My Youth Began With Him Novels & Stories

The boy who looked at me like he saw more than I was ready to show. I didn’t know what this was yet. But I knew it had begun.

“You have… a record?” A dry chuckle escaped him, humorless. “Juvenile started keeping tabs on me when I was thirteen. First charge was assault. Some older kid jumped one of our prospects’ little brothers. I broke his nose. Then it was trespassing. Vandalism. Street brawls. By fifteen, the cops had my name memorized.” Her stomach flipped. Thirteen. He’d been just a boy.

"I first saw you when you were twelve." Twelve? What the hell? He continued, his voice low, almost a murmur. "My father had a meeting and I was with him. I got bored, wandered into the gardens…" He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "That was when I first set my eyes on you. You were…" He searched for the right word. "…radiant. Breathtaking. Like a damn angel playing in the dirt."

Beneath the heavy armour of ruthlessness he was wearing was a boy who just wanted to be loved. With every moment that passed, every second that counted, I kept falling deeper and deeper for him, and I didn't even bother to hold back. I loved his smile. I loved his hair. I loved the way his hands moved mindlessly when he explained his story. “With the kind of childhood you had, I'm sure you had your friends come up here everyday”, I sighed. “Well, you're wrong on both things”, he pointed out. “I didn't have a single friend growing up. And you're the first person other than me to be up here.”

He's remembering now, recollecting something about me. "And in my dream, you looked so sad." Back then, I even welled up with a few tears. It may appear somewhat naïve, but my affection for him dates back to my early childhood. I harbored a deep admiration for him, even during my elementary school years. Although I often crossed paths with him during family gatherings or his company's events, I could never find the confidence to initiate a conversation. He carried an aura of enigma and detachment, revealing his authentic self exclusively in Maureen's presence, where his smiles and laughter abounded.

It was breathtaking. "This is where I met her," He said. "Where everything started," He added. "It's beautiful," I said unable to help my self. He may be a deadbeat but he knew very beautiful spots. "If I had known that things were going to turn out like this, I would not have indulged involving your mother," He told me wistfully. "What do you mean?" I asked him, already lost.

He happily led the way to the food court in the mall. We acted like teenagers just now. It's like our 'love story' is just beginning. I laugh and at the same time, it feels so light-hearted. It's like he healed my inner child. Since I met him, he's made me feel things I never experienced. I matured early because of my responsibilities, the people around me, and it became my coping mechanism. It wasn't easy, but it taught me many valuable lessons that I carry with me today.

He whispered, I busted into laughter. “Finally, someone who agree with me!” I said and he chuckled. “How long have you been working with him?” I asked, he took in a deep breath. “Well, would you believe it if I said I have been working with him since I was a fifteen?” He asked, I nodded yes, I grew up in a mafia home, young boy get recruited all the time. “I would!” I said. “Angel saved my life, I owe him everything.” He said, I smiled, not knowing what more to say.

He found me when I was 7, wandering the blood thirsty streets of New York and we've been inseparable ever since. Back then he approached me also as a 7 year old, cute, blunt, but innocent child as well. Trying to befriend me, I was a mess, just having ran away from my apartment complex, I treated him poorly, releasing my violent words onto him. "What are you gay? Do you like me?.... ...Don't worry why I'm crying foo! Go away before I hammer you to death!" I didn't have a dad that loved, nor visited my mom and I here in the states. He had practically lived overseas! Only sending us pictures of his family that I've never looked for.

I muttered against her shoulder. She turned instantly and looked at me with sympathy in her eyes. "I was very young when I started fighting and all," I said. She looked at me as if listening to me very carefully. "I have never talked about it with anyone," I said intertwining our fingers. "I used to be a simple and sober child but my father always wanted me to be rough, strong and an unkind one"