Jerrod
#2 of Jerrod
First let me tell you this is a work in progress, there is a lot of story to be had here. Also let me warn potential readers this story deals with many touch subjects, such as rape, child molestation, M/m, m/m, murder and suicide. if any of this offends you please read else where.
And it is meant to be written in short chapters.
Jerrod
"Mom, I don't wanna move!" the small cub whined as he wiped away tears. He watched as the small trailer, the only home he had ever known, fade away in the distance.
The young Mother looked worriedly at her son sitting there, in the back seat. She nearly cried from his pain, but this was no place for a child. They would go back to the shelter and start over. This time, I'll worker harder, and save more, so that we can live some place nice, she thought to herself as she watched her son cry, I promise.
"Baby, it'll be okay. I know you'll make friends at your new school," her words did little to comfort either of them, but it was all she could manage.
The scene she had walked into, the small, naked, broken body of the young ferret on the floor, the boy's father's blood everywhere, the heavy stench of cordite in the air, made her sick even now.
No! Jerrod will not grow up in this! He doesn't even need to know his best friend is dead. We will survive. At least this time we have the car. The paper on the seat next to her said nothing about the small tragedy of Timothy and his father's deaths, just the political posturing of the new DA.
Jerrod had cried himself to sleep by the time Linda had pulled up to the combination shelter/mission/orphanage. As she parked her car, a familiar tabby walked out of the front doors of the structure and into the parking lot.
Jack, the tabby, cautiously approached the car, but, upon recognizing Linda, brightened, and then just as quickly, his mood whip-lashed to worry when he saw her fretful, disheveled appearance and tear stained cheeks. Without a word, he picked up the sleeping cub and escorted her into the shelter. As Jerrod slept peacefully in the next room, he listened as Linda told her tale.
"... worst of all, Detective James said that Timothy was raped, and it wasn't the first time!" she said in a harsh whisper, concerned, even with the wall, that she might awaken her son. "Jack, I trusted that man with my son!" She dissolved into tears, burying her masked face into the tabby's chest.
"Linda, stay here, I'll make the arrangements for Jerrod's transfer to this school district. Tomorrow, we'll start again. Tonight, however, you need to go clean up, take these," here Jack, who was a Doctor, handed her some pills, "they'll help you sleep, and settle into my bed." He smiled as she opened her mouth to protest, "No! I insist. I can take the couch."
"Jack," she paused, embarrassed to ask this at her age. "Will..., will you hold me like you used to?"
He smiled at her. She looked so young and vulnerable. "Of course. Go, wash up. I'll still be here when you get done."
After her shower, she came out in a terry cloth robe, to find Jack sitting on the bed, already clad in his sleep wear. "Now, my little one, come lay down and get some sleep."
Linda curled up with the only person she trusted. Exhaustion quickly overtook her, and she slid into a deep, dreamless sleep.