LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

"In the Midst of it All..." by xX_LP4Life_05_Xx

Chapter One

Author's Note


So i have come back to this wonderful site after being gone for so long. I've been working on a new story of my own and truly hope that everyone who is still here and reads all these wonderful stories will read mine and like it. Please leave your thoughts/ reviews and ratings after each of my chapters to help me to continue on with my story. It starts off a little slow but i am hoping you will still stick around regardless. I am not one to personally rush through chapters.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of Linkin Park. I only own the thoughts and ideas that i put into this story.


So without making you wait any further, please enjoy the first chapter of " In the Midst of it All..."


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“Mr. Bennington.”




For me, it was just another boring day in my poor pitiful existence. Today was just mildly cloudy with a high percentage of fuck it all. Just like any other day, today started off the same as the rest. Get up, shower, shave, rush to make my morning classes, workout, work, then back home to my dwelling of darkness. I would occasionally hang out with a few buddies of mine and drink and write music, but for the last four months, I have not seen nor heard from anyone. Leaving me in this repetitive endless cycle of daily adult life. Some days I wish I could go back to the simple days of childhood. Back before that life altering event happened. Back when life was full of bliss and to heal a wound was as simple as giving it a gentle kiss. I truly miss that simple life. I miss not having to stray away from someone’s touch. Whether male or female. (Yes, by admitting this, I was indeed bisexual. I enjoyed the company of both men and women. I found each sex attractive in their own unique ways. But since that monster did what he did, it was hard to be physical towards either one. Thanks Shithead.) I wish that monster had never taken away my innocence. Had never taken that purity of my soul. And though I’m still physically alive and breathing in the flesh, that monster of a man killed me internally.



“Chester?”



That’s exactly what he was. A monster in human form. Because no true human being would take away something so fragile as a child’s innocence and smile while doing so.



“Chester Bennington, hello?”



I felt someone nudge my arm, waking me from my dream like state. It was my boss. A middle aged man with a heart of gold. He smiled softly at me and sighed.



“Chester, I need you to come back to Earth son.”



I smiled softly and nodded in reply.



“I’m sorry Greg. Just alot on my mind these days.”



“It’s okay son, just need your mind here for now if that’s okay?” he lightly chuckled.



“Yes sir.” I replied and looked down out of embarrassment.




I watched him walk away softly shaking his head. That gentle soul was Gregory Wright. Greg was a pudgy older man who had built this place he admired so much. He had peppered colored hair and soft brown eyes. He had lived a rather hard life but with his positive demeanor you would never know. We often talked about our lives and that’s how we became so close. He was in a sense the father I wish I had had. He had no children of his own and was widowed. His wife had died 12 years back due to cancer. Ever since, he took care of this store like it was his baby. He often referred to me as his son. He once told me had he ever had a son that he wished he was something like me. He knew of my dreams and knew that I wanted to be more than just a bookkeeper the rest of my life. He knew I wanted to help people and always encouraged me to become more than what I was. He most days had more faith in me than I had in myself. I honestly adored this man more than he’d ever know.



And when all seemed to be falling apart, I happened to walk into this beautiful shop filled with every book imaginable and fell in love with its peacefulness and serenity. At that time in my life everything was going down the drain.



Around that time, I had finally confessed to my mother and father about what that monster had done to me. To my dismay, they thought I was making it all up. It baffled me. Then they went on to accuse me of “asking for it” or “leading him on.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My own flesh and blood were sticking up for a man that ruined their son’s life. I remember that night so vividly…



*Flashback*



That day I had decided to have the courage to tell them. Tell them why my life felt in such a disarray. My heart was pounding and it felt like it was stuck in my throat. I had weighted all possibilities on how this would turn out. But I never imagined it turning out this way. The moment I had stepped into the kitchen and gathered my thoughts, both were standing there, looking at me like I was some pest on the wall. As I opened my mouth and spoke in a trembling tone, I wish I hadn't told them anything at all.



I looked at my own mother as tears stained my face. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.



“But mom, why would I make this up? Mark raped me mom. For years. I’ve been holding this away for years.” I exclaimed, coughing as I choked back more tears from exiting my now red eyes.



“How dare you tell such lies about your father’s long time friend. The second man in your life who practically helped raise you when we couldn’t. This is pathetic Chester and what your saying is just plain absurd. You should be ashamed of yourself for telling such lies.” my mother practically spat at me.



“Why are you saying such things you ungrateful brat? I’ve known Mark mostly my whole life and he is no pedophile. And he surly doesn’t go for young boys. Why are trying to make up such an elaborate story to get attention?” my father hissed at me.



My mind at that moment couldn’t process what I was hearing. Were my own flesh and blood standing along side a man they obviously didn’t know was a monster in disguise? How could they be so daft…



“Why would I tell you all this just to get attention from you? Do you know how hard it was for me to come to you after years of abuse and feeling ashamed of my own self and body? To think that my parents, the only ones who I thought would help me and understand, are defending this monster? Tell me again, why in the fuck would I make this shit up?” I almost screamed at them.



I hadn’t realized my father had stepped towards me in a threatening manner, “HEY! You better watch your language in front of your mother you little shit.”



I stepped back a little in sudden disbelief and shock. I shook my head and began to laugh. I thought for just that second I was going crazy.



“What the fuck is wrong with you both?” I threw my hands out at each of them. “You believe some dirty old pervert over your own son? You let him molest me while you both worked long hours and he was supposedly just “watching” me? I can’t believe this. This is crazy. I gave you both signs that something was wrong but you both just ignored them. Are you both that fucking oblivious to the fucking world around you to not realize something was wrong with your son? I was molested and raped and made to do things that would make any normal man cringe. But after all this knowledge, all you can do is blame it on me and live in fucking denial that your best fucking friend is a pedophlic monster that preyed on me?”



As I screamed every word, I suddenly felt a sharp painful sting to my left cheek. And not soon after, stars followed that pain as my body made a rough landing onto the floor. Yet sending another jolt of pain from my hand, through my arm, and eventually throughout my entire body. I then looked up from my now position on the kitchen floor as my father stood over with a menacing look on his features.



“How dare you use that language in this house?” he spat and bent over, coming closer to my face. “And you know what? Whatever happened to you, whatever he did, you probably asked for it. You’re pathetic. You’re no son of mine.” he finished and stepped over me, walking away.



I kept my tears to myself as I sat in total disbelief. This was not how I pictured this. The pain from my wrist woke me from my thoughts. I brought my arm to my chest and cradled it lightly. As I looked down at it and softly whimpered, I knew it was broken. I then situated myself just right and got up off the floor. I looked over at my mom while still cradling my arm and realized she had never taken her eyes off of me. I could see that a part of her pitied me and wanted to believe me and wanted to hold me like the little boy I once was to her but my father had such a control over her that her mind couldn’t make her own conclusive thoughts of the situation. She blinked a few times as if snapping out of a daze to quickly realize me holding my now broken wrist against my chest. She slowly walked over to me and tried to touch my shoulders but I flinched away as she reached out to touch me. She then tried again and placed one hand on each of my shoulders, turning me around and leading me out the front door and to the car. She opened and closed the passenger door for me and walked around and got in the driver’s seat. She started the car and made her way back to her job.



My mother was a full-time nurse at the local hospital. She was highly appreciated and loved for all her hard work. She was honestly someone who I thought would understand what had happened to me. Someone who I thought would truly believe in me. Someone who I thought would recognize that there was something truly wrong with her baby boy. But I guess as long as she stood by my father and was wrapped in his spell, she would never truly believe me.



That night ended with me walking home in a cast and my arm in a sling that was mounted to my chest. My wrist was indeed fractured. From the x-rays that were taken, it showed my wrist was broken in two places and would take at least 8 weeks to heal. My mother had to stay at work hence the only reason I was walking home. I didn’t dare want to get in a car with my father after how the nights events played out.



The warm night breeze brushed against my injured supple face as I walked the cracked sidewalk, causing me to wince in pain. I had almost but forgotten that my father had punched me in the face. I lightly brushed my free hand against my injured cheek, wincing once more. I was definitely going to have a black and bruised face tomorrow. As I continued walking, the night just kept replaying in my head. What I wouldn’t give to have parents who actually sympathized with me. Parents who understood how hard it was for me to say anything to them about this unnerving situation.



I then stopped at a busy intersection waiting for the light to turn red. The sudden thought of me just walking out into the busy traffic and ending it all sadly crossed my mind. But as quickly as the thought came, it vanished. My death wouldn’t solve anything. And my luck, I’d only be injured and not killed. I looked around for anything to take my mind off that thought and my eyes suddenly looked up at the billboard shining atop a building across from me. It was advertising a show date for a band that I was familiar with. A band that I truly admired and enticed me to sing. It was a sign for a show for Stone Temple Pilots.




“I would give anything to be on a sign like that one day with my own band.” I said aloud to no one in particular.




The light suddenly turned red and the walking light illuminated, signaling for walkers to continue. As I sighed and slowly started walking, continuing my path back to my home, realization hit me hard. It hit me to the point that I tears creased at the edges of my eyes. Today had been my 16th birthday and not one person had remembered.



*End of Flashback*





After that day, I barely spoke to my parents. I couldn’t hardly stand the thought of living with them and shortly moved out with a friend. My wrist healed and I continued on with my life. I slowly found myself falling into very bad habits. I started doing strong drugs, smoking, and drinking almost every waking moment. It was the only things keeping my demons at bay. I then picked up writing. And started pouring my feelings out onto blank sheets of papers. My coping methods helped but it still strayed me away from certain things, like human contact. I tried to date, but the thought of doing anything with anyone always made me sick to my stomach and soon after that, the relationship would end. I always explained to whomever I dated that it wasn’t their fault for that, but they ended up calling me a conceded jerk and walking away. So eventually I quit trying. I got myself through the rest of high school and bounced from job to job until I found the one that I was currently employed at. While being currently employed, I decided to go back to school for a little while and get a little bit of college studies under my belt just in case my dream of being a musician didn’t pan out.




But around my 20th birthday, my luck changed ever so slightly. I was introduced to a group of guys at my school who were trying to form a band of their own. I auditioned for them, and we hit it off. Eventually my writings became songs. And those songs became an album. We all had the same dream of becoming rock stars. But unfortunately, due to my bad habits, it quickly drew that dream to a close. We released our album but it didn’t do very well. And the band couldn’t work with someone who was constantly under the influence, so they kicked me out. And so now here I sit, just a few weeks shy of my 23rd birthday and not one ounce closer to achieving my dream I so wholeheartedly desire...













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