeted a few guys passing by, members of the basketball varsity where Alex was playing. He responded by waving at them, then resuming his leaning position. "Uh…" Derrick rubbed the back of his head, feeling embarrassed to be asking anything.
"I'm a one guy man." Alex softly told him, as if knowing what it was that went through his boyfriend's mind. His words were enough to draw a comforted smile out of the young man, as he simply nodded and smiled in return. "Hey…you're wearing the bracelet I gave you." Alex pointed out, referring to the blue beads around his boyfriend's waist. "Yeah…somebody said it brought out my eyes or something."
"…It does. Uh, so, ready for your first class?" Alex asked him, turning around so he could lean his back and elbows onto the railing. "I think so, yeah."
"Who do you have?"
"I still don't know. I didn't bother to ask. All professors are the same anyway." Derrick responded with a look of indifference. "It's all about seat works, home works, quizzes, long quizzes…"
"Not in college. Sometimes they don't even give quizzes." Alex replied with his all-knowing smile. Sometimes, it irritated the hell out of Derrick, other times he'd just want to kiss his him like he always did. "There's a professor in RELSTWO… he'd give these really cool lessons, like this one time, he walked into the class and announced that there was going to be a quiz. So naturally, everyone started asking each other, learning and stuff, we didn't realize that the period was already over. He just stood up, and said to us that, we needed each other to survive. Then he let us go."
"Cool." Derrick replied. "…So how does he grade people?" he then asked.
"Oral exam, everything's easy but he always asks one question near the end that no one could answer…like, give the exact location of some ancient city or something. Hey, you're already taking up RELSONE aren't you?"
"Yeah, I have it MWF."
"Dr. Monera. He gives these hard as nails quizzes and exams that, practically half the class ends up failing, but he always gives the students high marks in the end."
"He just lets people pass?"
"Not really, you'd have to do an exegetical study…memorize the 'Our Father' in its original Greek…and a bibliarasal."
"Sounds fun." Derrick quipped sarcastically. "…Actually…it is."
"What's a bibliarasal anyway?" he asked.
"It's…kind of this family bonding experience. Share secrets…stuff like that."
"…" Derrick's heart stopped at the notion of spending time with his distant father. "It's a requirement?" he asked weakly, with Alex quickly understanding why Derrick was clearly becoming worried. "…Uh, yeah." He responded. The last time Derrick spent any time with his father in his own volition was before Barry's accident. Before he suddenly thought that the world was a twisted place to live in. After Barry's accident, Derrick was pushed away, and each action returned a more critical reaction each time. Overnight, he lost a father, and gained a heartless judge.
"…Great."
"You know…it could be a good time to iron out your problems with your dad." Alex suggested. He's never met Barry Burton; Derrick would never allow it, because he knew that his father already had suspicions about his son's sexuality. It was close-minded people like him, who saw a same gender sexual preference as a disease that made Alex sick to his stomach.
"…I don't think so." Derrick responded. Alex knew that if he grinded him about it, his stubbornness would just keep on holding, until they get into another argument about the truth. "…You can't keep on hiding all your life, Derrick…" Alex whispered to him, clearly wanting what was best for him.
"…We already talked about this Alex. I don't want to…I just, I can't handle it."
"…"
"At least not now." He said, giving no other reason than his own fear of rejection. Alex nodded at him, as understanding as ever. "It's the best chance you have of breaking him the news." Alex suggested. He really wanted Derrick to come clean with the truth. He had his reasons.
"It'll be a whole lot easier if you…"
"I know that, Alex." Derrick quickly snapped back, still keeping a hushed voice.
Barry Burton watched the trees sway in the far distance as he sat on a rocking chair in his porch. He had on a red turtleneck and a pair of black pants. Thankfully, he built their house in a secluded area, saving him from the noise of the busy Stoneville streets. He couldn't take excessive noise, not from television, nor from radio. "Hallie." He whispered under his breath, sensing the presence of his wife who emerged from the open door. She had beautiful blonde hair for her age, and a well kept body as well, thanks to the fact that their entire family prided exercise and personal hygiene.
"Barry." She responded. Still carrying as much elegance and grace as she did decades ago, Hallie was a woman sought after by many men. Barry was lucky to have someone like her as his wife. "…Chris called. He said that…next Tuesday…"
"His daughter's funeral, yes, I know." He responded with a chilling voice, one that did not show the slightest bit of affection. "…I'll be going." His wife told him. She wore a zipped up white blazer and a pair of slacks that were of the same color. "When you get there…tell them that I was busy."
"Are you sure that you don't want to go?"
"You're making it sound like a field trip."
"…" Hallie crossed her arms in front of her chest, watching her husband stare off into the tree line in the distance. "…Will you be going?" she asked again, clearly agitated at her husband's apathetic nature. "I have no reason to go." Barry replied. "He's your friend… your closest friend." She tried to persuade him. "Your only friend." She thought.
"Yes…he was, wasn't he?" Barry scratched his temple, and then left his hand there to lean his head on. His eyes trailed down to his leg, unusable in its current state. Everyone he knew abandoned him one way or another. He was never as loved as much as his other colleagues were. Back then it deeply troubled him, that even with his expertise and experience, nobody ever consulted him, nobody ever thanked him. "What do you mean by that?" Hallie asked him, but she knew that when it came to that, she would never get a clear response, merely a vague reflection of her husband's inner turmoil.
"It must be horrible…losing your child." He bitterly remarked, hinting at his own distaste for how far his son has strayed from what he wanted for him. "That's why me must treasure ours." Hallie replied, still keeping her distance. "…" There was a time when she knew what to say for every situation. She knew when to comfort somebody, when to tell him or her that everything will turn out well. There was also a time when she loved the man whose back was in front of her. It was always that way. He never bothered turning to look at his family's faces anymore. He much better desired the calm and comfort, as well as the solitude that the vestige of nature seemed to bring. Time changes many things.
"I always thought him to become a doctor. He liked your books. Do you remember?"
"…Yes. Yes, I do. He has skilled hands…he's very good in painting."
"He paints?"
"…Yes…for two years now. I told you."
"So that's what you've been spending money on? Teaching our son things that he could not possibly use for his future? No wonder it's looking bleak."
"How could you say that? Painting isn't worthless. I painted. I loved painting…"
"That was before your arthritis."
"…Yes…it was."
"…He'll never be a doctor, will he?"
"…"
"Where's a school shooting when you need one…"
Author's note: Honestly, I had no clue what Barry's wife's name was, so I just used the name of an ex. I hope I managed to set a good enough mood for the upcoming hell I plan to put everyone through. I know, it's slow as hell, but hey, think of it as an indie flick, and it'll probably seem a whole lot more entertaining to read. So, I hope you enjoyed, and for the love of all that is unholy, please give me a review, okay? Thank you!