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| Castor & Ryan Hetfield tell it how it is; A slant on the Hetfield Family. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 5, 2008, 5:06 pm (12,015 Views) | |
| Lady Hammett | July 29, 2011, 2:09 pm Post #211 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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I couldn’t believe Ryan. He wouldn’t get over the fact that Brooke and I were corresponding with one another. But like I said, I would never have put Ryan over Brooke. He had been there for me way more than Brooke ever had, and we had tons more in common. So I gently backed down from writing to Brooke, decreasing the frequency of my letters. I know this probably offended her, but I didn’t know how else to react. I refused to lose Ryan, or Shayne and Sue if we ever found them again. James and Francesca were trying to correspond to both Ryan and me, but I backed off from them too. I wasn’t sure whether I could ever see them as my parents again. Then again, had I ever really seen them that way? Ryan certainly hadn’t. I made excuses to everyone. After all, my sons were dead, and I hadn’t even been able to attend their funerals. That pained me beyond reproach. I couldn’t even be there to hold my wife’s hand as they lowered our children into the ground. How low could life get? So I told the Hetfields I was backing off because of the pain I was going through. They gave me my space through that. But then I started to regret it. I had lost my two boys, my flesh and blood. Now other flesh and blood were trying to keep a relationship with me, and I was pushing them away. I needed all the people in my life that I could to support me. However, I wouldn’t risk losing Ryan, I reminded myself. And I had my wife Chessi’s support too. These two thoughts swirled around my head forever. Finally I had to face the music when Brooke wrote me a letter saying that she still had contact with Virgil. At first I got angry. But then I realized she was trying to get him to tell her where the kids were. That I could respect. Ryan, on the other hand, got more suspicious that they still had contact. He said they were up to no good together and he would have none of it. He told me flat out that I must not have contact with Brooke any longer. But I still kept writing . . . |
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| Lady Hammett | July 29, 2011, 2:35 pm Post #212 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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When I learned that Cali was still corresponding with Virgil, I nearly hit the ceiling. I did not want to talk to James, though he wanted to talk to me. Eventually I had to face the music – I was in his former band, after all, and the other guys in the band still talked to him all the time. There was no avoiding him. He insisted on joining the latest tour. Man. That meant that I was never going to get rid of him. But the latest tour was on hold, because I insisted on waiting several months to hear about Sue or Shayne. So one day, we all ended up at James and Francesca’s house. They insisted on holding a dinner for the band. To be polite, I went along. Chessi came with me to keep me sane, thank God. I had not been in this house in years. It seemed tiny now that I was a grown adult, and a tall one at that. But everything basically looked the same – the living room where they had discussed me being slow, the vent that came out into the living room where I eavesdropped on them frequently . . . As I looked around the house, James was staring at me intently. “You’re finally home, son,” he commented. I said nothing. And neither did Kirk, Lars, Jason, or Chessi. I knew Cali would say something, though – and she did. “Must be weird, being back in this house that you hated?” she piped in. Finally, I replied, “It’s definitely been a long time.” “Were you here when I was born?” she continued. “Um, yeah, for a short while. After we toured and everything.” “Well, how about a snack with Cali’s homemade jam?” Francesca interrupted us. She was great at changing the subject! “A little late to snack, considering we’re having dinner soon,” James interjected. And since James always got his way as man of the house, his decision prevailed. Some things never changed! I had no desire to speak to Cali, but I faked being polite the whole time I was there. Don’t ask me how. Then again, Cali kept wanting to talk to me. Finally, she asked that we go upstairs for “old times sake”. “I want you to show me your old room,” she said. Gee whiz. What was her problem? Then a horrible thought came to my head. What if she wanted sex, like she was notorious for? With her own half-brother? Maybe she figured, since we weren’t raised together, it would be okay? Since we were only half-related? I braced myself when we got upstairs. But instead of trying to pull something of that nature, Cali hissed, “Ryan, I’ve got to talk to you. I’ve been talking to Grandpop lately, and I think he knows where Shayne and Sue are.” I groaned. “Cali, of course he knows where Shayne and Sue are. I was there. He kidnapped us. I don’t know what he’s done to them, but he’ll never tell you. I don’t care whether you call him Grandpop. And why did he fake his death?” “He and Dad were fighting. It was over personal matters.” I rolled my eyes. What was wrong with this family? Then it dawned on me. “Cali, do you know where my children are? Cos if you do, you’d better tell me NOW.” “No! I swear I don’t! I’m trying to get him to spill.” I looked hard into her eyes. She wasn’t as tall as my wonderful Stephanie had been, which was surprising, since everybody in our family ended up exceptionally tall. But she was close to six foot, still tall for a female. She still had blond hair the color of straw. Her features were now haggard from life’s rich tapestry of booze, drugs and sex. Still, her blue eyes were remarkably the same as all those years ago when I had held her as a baby. Weird, right? “Really,” she insisted. I couldn’t tell whether she was lying, but I assumed she was. She was a Hetfield, Daddy’s girl, and she always would be. I would never trust her. “If you have done anything to my babies, or know that Virgil has, you won’t live to regret it!” I hissed in her face, before turning to go downstairs. Forget about showing her my old room! When we returned downstairs, it was time to prepare dinner. James didn’t cook much, and I always figured he didn’t expect boys to help in the kitchen. But he immediately ordered me to go into the kitchen to help “my mother”. Chessi was already there offering her services to be polite. When Kirk offered to help, James said no. “You are guests,” he explained to the rest of the guys. “This is my son, so he should help in my home.” Weird. Would he have ordered Castor to help when they were on good terms? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I personally believe all children should help in the home regardless of gender, and that was the way I raised Sue and Shayne. But remember, this was the Hetfield household, the household where everything was backwards. And usually boys in this home were expected to be macho – something Castor and I just couldn’t pull off. I bet Cali wouldn’t have to help, I thought. She was Daddy’s favorite. But to my surprise, she did set the table. After that though, she was done. She plopped down next to Lars while they watched TV. I prepared some salads and worked the grill. We ate steak, mashed potatoes, and cole slaw. Typical American food. At first I felt like I was nine years old and a child in this house again. But then I realized that I had spent much of my time grounded, away from my father and stepmother, not helping in the kitchen. Strangely enough, it was a nice change of pace. When we were done eating though, I made my excuses and split. Wouldn’t you say that was enough for one day? |
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| Lady Hammett | August 1, 2011, 4:04 pm Post #213 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Cali wrote me a letter about Ryan coming over. She insisted that she was keeping in contact with Virgil because he knew where Sue and Shayne were, and was trying to get him to confess their whereabouts. She was trying to play the sweet favorite granddaughter worthy of knowing his deepest secrets. But I doubt she could succeed. See, none of us grew up with Virgil. Virgil faked his death in 1996, when he was somewhere close to seventy years old. Now, he would be over ninety. I couldn’t believe what good shape he was in for his age! But I knew that the elderly sometimes had surprises when it came to strength. I knew I had to write to Ryan and asked him if he knew anything about Virgil. If anybody had grown up knowing Virgil as a grandfather, Ryan would be the only one old enough. I figured Ryan had not enjoyed going over to James and Francesca’s house. He confirmed how awkward it was entering that house again, remembering the woes of his childhood there. I later learned that my room was once his. Dad had purged everything of Ryan’s from that room because he was so angry, then when I was born, turned it into my room. That made sense. That was the only room in the house where you could listen through the vent to hear people in the living room. I was proud knowing we had shared that room, along with all the other things we had in common growing up there. Finally I picked up a pen and wrote to Ryan asking him what he knew about Virgil. |
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| Lady Hammett | August 1, 2011, 4:05 pm Post #214 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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I received a letter from Castor asking all about Virgil Hetfield. At first I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t seen Virgil much as a child, but I must admit, I had enough memories to write a thing or two about the guy. Virgil had been much like James, really. He was gruff, macho, and demanding. Looking back as an adult I could understand why James turned out the way he had. The first encounter I had with Virgil, or “Grandpop”, as Dad had me call him, was when I was about three years old. I was riding around on a plastic tricycle in the driveway. We were on a short break from the long Black Album tour, and soon to depart, so Virgil had to hurry up and spend time with James and me. Francesca was not yet in the picture, so that was the best part. But James was James, and Virgil was Virgil. They were two crusty old men that didn’t think I was tough enough even at the tender age of three. Virgil put his foot in front of my tricycle and told me to get up. He said I was going to learn how to fish the next day. We were all going out to the river to be men. I just wanted to be a little boy, playing with the three kids next door – I don’t remember their names, but it was a boy and two girls. And their parents didn’t care if their son played dolls and house with the girls at all. They knew he was outnumbered and figured it would all even out in the end. When they played house, I always ended up playing the dad, married to one of the girls, and the other two played the kids. James frowned upon it, but figured at least I was man of the house. Virgil, on the other hand, wouldn’t have it. That’s why he slammed his foot down in front of me on the tricycle and decided we were going to go fishing together the next day. I remember Virgil dragging me out of bed before the butt crack of dawn. He fed me mushy oatmeal, then made black coffee. He made me drink a little, and it tasted disgusting. To this day I will never drink coffee. I now realize that it was black, and would have tasted fine with milk or cream, but I still can’t stand to drink it because of what Virgil did. Then James got up. He didn’t drink much of the coffee, but had a beer. Virgil criticized him for drinking so early in the morning, but James brought two 12-packs of Coors Light with him on our fishing trip. And he still didn't think it was enough! I was bored during the fishing trip. Every time I had to go to the bathroom, Virgil made me pee over the side of the boat. I hated peeing with people watching me! But they wouldn’t pull ashore. So here we go again, so this day, I can’t stand to pee on the side of the road like many guys do. I have to be in a stall or bathroom, with the door locked tight! James drank so much beer that he pissed off the side of the boat many times. Consequently they didn’t catch any fish. Virgil hoped they would so they could teach me how to scale a fish. I was glad I didn’t have to dig a knife into a fish and have to deal with yukky fish guts. That must have been August or September of 1992. I couldn’t wait to go back on tour to get away from Virgil, and luckily we did just a few weeks later. Virgil offered to take me on while James finished the tour, so he could “make me a man”, but James declined. He reminded his father that he was not going to let somebody else raise his son while he was on the road. Thank God for that – yes, there were worse people than James in this world! The rest of my encounters with Virgil were very similar – always trying to make me “man up” and play sports. But I hated sports. I wanted to play bass, and since his own son was in music, I guess Virgil got over it enough to stop bugging me. He didn’t like the fact that James and I had long hair, though. And when James cut it shortly before his “death”, he asked that I get it cut too. But I refused. Then, when Virgil wrote to us saying he was dying in early 1996 – we were on the Load tour, and Francesca was now in the picture – James asked me to cut my hair to honor “Grandpop’s” wish. But I still refused. Francesca decided she didn’t care, so James didn’t press the issue. Then Virgil supposedly died, barely even seventy, in 1996, long before my birthday that year. I may have only been six years old, but I knew people in general usually lived a little longer than that. There was no way I could have known that he faked his death, though! So I told Castor the few rare, horrible experiences I’d had with Virgil Hetfield. It was no surprise to me that he would fake his death, pretend to be somebody named Zecharias Tisdale, and hunt us down. It did not surprise me that he would try to kidnap us and ruin our lives. What did surprise me was his age. I hoped I’d be in that great shape by the age of ninety! Now if he’d only tell us where MY CHILDREN were! Edited by Lady Hammett, August 11, 2011, 7:32 pm.
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| faroo7luvsmetallica | August 3, 2011, 10:10 am Post #215 |
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Girl You Stank Take a BATH!
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DA-AMN!! hope ryan can find his kids!! more |
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| Freyja | August 4, 2011, 10:08 am Post #216 |
Outlaw Torn
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Very interesting story, keep it up! And I hope the time traveling sub-plot isn't scrapped out altogether! |
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| Lady Hammett | August 5, 2011, 2:33 pm Post #217 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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When Ryan told me about Virgil and the way he was treated by him, it didn’t surprise me one bit. Of course Virgil had to be more macho than James, and it made sense that James turned out the way he did. Still pretty messed up though, right? But something irked me a little. If Virgil had been around seventy when he supposedly died, he’d now be well over ninety . . . could anybody really be in that great shape at age 90? Able to kidnap somebody? Something was definitely wrong with this family! I continued to write to Brooke. She claimed that Virgil definitely knew where the kids were. She also stated she had a lead, but was having trouble locating the people the children were supposedly with. I wondered whether I could take her seriously or not. A few months went by. Ryan finally decided to go back on tour, hard as it was. But there was good news for me and Marcella. We were going to be released for good behavior. Don’t even ask me how we got that lucky – I still don’t get how the systems work in this good old nation we call America. All I know was that since we didn’t kill anybody, they had no grounds to hold us in the first place, and because we weren’t supposed to be incarcerated in the first place AND had good behavior since our last incarceration, we were going to be let out on parole. Brooke was happy for me getting out. She insisted that myself, Marcella, and her all have a family meeting once we got out. It was going to be weird – the three of us had not been together as a “family” in years! But we had to work together to get Shayne and Sue back. I was released from prison just after my twenty-fourth birthday – May 25, 2024. My little niece Sue would be eleven now! I hoped she was still alive. I lamented that my sons had not even been school age when they died, but at just twenty-four years old, I had plenty of life ahead of me. Maybe there would be more children – I hoped there would. They wouldn’t replace Daniel or Nicky, but at least there was plenty of time to start a new family. I breathed in the fresh air of freedom, then picked up my cell phone to call my sisters . . . |
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| Lady Hammett | August 5, 2011, 2:44 pm Post #218 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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It was hard, but I slammed all my energy into the new tour and tried not to think about my problems. We were in Turkey when Castor and Marcella were released from prison. I wished I could be there to pick Castor up at least, but that would not be so. I knew Cali was calling a meeting with them both. Damn! I wished I were there so I could put a stop to that. I should be the one talking to them, not her. I figured she was probably lying about Virgil knowing where the kids were, and using that lie to get something from Castor. Wasn’t his kidney enough? So when Castor called telling me Cali knew where Sue and Shayne were, and the four of them (he, Marcella, Cali, and Chessi) were going to go look for them using the leads they had, I lost it. “She is lying, Castor,” I snapped. I knew he would rather be called Jacob, but I didn’t care. “No she isn’t,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t you be happy knowing I did everything I could to find your kids?” I hesitated. The answer was yes. But I didn’t trust Cali, and felt like Cali was trying to trip him up. “She is not trying to trip me up. And if she was, I could handle it.” I groaned. I didn’t agree with any of this, but Castor was a grown man now. Chessi, I knew, was in the middle. She agreed with me that Cali was lying. But now that her husband was out of prison she was thrilled to be with him, and was going to support him at any length. I could appreciate that because I would have done anything to have Stephanie back. But I still thought they were making the wrong decision. But then I received a phone call that perked my ears up. This one was from Cali directly. She left a message, given that I wouldn’t answer her call. And on that message she mentioned that the children were at Gunshot. I was surprised, but took it with a grain of salt. Anybody could make that up. They all knew I had escaped there when I was nine years old. But then Cali said something about the kids being housed in the Nations area. Whoa. I hadn’t ever gone over the geography of Gunshot with anyone, and only people who had actually been there would know much about it. That was too much of a detail to ignore. Man. Now I had to realize that something was up. I wasn’t going to cancel the tour over it (it was a short one), but I knew that as soon as the tour was over, I was going to have to face all of them. |
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| Lady Hammett | August 14, 2011, 4:40 pm Post #219 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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So apparently, Brooke got Virgil to confess that the children were being hidden in the Nations area of Gunshot. I wanted to go to the police immediately. But Brooke insisted that Virgil was not going to tell us any more if we contacted the authorities, and if we couldn’t find the kids in the so-called Nations area, we would be done. “That’s a bunch of bullshit blackmail!” I shouted. “He’s playing games with you, Brooke. I’m calling the cops anyway.” So as you can imagine, we got in a huge fight. We ended up divided. Chessi and I wanted to go to the police, Marcella and Francesca weren’t sure, and Brooke and James thought they should comply with Virgil’s wishes. James sat us all down in his house one night. He told us what kind of man Virgil was, and it wasn’t far from Ryan’s testimony. “See my dad, he calls the shots, whether it’s for people’s own good or not,” James explained to us (gee, sound like somebody else we know?). “When I was a kid, it was his way or the highway. And that included when he left home. I was thirteen, old enough to know that what he was doing was wrong, but he insisted that it was okay. He said sometimes men had to do that, to ‘find themselves’, which made no sense. And that’s why all of you children should be grateful that no matter how many times we’ve disagreed, I have always stayed. I have never left you kids.” Gee whiz. Was he going to chastise us now? That he was in the right just because he didn’t leave his family like his father had? I didn’t want to hear this. But luckily, he got to the point. “Anyway, we had to play his game in order to have a relationship with him. He left us, but when he decided he wanted to be back in our lives, we had to go along with what he wanted. Otherwise we would lose him for good. I was an adult then. All I’m saying is that we need to do what he says if we want the kids back.” This was crap. But of course, I didn’t know Virgil at all, so how could I argue? Brooke didn’t know him either, though she pretended she did. But really he was just getting her into a game. We all knew that. So in the end we decided to wait until Ryan got back. He, as a former member, could enter Gunshot with the right paperwork. It was going to be up to him to find the kids. |
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| And Jason For All | July 5, 2012, 11:38 pm Post #220 |
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Bad Seed
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I've been reading your story for 2 days straight and I love it! Please write more!
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| And Jason For All | July 8, 2012, 3:57 am Post #221 |
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Bad Seed
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More Please!
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Please write more!

8:49 PM Jul 10