New Story

I was just fourteen when I met him.  He lived across the street and he was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen.  His brown hair curled up around his ears from under his baseball cap.  His eyes were as blue as the sky and had a shine just as bright as the sun.  He had a tattoo that was visible on his right hand, not a professional one but a cross that was hand drawn, in that soft spot right between your thumb and pointer finger. He wore a chain that connected from his wallet in his back pocket to the belt loop in the front.    

I was new in the neighborhood.  We had moved so many times that I was beginning to lose count.  I was quiet, insecure and didn’t make new friends quickly.  My family didn’t make things any easier.  Thank god that my mom finally left Tim, but the trade in wasn’t much better.  At least Mark didn’t touch me the way Tim had, but he more than made up for it with his constant degrading remarks.  Our home was always filthy now and neither my mom or Mark worked; we lived off of food-stamps and the monthly welfare check that my mom got.  

I was sitting outside on the hood of Mark’s pick-up truck reading a book when I first noticed Gary.  The sun was bright and the breeze was warm, and as he made his way across the street I noticed he had a swagger to his walk and a confidence I had never seen before.  I tried to pretend that I didn’t notice him as I secretly stole glances.  

Out of the corner of my eye I could see him getting closer and closer. What was he doing?  Where was he going?  Oh my god! Is he coming over here?  Oh my god! Stay calm!  What does he want?  What should I say?  How do I look?  I had just pulled my hair up into a ponytail and the warm sun was making me sweat and the little lisps of hair around my forehead were beginning to curl and frizz.  

“Hi”, he said.

I gingerly looked up and peered at him over the top of my book.

“Hello”, I said back as I nonchalantly wiped my forehead with my hand, hoping to smooth down my hair.  

“You just move in?”  

“Yup”,  I said as I bit my lower lip to keep it from quivering.  That’s it, that all I said?  I had to come up with something else to say.  Think, Megan, think!  

“Do you live over there across the street?”    

“Yup,” he said as he took his baseball cap off and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His hat left a funny ring around his head and I could see the sweat sparkle in his brown curly hair.

“Will you be going to Taft High School?” he wanted to know.

“Yup,”  I answered back.

“Cool, well, see you around.  I’m Gary, by the way,” he said with a smile and wink.

“I’m Megan, see you around,” my heart was beating so fast and so hard, I was sure he could hear it.  

One week after we met, Gary and I became inseparable.  We were sitting outside on the front step after dark.  The end of summer air was still lingering and the night sky was lit up with all the countless stars.  We talked mostly about easy stuff, the latest block buster movie, what TV shows we liked and which ones we hated.  Suddenly, he took my hand into his.  It caught me off guard and as I jerked it away I looked up and saw the hurt on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said as I looked down at the ground.

“No, I’m sorry.  You just took me by surprise, that’s all,” I said as I looked everywhere else to avoid eye contact with him.

He slid over a little closer to me and ran his hand down my arm and gripped my hand again.  The hair stood up on the back of my neck and I felt each and every little goose bump rear their ugly little heads. It took all the strength I had not to pull away again.  

We sat there the rest of the night talking and holding hands.  I was never able to bring myself to look directly at him again that night.  I couldn’t quite make out my feelings.  I didn’t understand what was happening to me.  I liked Gary. I thought he was cute just as I had thought other boys were cute.  But those other boys were always just out of reach and though I always thought I wanted a boyfriend, I think I was okay with that.  Now, here was a real, live boy; a cute boy, and he was holding my hand.  This is something that I had always dreamed of.  So why couldn’t I shake the feelings of rocks in the pit of my stomach?

I was glad when school started the next week.   I was nervous about starting a new school, but it was nice to get into a routine again.  The school was bigger than any school I had gone to before.  I kept getting lost in hallways and ended up late to a couple of my classes.  

Other than riding the bus together, I did not see Gary at all. He said it was because I was a freshman and he was a sophomore and that our classes were just in different hallways and we had lunch at different times.  I felt lost without him.  

I sat in the back of each of my classes and just observed.  I could tell right away who the popular girls were and easily picked out the jocks.  There were a couple of other kids who looked just as nervous and out of place as I did, but they didn’t even look at me, so I guessed they weren’t interested in making new friends.  All I could think about was hearing that last bell and finally getting to see Gary again.  

The Saturday after our first week of school we were hanging out at Gary’s house.  His mom was worse than my mom when it came to housecleaning and apparently no one else in the house thought much of it either.  The kitchen stunk so bad that I had to hold my breath as I walked through, and I had to walk on tip-toes and carefully watch where I was walking so as not to step on trash from the overflowing trash can.  The sink and counters were piled high with dirty dishes.  Some looked like they had been there for a month or two.  

We walked through the living room where his mom was lounging in the recliner, still in her robe.  I don’t think I’d ever seen her in anything else.  She was surrounded by empty snack packages and fast food containers.

“Well hello, Megan, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Hi Mrs. McConnell,” I said as Gary led me by the hand towards his bedroom.

“What are you kids up to today?”

“Mom, enough with all the questions.  We’re going to hang out in my room and we don’t want to be bothered, got it?”  Gary snapped back at his mom.

After what seemed like completing an Olympic course, we finally made it to his room.  The walls were white with no pictures or posters or anything hanging on them. There was a blanket nailed to the window frame to serve as a curtain; it made the room appear as if it was night despite the bright morning sun.   

Gary walked over to a night stand, turned on a little lamp and then plopped himself down on a mattress that was on the floor.  The sheets had come off, or maybe there weren’t any at all, I really couldn’t tell.  The blankets were all balled up against the wall and he pushed them over and motioned for me to sit down.  

I had to crawl over clothes, dishes and garbage to get there, but I finally made it.  I gingerly sat on the edge of the mattress with my arms wrapped around my knees and I was looking at the floor when Gary tugged on the back of my shirt and pulled me down on the bed.  

I let out a nervous laugh as I went down and I turned on my side to be able to look at him.  He looked over at me as he was lying on his back.  He had a twinkle in his eyes and goofy little grin on mouth that showed just the right combination of lip and teeth. God he was gorgeous!  How did I get so lucky to find someone like him?  I wanted to pinch myself to make sure it was real. 

I didn’t have to, before I knew it, Gary pulled me close to him and planted his lips firmly on mine.  In, I closed my eyes and just went with it.  It was just a short, nice kiss.  The kind of kiss you expect from your mom or your grandma.  I pulled away and played with my hair, a nervous tick I had picked up over the years.  Gary just sat there staring at me with that goofy grin of his.

“What?”  I asked with a little giggle.

“That’s it?”  He wanted to know.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you can do better than that.”  I shot him a look of hurt and confusion.  “Oh, now I get it, was that your first kiss?”  

“Um, um.”  I fought for the right words to say.  “A lady never tells and a gentleman never asks,” I said flirtatiously.

“It was!  It so was! I was your first kiss!”  And with that he pulled me close to him and kissed me again.  Only this time, he practically stuck his tongue down my throat.

“It’s okay,” he whispered as I began to pull away.  “Just relax, follow my lead.”

He held my head in his hands and was playing with my hair a little.  I felt really uncomfortable and wanted to scream for help.  This wasn’t as beautiful as they made it seem on TV or the movies, but I went along with it anyway.  He was my boyfriend and isn’t this what you do when you have a boyfriend?  

We spent the next hour or so just kissing.  I did eventually catch on to this whole kissing thing and I must have been improving, at least that’s what Gary said when we finally came up for air.  The sound of his mom’s voice startled me at first, and when I realized she was hollering that my mom wanted me to go home, I was a little relieved.  

There wasn’t much to do over Christmas break since the weather was so cold and it just kept snowing.  I was glad that Gary just lived across the street.  It was an easy trek to make in the blowing snow.  We hung out over there all the time now.  Being at my house was just too difficult.  

My mom and Mark had begun to notice how much time I was spending with Gary.  I don’t think they would have really cared much except that I was ignoring my chores.  Since neither of them did anything all day, and I wasn’t cleaning anymore the house was beginning to look like Gary’s.  Whenever I was home all I heard was how I was lousy at cleaning and in between condescending remarks, Mark barked orders to me to fetch him a beer or to make my little brother shut up.  

Gary’s house was different.  His older brothers would come and go, often bringing dinner from McDonald’s or Long John Silvers or something like that and they always included me.  His mom never gripped at us to clean and we were free to hold hands and kiss in front her.  His mom actually talked to me and seemed to be genuinely interested in me.  It was more attention than I ever got from my own mother who was too absorbed in caring for my younger brothers and Mark than she was me.  She didn’t even notice I had a boyfriend until Gary and I had been going out for a month.

On the second day of Christmas break I woke up to Mark’s screaming voice for me to get out of bed and do the dishes.  I crawled out of bed and jumped in the shower.  The hot steady stream of water drowned out his voice.  I ran around the house vacuuming and dusting.  I washed the breakfast dishes and the cleaned the bathroom.  I was sitting on the couch putting my boots on when Mark confronted me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”  Mark growled.

“I’m going across the street to see Gary,” I answered back in my own small growl.

“No you’re not.  You are not going anywhere,” he said as my mom walked into the room.

I looked up at my mom for help, but she just shrugged her shoulder’s and went to see why my little brother was hollering.  

“The house is clean and the dishes are done; I’m leaving now.” 

“You will not leave this house!  Is that understood,” Mark screamed at me.

“Why?  I don’t understand.  You’re not my dad, you can’t tell me what to do!” I screamed back.

“You little slut!  All you do is run around with boys.  I know what you are up to and you aren’t allowed to see Gary anymore!”

“Mom!” I hollered, but she didn’t answer.

“Mom, you can’t do this!”  I cried.  I looked up at her; my eyes pleading, begging.  

She looked at Mark and then back at me before she just shrugged her shoulders and walked out of the room.

“This isn’t fair!  You can’t do this to me!  I love him!”  I screamed all the way to my room where I slammed the door shut.  

I must have cried myself to sleep, because when I woke up it was dark out and I heard a faint tapping on my window.  I crawled out of bed and opened the blinds; it was Gary!

“What are you doing here?”  I wanted to know.

“I’ve been trying to call you but Mark wouldn’t let me.  Get your shoes and coat and come on.”

“What?  Are you trying to get me to sneak out the window?” A smile was slowly appearing on my face.

“Yeah, but you gotta hurry up before they hear you!”

I crawled out the window and as we ran across the street, I wondered how long it would take them to figure out I was gone.  

This time we hung out in his basement.  It was like our own little apartment.  There was a family room, a bedroom and a bathroom down there.  Since it hardly ever got used it was fairly clean.  It was mostly finished with brown paneling and white ceiling tiles.  We started out watching TV, but then Gary quickly turned it into a make-out session.  

Before I knew it we were on the bed. I remember how good he smelled.  I loved being close to him and smelling his masculinity.  He was wearing a faded dark blue tee-shirt and bagging black pants that hey kept pulling up.  He kicked off his shoes and led me by the hand to the bed.  He was kissing me, first on the mouth, then on my cheeks and then his tongue circled my ear.  

I began to feel all tingly all over.  It was a new sensation that I had never felt before.  It was the first time since we first kissed that I didn’t want him to stop.  His hands made their way from my head down to my shoulders and came to rest on my breasts.  I arched my back and tried not to panic.  He was my boyfriend and this is what a girlfriend was supposed to do, wasn’t it?

He soon had his hands under my shirt and in one quick motion had undone my bra.  Before I knew it we were both lying there half naked.  I felt very self conscious and kept opening my eyes to look around.   As his tongue left my mouth and found its way to my breasts, I looked up at the white ceiling tiles above me.  They were full of little tiny holes and one in particular had what looked to be a brown water stain.  

I was trying to figure out what room was above us that might explain where that stain came from when suddenly, Gary’s tongue began to circle my belly button and his hands were busy undoing the button and zipper on my pants.  I could feel the panic begin to swell in my lungs and I wanted to scream “STOP!” But instead all I could muster was a small whisper.

“Stop, wait, what are you doing?”  

“Shhh, it’s okay, just relax and enjoy this,”  Gary whispered back.

As he pulled my pants down, my chest began to feel heavier and it was getting harder to breathe.  His fingers fondled my vagina and when I felt his tongue a single tear fell from my eye and rolled down my cheek.  Suddenly Gary stopped and I opened my eyes and looked at him quizzically.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he sat up on the bed.

“Nothing,” I replied as I got up and put my clothes back on. 

“Was I going too fast for you? Sometimes I forget that you are new at all this,” he said with a chuckle.

“Yeah,” I said as I threw my boots and coat on and began to walk towards the door.

“Megan, where are you going?”

Silence.

“Megan!  Stop, don’t go.  I’m sorry.”  

I kept walking, up the stairs and right out the door.  

 

My English Project

I have to create a fiction story of 25 pages for my English Project at school before I can graduate.  Then I will have to defend my work to several members of the English department before I can get a passing grade.  Here I will post my progress starting with Part 1.  I'm still looking for a title for my overall story.

Part 1

It was dark; not a star shone in the night sky.  It seemed as if the moon was hiding, afraid of what it might see if it peeked its head out too soon.  The air was thick, the humidity high and it made it all the more difficult to breathe.  

The small house was mostly dark, save for the flickering light on the T.V. that he was watching in the living room.  I watched my mom dress for her job, wishing that she didn’t have to go. Even at the tender age of eight, I had a queasy feeling in the bottom of my stomach.  

With every tick of the clock the minute hand inched closer and closer to the eight.  I knew once it reached eight, that my mother would be gone, leaving me home alone with him.  The many times I had watched as he beat the shit out of her, already had me terrified.  

My mother came out of the bedroom and passed right by me as she made her way to the front door. My eyes were screaming, “Don’t go! Don’t go! Please don’t go!”  Not only did my mom not say goodbye, but she didn’t even take time to look at me.  She didn’t acknowledge me at all.  I got up and ran to my room as I heard the front door shut.  

I decided that I would read to keep my mind occupied.  As I laid on my bed reading stories of Ramona and Super Fudge, I heard faint footsteps coming down the hall.  There was silence and then a knock at the door.  

“Come in,” I said.

“You were being so quiet I just wanted to see what you were doing,” he said.  

“Just reading,” I said not even looking up at him.

“Do you want to come out and watch tv with me?”  He asked.

“No, I’m fine right here,”  I replied softly.

“Okay, but you’re missing a funny show,”  and with that he turned around and left, but forgot to close the door.  

I waited until I was sure he was completely down the hall way and then got up and shut the door.  I went back to my book and just as I was driving the uneasy feeling away, I heard him hollering from the living room.

“Megan!”

“Meeegaaaaan!”

“Hey, honey, come out here, I want to show you something, it’s really funny, you’ve got to come see this!”

I tried to ignore him at first, but then his voice began to sound angry and I began to feel frightened.  I slowly made my way to the door and carefully opened it.  Immediately his voice became louder and increasingly angrier.  I quietly walked down the hallway and found him sitting in the dark living room.  The curtains were all drawn on the windows, but one street light was shining brightly enough that it shone through the curtain and cast creepy shadows on the wall.  

“There you are honey, what took you so long?  Didn’t you hear me hollering for you?”  

I just stared at him not saying a word.

“What’s wrong with you?  Why are you being so quiet?  Why don’t you come over here and sit on the couch next to me,”  he said as he patted the couch cushion that was dark green with little pink and purple flowers on it.  

As I moved closer to him I couldn’t keep my eyes off that floral pattern.  I couldn’t bring herself to look at him.  

“That’s it, just come right over here and sit down next to me.  I’ve got something special to show you”.

It wasn’t until I sat down that I could smell the familiar odor of beer and saw the dozens of beer cans scattered on the coffee table.  I sat there staring at my feet on the floor; still not wanting to make eye contact.  My grandma had just painted my toenails and they were bright red.  She had let me pick my own color from the many bottles she had on her dresser in her bedroom.  I couldn’t help but giggle as she stuck cotton between my toes; it felt weird, a good weird, very different from the weird I currently felt.  

The touch of his cold, calloused hand on my chin brought me back to reality.  He must have been talking the whole time and I hadn’t heard a word of what he said, so he started over as he turned my head to force me to look right at him.  

“Did you know that you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen?” he said as he stroked   my long, brown hair.

I shook my head no.

“Well you are.  You could be a model some day.  Wouldn’t you like that?”

Again, I shook my head no.

“What?  Why not?  You’d be good at it.  You’re eyes are as blue at the summer sky.”

I just stared at him, wishing he’d see how frightened I was and let me go, but he didn’t.  

As he continued to talk he began to move his hand down from my hair and first onto my shoulder where it rested for a moment before moving down to my breasts.  He touched my nipple through my blouse with his finger.  I immediately froze in terror, my back arched and I raised her hand in protest.

“It’s okay.  Don’t worry.  It’s supposed to feel good,” he said as he pushed my hand down and began caressing both nipples with both of his hands.  

“Please don’t,” I managed to squeak out.

“Just relax,” he said trying to sound comforting.

He soon reached down and pulled off my shirt.

“See now isn’t that better?  Really, it’s okay”.

As I sat there on that green floral couch, half naked, using my arms to try and hide my breasts, I once again began to stare at my red painted toes.  

There were so many colors to choose from.  Grandma always had the prettiest colors.  She also had many bottles of perfume.  It was always a treat when she would let me spray her favorite perfume on myself.  I smelled it that night, a mixture of roses and lilacs.  

Suddenly, I felt his hands on my waist.  He was tugging at my pants, trying to pull them down.

“Come on sweetie, let’s see what you’ve got under there.”

“No, please, don’t,”  I whispered.

“I want to see your new pretty underwear that mom just bought for you.  I helped her pick them out.  Let me see how they look on you.” 

I just sat there staring at him in disbelief.  My eyes were begging, pleading with him to stop.

“Come on now, stand up,”  he said with authority.

I slowly stood on my feet.  I stared straight ahead at the creepy shadows on the wall; my arms limp at my side.  He reached up and pulled my pants down, along with my new pretty underwear.  They were white with tiny red roses on them and a tiny satin bow on the front.

“That’s a good girl, now go ahead and lay down on the couch.”

It was kind of like an out of body experience.  I heard every word he said and I obeyed every command. I was above me, watching it all and unable to stop any of it. 

He kissed my face, just to the side of my mouth.  He said that my freckles were pretty.  He said that boys liked to suck on freckles.  Then he ran his hand up and down my naked body, giving me goose bumps.  My stomach began to hurt.  

Then his hand continued to go further and further down my body. His fingers stopped and circled my belly button for a few minutes.

Grandma had a white jewelry box with gold etching sitting on the dresser next to her perfume.  It had about four or five drawers with gold knobs and the top of the box opened up to reveal a little mirror and lots of open spaces for her earrings.  

His hands continued to make their way down my body.  From my belly button they landed on my hips, gently massaging them.  He kept them there for too long and my skin began to burn.  

Next to the jewelry box was a picture frame with a really old picture in it.  Grandma explained that the picture was of her parents when they got married.  I had thought great grandma was so pretty.  It didn’t even look like her now.  She looked so young.  I hoped that I would look as pretty as her some day.

Suddenly his hands forced my legs apart and his fingers began to circle my vagina.  I jolted straight up, and hollered,

“No!  No!  No!  Please!  No!  I don’t like that, please stop!”

“Shh, it’s okay.  It will be okay, just lay back and relax. You’ll be fine. Shhhh.”  

I laid back down, shut my eyes as tight as I could, then I felt his cold wet tongue licking the lips of my vagina. The tears began to fall down my checks as I felt his slimy disgusting tongue enter my little body.    

I was sitting on Grandma’s bed, eagerly waiting as she gathered up all her supplies.  She came bounding in the room with paper towels and and a handful of cotton balls.  She sat across from me and told me to stick my foot out.  The cotton tickled as she placed it in-between my toes.  We both giggled.  She held my foot steady in one hand.  I looked at her soft white hands and saw the slightly bulging veins.  I looked at my own hands and wondered if mine would look like hers someday.  

Society's Box

I took one of those silly online personality tests the other day and was quite surprised that they had my personality pegged to a T.  Now, I realize that I’m not unique.  As a matter of fact, I kept inserting information for the people close to me in my life and soon discovered that they had about 3-4 different personality profiles that they used.  Still it was dead on for my personality.  

As I read the results, even though I already knew about myself, it made me think about how others see me.  It was like I was looking at myself through fresh, new glasses, through the eyes of others.  I am idealistic.  I am one that enjoys thinking of others.  I can’t understand why others aren’t like me.  I’m not anyone special.  If I can change and improve my life, why can’t others?  If I can be nonjudgemental, why can’t others?  If I can see that there is more to life than just running life’s rat race that society has dictated, why can’t others?  If I know what it takes and am willing to make sacrifices to protect my children why can’t others?  

I still feel stupefied when I hear of recent events of racism, or prejudice.  I still feel stupefied when I hear of mother who hurts or murder their children, or allow their boyfriends to do so.  I hate that we are forced to conform to fit society’s idea of who we should be.  

Why should my son be forced into a diagnosis because he doesn’t fit into the academic box that society created?  The first thing the “professionals” want to do is put him on medication, when in reality he just needs a little more structure.  He’s not going to be the kind person who will be able to work desk job in some small little cube pushing paper.  What that means is that it is my job, along with our educational system to help guide him to pursue his talents.  Help him figure out where he fits in.  

He’s not disruptive at school, he’s never had behavior problems, actually just the opposite, his teachers have always said how pleasant and polite he is. His one fault, disorganization and lack of effort when it comes to subjects that he doesn’t excel at or have an interest in.  That sounds like me, that sounds like a lot of people I know, yet, I function just fine in the real world. There are some skills he does need to learn in order to be a productive member of society, but I really don’t want to squash his creative side in order to achieve that.

And why is it that society dictates our love for sports.  I think sports is a great way to exert energy and to stay active, fit and healthy.  I love watching my boys play sports, but other than that, I don’t really care about them.  I don’t care what a tight end does, or a right fielder, or goal keeper, or any of it.  I have no desire to learn the positions, the rules or the teams.  Yet, it is so ingrained in our blood that since I don’t know anything, I’m the  minority.  I might as well be on display at the circus.  I’m the one in the tent labeled, “un-American sport-less freak”, come one, come all!  

No one really cares to get to know what it is that does interest me.  If it’s not the same as them, they have no interest.  I’ve dated enough in my life and grew up with brothers that I at least try to have an interest.  I ask the questions, I’m open to learning about new things.  Yet, that is probably one of the reasons I’m still single.  I have yet to find someone who is open to learning about me, learning about my life, learning about my interests, my passions, what drives me.  I want someone who will challenge me to learn new things, make me see things from a different angle, someone who will make me think.  But equally to that, I want someone who will allow me to challenge them to learn new things, make them see things from a different angle, I want to make them think.

I don’t want to be put in a box and I don’t want anyone to force my kids into that box either.  What happened to individuality?  So what if my son wants to wear his hair a little bit longer?  So what if I don’t want to get married again?  Why do we still think that the only thing women want is marriage?  

In the spring I will taking a class on conformity and rebellion.  It’s the perfect way for me to end this part of my educational journey.  I’ve been going to school for 7 years.  In the beginning I started out doing it so that I would be able to provide my children with a better life than I had.  I remember being overwhelmed at the sheer effort it would take to earn a four year degree.  My dad told me that it was not a race, but a journey and to hang on and enjoy it.  I had no idea what an education would do for me.  I’m not talking about the ability to earn more money, but what it did for me on the inside.  It changed who I am as a person.  It opened my eyes to the big wide world and it opened my eyes to my own soul.  I have a better sense of who I am and where I am going.  If I could pass on one thing to my children, that would be it.  I would hope that they would believe in themselves, learn who they are and be proud of it, be confident in it, and pass it on to others.