Jonathan Lumbert: Another Lackadaisy Oc Story

Leaving A Terrible Family

I quietly gathered my belongings, determined to escape this stifling family situation. My hand rested on the front door knob, and just as I was about to make my exit, I heard a door open behind me.

Father: Jon! Go back to bed!

Startled, I dropped my suitcases and turned to face him.

Jonathan: Dad, I'm 18. You can't keep me here.

I reached for the doorknob once more.

Father: You're not walking through that door, Jon!

Jonathan: Watch me!

I flung the front door open, stormed out, and let it slam shut behind me. With determination, I hopped into the waiting car, started the engine, and drove away, leaving my father running after me in the rearview mirror. As I drove, I couldn't help but reflect on my life up until this point. I had been born in the quiet town of Portland, Michigan. My father's uncontrollable anger had cast a dark shadow over our family, causing countless issues. My mother had eventually made the difficult decision to leave him, taking my little sister with her to New York. I, however, remained with my father, enduring a series of physical and emotional abuses - slaps, throws, burns, and even the horrifying memory of being struck with a glass bottle. Now, with the past behind me, I was on the road to St. Louis, Missouri, in search of my uncle Jameson. I held onto hope that he was safe and well, as this new journey represented a glimmer of optimism amidst the darkness of my past.

(3 days later)

After a long and arduous journey to St. Louis, which involved abandoning my car due to a flat tire and hitchhiking, I finally arrived in the city. Wearing a backpack, I embarked on the task of searching for my uncle.

Jonathan: This is gonna take forever.

(3 hours later)

Exhausted and with sore feet, I took a seat on a bench, burying my face in my hands, my shoulders slumping in frustration. Doubts about the wisdom of my decision crept in. Leaning back, I gazed up at the sky.

Jonathan: Can't go home, can't leave. I'm stuck.

Suddenly, a well-dressed man with black and white fur approached me, his presence emanating an unsettling darkness.

Man: Why are you talking to yourself?

I glanced up at him, my guard up.

Jonathan: Was it bothering you?

Man: No, just curious why.

I couldn't shake the feeling that this man held a dangerous aura about him.

Jonathan: Just thinking out loud.

I noticed the man's raised eyebrow before he strolled away. Curiosity getting the better of me, I decided to discreetly follow him, taking care to hide whenever he glanced back. My pursuit led me to a crowded hotel, and I slipped in, hoping to spot the mysterious individual.

As I blended into the crowd, I noticed him briefly looking in my direction. Nervously, I turned around and merged with the people around me. When I glanced back, he had disappeared. Determined to find him, I began searching but ended up bumping into someone.

Jonathan: Sorry for that.

Woman: You better be.

With my pursuit of the enigmatic man temporarily derailed, I found myself in an unexpected encounter with a disgruntled woman.

Jonathan: It was a accident.

As I walked away from the encounter with the woman in the marigold-adorned suit, my determination to find the mysterious man remained undeterred. Spotting him entering a backroom, I pushed my way through the crowd and reached for the door handle. To my surprise, the door swung inward, and I stumbled into the room, only to find myself staring down the barrel of an M1911. The man demanded to know my purpose.

Man: What are you doing here?

Jonathan: Trying to find you.

Man: Why?

Jonathan: To learn about you.

I pressed my head slightly onto the gun's barrel.

Jonathan: Who are you?

The man withdrew the gun from my head and signaled to someone nearby. Before I could react, a forceful kick to my face sent me sprawling, and I lost consciousness.

(Chapter End)