Old Work--New Re-write~
It’s in the nature of humans to choose what they want to see and make observations about others according to their own insight. Sometimes however, things or people rather, aren’t always what they seem. For D.J. Crane, a second year seminary student at St. Mary’s College, this was his personal premise.
The ringing of his alarm clock continued for one full minute before he rolled over and threw the old wind up against the wall across the dorm room. Waking up each morning was the simple act he dreaded most. He used his fists to clear the night of sleep from his puffy pink cotton candy colored eyes. When he sat up, as he did each morning in the twin bed, the image in the vanity mirror looked directly at him. His normally tanned but now pale face startled him somewhat. Using his hands he attempted to tame his mop of long thick and now messy brunette hair. Haircuts and grooming took last place on the seminary’s list of to do’s. He took slow deep breaths to calm his early morning anxiety reminding himself that he did this every morning and even though he hated daytime it was going to be like every other. When he stood on the scale he realized that he again lost another five pounds this week. The food he ate in the cafeteria three times a day made him sick, literally. He could hardly stand to take two bites of the “slop”, and the lack of nutrition was beginning to take its toll on his once strong but still young frame.
He walked across the ice box sized room with its drab curtains and one window, rusty sink, and small vanity desk, and opened up the closet door. He sighed as he looked over his wardrobe. Before the seminary, he had many fashionable outfits and an impressive collection of pricey shoes. Now only three t-shirts hung on hangers along with five charcoal colored monk robes. At the bottom of the closet was one pair of slip on gray shoes that were surely purchased at a thrift store.
As he began his normal five minute routine of dressing and attempting to fix his too long and thick hair, the whites of his immense brown eyes cleared up, and glimpsed the photo that hung on the wall hidden by the curtains that whipped with the wind from the open window. When he grabbed the dusty frame from off of the wall, he fell back into a seated position onto his hard bed. He loved his family and missed them so.
After five minutes of holding the picture close to his chest, he wiped his face with a towel to rid the stickiness of warm salty tears. “Tighten up D.J. you won’t be here much longer”, he told himself just before he walked out of his dorm room.
D.J. was stopped halfway down the hall by Jonathan. Jonathan was in his first semester of his first year at the seminary. Most of the students at St. Mary’s found it difficult to believe that he aspired to be a priest. His gripping good looks, tight muscular body, and flawless face read like he was a girl’s type of guy.
“Hey D.J.”, Jonathan yelled in D.J.’s direction while closing and locking his dorm room door.
“Hey Jonathan. How was your night?” D.J. smiled as he waited for a response.
“Well I got through it, that’s about all I could say.” Jonathan’s expressionless face eventually changed as he smiled back.
“Good. Glad to hear it.” D.J. responded. Several students stared as they walked by. In the other student’s opinions Jonathan was not the ideal candidate for the priesthood, and though most students generally liked D.J., there were rumors surrounding D.J. and Jonathan’s relationship. D.J. tried not to involve himself with rumors, and even thought he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he tried to keep his relationship with Jonathan as “hush, hush” as he possibly could.
“Sorry Jonathan, but I’ll be late for class if I don’t start walking over now.” He shot Jonathan yet another one of his warm and friendly smiles that everyone had come to love and walked away.
After turning his back to Jonathan and observing that no one was around, he let his lip quiver a bit fighting the urge to cry. Jonathan was his only true friend at St. Mary’s, but he couldn’t let anyone else know about their special bond. Being at St. Mary’s and getting through only two more years was the only thing that stopped him to be open with the rest of the students about their relationship.
After exiting the dorm building D.J. slowed his pace a bit to enjoy the lush green gardens, and the beautiful spring morning. Sometimes his morning strolls through the gardens was the single action that made him a little more stronger, and perhaps was what allowed him to make it this far in school without having a full on breakdown.
Groups of young seminary students stood together waving and smiling as D.J. passed by. One group of guys that he knew quite well from his debate class handed D.J. a flyer while greeting him. D.J. read the invitation to the late night reading party at the small café in the union. He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the garbage can by a bench, and sat for a moment to savor the gardens and his energy bar.
The day progressed as usual. He listened closely and took notes, as the professors spoke in their British accents. Accents that he had admired all of his childhood, and wished he could possess. According to his mother and father, he was beginning to sound like a Brit. He didn’t believe it much since he couldn’t hear it in his own voice when he spoke. Turns out they were right though. His voice was deep, and the accent was spreading on thick. It’s safe to assume that four years of talking and listening to the other’s accents, you would at least start to pick some of it up.
Something was different today though. The Vice-Rector was acting strange during his Latin lecture, as if he were afraid to look D.J. in the eyes like he usually did everyday; nodding at him for agreement and acceptance. D.J. was always keen to picking up these subtle clues that others didn’t. Any deviation from the norm D.J. was sure to notice.
After class, the Vice-Rector Reverend Thomas Mary, asked him to stay for a while to “have a word with him.”
“D.J. we need to talk.” He spoke with the same monotone voice D.J.’s father had used for so many years. As the Reverend spoke, D.J. felt the lump in his throat rise. He felt the burning sensation build within his eyes. No matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t allow himself to cry.
The “talk” didn’t take very long. The Reverend said what he had to say, and made his point in a hurry. Now D.J. found himself inside his jail cell, only now that’s truly what it was, a jail cell indeed. He dusted off the paper from the top of the stack that sat on his small desk in the corner of his room. It had been there for years untouched, but today he would use it. With his fingers weak from grief, barley able to hold the heavy metal pen upright, he wrote.
Dear Mother,
I’m afraid I’ve some terrible news. Upon conclusion of my level two year, I was summoned to the Vice-Rector’s office. Rev. Thomas Mary informed me that I was no longer able to continue my studies at this seminary. Unfortunately, there have been some reports of my rather embarrassing and incriminating behavior here on campus. When the rector and the dean of studies got wind of these so called “immoral acts” I was immediately abolished from the program.
It pains me so to tell you of these acts in which I engaged myself. I understand now why you had me placed here all alone in this foreign country. I know of your embarrassment of me. I know now, but at the time I didn’t. Mother, I love you just as much as I love the Lord in which I was willing to serve for the rest of my days, but something evil has overtaken my soul. Something mother, that I can not control. Something that you have know and seen in me for a long time.
I did it. I engaged myself in a sexual relationship with a young level one seminarian. Mother I am a homosexual. I’m sorry for the pain this must cause you and father. I’m sorry for the embarrassment inflicted upon our family, but I can’t hide forever behind the persona of the priesthood. In a very awkward way, I am glad that I’ve been caught, and that now you know about my secrets. I love this young seminarian whose name is Jonathan. I’ve loved him for a long time now. Please try to deal with this in the utmost respect for me and my life, just as I have done for you and Father and your choices in life.
I will not return to the states. You will never again have to worry about me being an embracement among our family. I will disappear into the dark night outside of these holy walls, as I am being forced out. Don’t ever forget my love for you and Father and my brother and sister. Tell them everyday how much I care, and please take care of yourself. For my life there in the states is over, as is my life here at St. Mary’s. I am about to embark upon a new chapter of my life, one which you will not respect, but nonetheless one that I have chosen to lead. May the mercy of the sacred heart of Jesus be with you, and the love of the virgin guide you, for you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you.
Respectfully Yours,
Your Son D.J
****************
The ending paragraph follows the last post.....please read on thanks..........
It’s in the nature of humans to choose what they want to see and make observations about others according to their own insight. Sometimes however, things or people rather, aren’t always what they seem. For D.J. Crane, a second year seminary student at St. Mary’s College, this was his personal premise.
The ringing of his alarm clock continued for one full minute before he rolled over and threw the old wind up against the wall across the dorm room. Waking up each morning was the simple act he dreaded most. He used his fists to clear the night of sleep from his puffy pink cotton candy colored eyes. When he sat up, as he did each morning in the twin bed, the image in the vanity mirror looked directly at him. His normally tanned but now pale face startled him somewhat. Using his hands he attempted to tame his mop of long thick and now messy brunette hair. Haircuts and grooming took last place on the seminary’s list of to do’s. He took slow deep breaths to calm his early morning anxiety reminding himself that he did this every morning and even though he hated daytime it was going to be like every other. When he stood on the scale he realized that he again lost another five pounds this week. The food he ate in the cafeteria three times a day made him sick, literally. He could hardly stand to take two bites of the “slop”, and the lack of nutrition was beginning to take its toll on his once strong but still young frame.
He walked across the ice box sized room with its drab curtains and one window, rusty sink, and small vanity desk, and opened up the closet door. He sighed as he looked over his wardrobe. Before the seminary, he had many fashionable outfits and an impressive collection of pricey shoes. Now only three t-shirts hung on hangers along with five charcoal colored monk robes. At the bottom of the closet was one pair of slip on gray shoes that were surely purchased at a thrift store.
As he began his normal five minute routine of dressing and attempting to fix his too long and thick hair, the whites of his immense brown eyes cleared up, and glimpsed the photo that hung on the wall hidden by the curtains that whipped with the wind from the open window. When he grabbed the dusty frame from off of the wall, he fell back into a seated position onto his hard bed. He loved his family and missed them so.
After five minutes of holding the picture close to his chest, he wiped his face with a towel to rid the stickiness of warm salty tears. “Tighten up D.J. you won’t be here much longer”, he told himself just before he walked out of his dorm room.
D.J. was stopped halfway down the hall by Jonathan. Jonathan was in his first semester of his first year at the seminary. Most of the students at St. Mary’s found it difficult to believe that he aspired to be a priest. His gripping good looks, tight muscular body, and flawless face read like he was a girl’s type of guy.
“Hey D.J.”, Jonathan yelled in D.J.’s direction while closing and locking his dorm room door.
“Hey Jonathan. How was your night?” D.J. smiled as he waited for a response.
“Well I got through it, that’s about all I could say.” Jonathan’s expressionless face eventually changed as he smiled back.
“Good. Glad to hear it.” D.J. responded. Several students stared as they walked by. In the other student’s opinions Jonathan was not the ideal candidate for the priesthood, and though most students generally liked D.J., there were rumors surrounding D.J. and Jonathan’s relationship. D.J. tried not to involve himself with rumors, and even thought he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he tried to keep his relationship with Jonathan as “hush, hush” as he possibly could.
“Sorry Jonathan, but I’ll be late for class if I don’t start walking over now.” He shot Jonathan yet another one of his warm and friendly smiles that everyone had come to love and walked away.
After turning his back to Jonathan and observing that no one was around, he let his lip quiver a bit fighting the urge to cry. Jonathan was his only true friend at St. Mary’s, but he couldn’t let anyone else know about their special bond. Being at St. Mary’s and getting through only two more years was the only thing that stopped him to be open with the rest of the students about their relationship.
After exiting the dorm building D.J. slowed his pace a bit to enjoy the lush green gardens, and the beautiful spring morning. Sometimes his morning strolls through the gardens was the single action that made him a little more stronger, and perhaps was what allowed him to make it this far in school without having a full on breakdown.
Groups of young seminary students stood together waving and smiling as D.J. passed by. One group of guys that he knew quite well from his debate class handed D.J. a flyer while greeting him. D.J. read the invitation to the late night reading party at the small café in the union. He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the garbage can by a bench, and sat for a moment to savor the gardens and his energy bar.
The day progressed as usual. He listened closely and took notes, as the professors spoke in their British accents. Accents that he had admired all of his childhood, and wished he could possess. According to his mother and father, he was beginning to sound like a Brit. He didn’t believe it much since he couldn’t hear it in his own voice when he spoke. Turns out they were right though. His voice was deep, and the accent was spreading on thick. It’s safe to assume that four years of talking and listening to the other’s accents, you would at least start to pick some of it up.
Something was different today though. The Vice-Rector was acting strange during his Latin lecture, as if he were afraid to look D.J. in the eyes like he usually did everyday; nodding at him for agreement and acceptance. D.J. was always keen to picking up these subtle clues that others didn’t. Any deviation from the norm D.J. was sure to notice.
After class, the Vice-Rector Reverend Thomas Mary, asked him to stay for a while to “have a word with him.”
“D.J. we need to talk.” He spoke with the same monotone voice D.J.’s father had used for so many years. As the Reverend spoke, D.J. felt the lump in his throat rise. He felt the burning sensation build within his eyes. No matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t allow himself to cry.
The “talk” didn’t take very long. The Reverend said what he had to say, and made his point in a hurry. Now D.J. found himself inside his jail cell, only now that’s truly what it was, a jail cell indeed. He dusted off the paper from the top of the stack that sat on his small desk in the corner of his room. It had been there for years untouched, but today he would use it. With his fingers weak from grief, barley able to hold the heavy metal pen upright, he wrote.
Dear Mother,
I’m afraid I’ve some terrible news. Upon conclusion of my level two year, I was summoned to the Vice-Rector’s office. Rev. Thomas Mary informed me that I was no longer able to continue my studies at this seminary. Unfortunately, there have been some reports of my rather embarrassing and incriminating behavior here on campus. When the rector and the dean of studies got wind of these so called “immoral acts” I was immediately abolished from the program.
It pains me so to tell you of these acts in which I engaged myself. I understand now why you had me placed here all alone in this foreign country. I know of your embarrassment of me. I know now, but at the time I didn’t. Mother, I love you just as much as I love the Lord in which I was willing to serve for the rest of my days, but something evil has overtaken my soul. Something mother, that I can not control. Something that you have know and seen in me for a long time.
I did it. I engaged myself in a sexual relationship with a young level one seminarian. Mother I am a homosexual. I’m sorry for the pain this must cause you and father. I’m sorry for the embarrassment inflicted upon our family, but I can’t hide forever behind the persona of the priesthood. In a very awkward way, I am glad that I’ve been caught, and that now you know about my secrets. I love this young seminarian whose name is Jonathan. I’ve loved him for a long time now. Please try to deal with this in the utmost respect for me and my life, just as I have done for you and Father and your choices in life.
I will not return to the states. You will never again have to worry about me being an embracement among our family. I will disappear into the dark night outside of these holy walls, as I am being forced out. Don’t ever forget my love for you and Father and my brother and sister. Tell them everyday how much I care, and please take care of yourself. For my life there in the states is over, as is my life here at St. Mary’s. I am about to embark upon a new chapter of my life, one which you will not respect, but nonetheless one that I have chosen to lead. May the mercy of the sacred heart of Jesus be with you, and the love of the virgin guide you, for you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you.
Respectfully Yours,
Your Son D.J
****************
The ending paragraph follows the last post.....please read on thanks..........
I'm not positive, but I think this is called a split infinitive. Could be the wrong term, but it would be better if the subject and verb were closer together. This will eliminate the confusion.