Bake Four

4

His dad did something he had never done before, he knocked his son for the first time. Both were amazed. His dad released him, and he ran out the room. “Thomas wait!” But he kept on running. He heard when the front door opened and slammed.

“Honey,” his wife said, “what’s going on?”

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

“Do what?”

“I hit him.”

“You what?”

“I’m sorry. He’s changed,” he said, getting up and starting to search his son’s room.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “You can’t do this.”

“Oh yes I can,” he said, turning over some things and digging through others. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching for something and pulling it out.

“Oh my–”

“Drugs.”

Bake Three

3

He knew that either his mom or dad would follow him after an outburst like that, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard his dad at his door, ordering him to come back to the table and apologized to everyone. He didn’t move; he lay out on his bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air. His dad went in.

“Didn’t you hear what I said Thomas.”

“I heard.”

“Then why aren’t you moving?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Get up,” his dad said angrily.

“Not in the mood.”

“Get up,” he said, forcibly grabbing him off the bed and slamming him against the wall. “You think since you’re fourteen you’re  a man.”

“Take your hands off me.”

“Or what?” he asked, not letting go.

“You’ll see.”

Bake Two

2

It wasn’t until he was called down to dinner that he left his room. That was two hours later.

“The zombie lives,” his nine-year old brother said.

“Shut up,” he said, taking his seat. “I’m not hungry.”

“It’s okay if you take a break from the books,” his dad said.

“But you guys want me to get A’s.”

“You can eat something, take an hour break, and then go back to study,” his mom said.

“I got all A’s,” his brother said, sounding obnoxiously proud. He looked at him and felt sorry. The same thing that was happening to him, was happening to his brother. Their parents were demanding perfect grades. “I love studying.”

“Be quiet,” he told him.

“Don’t tell me be–”

“You annoying brat!” he shouted, as he banged on the table.

“Thomas,” his mom said, surprised by his actions. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Leave me alone!” he said, getting up from the table and going back to his room.

Bake One

1

He felt happy there, for awhile, in his escape from what was happening around him. But when that feeling left him, the problems were still there, and he remained the way he was before he took them–hurt. His refuge lasted as long as he was high.

And there he was again, after feeling trapped, dulling his senses, the moment–with drugs. He sat with his back against his bed, while his body became numb. He closed his eyes as he felt like a dehydrated person being watered. He moved his head from side to side, as if listening to music, and then let it dropped. He heard a knock and thought it was in his head; it grew louder.

“Thomas,” he heard someone say. “Are you in there?” He mumbled to himself. “Thomas?”

He slowly became aware of where he was, and answered, “I’m studying.”

Lying truth

[Norman Rockwell - Fact & Fiction]

How do we react when some people spread lies and rumors about us? Do we care that they do?

In the story below, In Print, an actress goes against her agent’s advice and fights back after a tabloid newspaper prints an inaccurate story about her.

Is reputation important?

So until the next story . . .

When we are tired and overwhelm, we either take a break, or we break. (*_~)

Pull Five (the end)

5

I was invited as another guest on a show, and that was where I announced my intention of suing. And in my calm frustration, I took a copy of that paper and burnt it in a wastebasket. Whoever watched that night got a glimpse of my anger.

That Pinocchio probably knew what was coming, that I was serious, because the publisher met with my lawyer and I secretly. I saw the person who was spreading lies for profit. He was sitting across from me, and I was staring at him–hard. He didn’t look at me, not once during that meeting.

He promised to print a retraction, apologizing for their “mistake”, but he wouldn’t call themselves liars. He wouldn’t print that in their paper. My lawyer advised me to take the deal; I did. They knew that I knew what they were, and they wouldn’t mess with me again. I had that full page apology framed.

Yeah, my life’s not scripted, but I’m sure not going to let others write and try ruin it for me.

Thank you for reading.

Pull Four

4

“If they’ve never heard the words sue because of slander before, then they’ll hear it now,” I said to my agent

“Don’t–”

“I hope you’re not going to tell me don’t do that?” He started to tap his fingers on his desk. “I’m not going to wait for three strikes.” I could see beads of sweat above his upper lip. “I’m not going to ask for money. What I want after I win, because I will win, is for them to print a full page calling themselves liars and apologizing to me.”

“Are you serious? They’ll never do that.”

“You worry about getting me another movie role; I’ll take care of this.”

“Don’t–”

“Here we go again with a don’t.”

“Cause trouble.”

“I know you hate trouble, but in this case, they brought it to me.”

“Think about what you’re doing.”

“Oh I’ve thought about it. My good name is who I am. It’s time for action, and I’m going to give them some.”

Pull Three

3

I act in movies with scripted lines; life’s not that way. My life’s not that way. Whenever I went out, I looked around to see if I was being followed. When I smiled or showed an angry face, in the back of my mind I wondered what they would write to explain those facial expressions. I was on the verge of paranoia, teetering like a cue ball on top of a cue. I allowed that story to dictate my life–for awhile.

I had to live my life, again, and so I did. I started to do the things I normally did before. And perhaps they were waiting for me to do that, because once again, I became a story. Same tabloid. I must have been the flavor of the month.

‘Was Hannah Graves driving drunk when she was pulled over by the police?’

Firstly, I don’t drink. Secondly, I love to take late night drives. But that sentence that they wrote, although written as a question, suggested that I was driving drunk. I was through being a quiet victim.

Pull Two

2

‘Just days after a well-known actor broke up with his girlfriend, Hannah Graves was seen last night leaving his house. Can it be that she is in a secret relationship and is the reason for that break up?’

“Were you at his house?” my agent asked.

“Yes, and so were eleven other people. I was the first to leave, but did they say that?”

“They don’t tell the truth; it doesn’t sell.”

“It feels as if I have to explain myself.”

“Why?”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

“It’ll blow over.”

It didn’t. I was on a show, promoting my new movie, and yeah the host was interested in the movie, but then the questions about that lie started coming.

“So you’re saying that it was not true?”

“Yes.”

“Any woman that–”

“A woman’s a grown version of a little girl; a lady’s something more. And I’m a lady.”

“With class.”

“You bet,” I said, smiling and then turning the attention back to why I was there.

Pull One

1

I didn’t know why some people were obsessed with my personal life, about who I was dating, as if expecting some steamy paperback novel. You know the ones with a hot handsome guy on the cover with a sexy lady. Yeah, I’m sexy, but so what. I don’t advertise it. But others such as a particular tabloid newspaper didn’t mind making up stories. In print, and those who bought that paper got a dose of rumors with my photos.

“You should’ve expected this sort of thing,” my agent said.

“What?” I asked, gripping tighter at the tabloid that was in my hand. “My life’s private, not for some cheesy paper to make up stories about.”

“Don’t think about it.”

“Don’t think . . . I can’t believe you just said that. It’s all lies. My reputation’s being sullied and you tell me don’t think about it.”

“I’m sorry. What did they write?”

“You mean you didn’t read it?”

“I don’t read garbage. What did they write?”