Sunday 28 April 2013

Adorable Creatures


A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery

A Single Black Rose by Michael Koelliker 



masked (by jessica lorraine deviantart.com)





The Kindness of Strangers


Mike Wilcox is in a hurry.

And he doesn't do hurried very well.

Keeping time has never been one of his strong points.

Time is relative to the artist in him.

His messy mop of brown hair tops a boyishly handsome face and a spray of freckles and a cupid bow mouth complete his Peter Pan appearance.

He was supposed to be at the gallery half an hour ago but another sleepless night and an hour of fitful sleep in the morning has befuddled his biological clock.

Beads of sweat collect at his brow as he pelts out of his little flat. He runs wildly to the end of the road where he foolishly expects his bus to be waiting for him.

It is not.

Just then the heavens open and it starts to rain.

Then he remembers that his bright red umbrella is in a stand by the front door.

"Great!" He scowls under his breath "Just great!"

All the omens suggest that a bad morning usually leads to a less than stellar day.

And he has an exhibition to organise.

Then he sees her.

She is standing at the bus stop on the other side of the road,  a little apart from the other people.

Tall and lithe and dressed in a black coat that hugs her body.

She is like a beautiful mourner.

A tangled mane of black witches hair frames a white oval face and blood red lips.

Her dark eyes glimmer like black fires.

She is Eve.

She is Astarte.

She is s Siren.

She is a a whore from the red light district.

The woman slowly turns to look at Mike Wilcox

She seems to be looking right through him.

The hairs on the back of his head stand on end.

There is a strange smile on her face.

Then a large bus rears into view and when it finally departs and she is no longer there.

A wave of large red and brown leaves swirl in her wake.

Mike Wilcox suddenly has a feeling of intense loss.

Above his head three large black crows descend upon

He checks his watch.

It is exactly 11 am.

He will be here tomorrow.

Wilcox spends the remainder of the day dreaming about the mysterious beauty.

People talk to him but he is lost in his own thoughts.

He sketches her face and dreams about kissing her blood red mouth.

He can't eat.

And he can't sleep.

She has filled his mind.

The following morning,  Mike Wilcox makes his way to the bus stop a little before 11 am.

Several men and women obscure his vision.

It is busy today.

Finally the people separate and there she is.

Dressed in that black coat with her waves of black hair framing her intriguing face.

The woman smiles at him and he feels a shiver rush down  his spine.

And desire pulsate's throughout his body.

(door by alexkatana deviantart.com)
Mike Wilcox has an overwhelming urge to speak to this strange woman.

Before he can change his mind,  he races across the road to her.

"Hi my name is Mike!" He blurts out quickly as he awkwardly holding out his hand before he loses his nerve.

The woman giggles.

He notices a velvet band around her neck.

She smells of freshly cut roses.

"My name is Aneliya" the woman finally says

Her voice is husky and her gaze unflinching.

The eyes are shining like two dark stars in a white face framed by mad black hair.

Her scarlet mouth breaks into a smile.

She is Mona Lisa.

Mike shivers.

Suddenly he decides that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

"Would you like to meet me tonight?" Mike says quickly "We can have a drink and then just ... just talk"

The woman gives him a knowing look as her dark eyes burn into his soul.

Time stops.

Mike Wilcox sees his whole life flash before his eyes.

What power does this woman possess?

"Be here, tonight at 8 pm" Aneliya informs him firmly.

The bus arrives and she  and the others disappear into it leaving Mike standing alone at the bus stop.

The bust stop is empty save for the swirling leaves

And a little senior woman who suddenly appears from behind a tree.

She looks deeply into his eyes.

Then the older woman slowly shakes her head.

Mike Wilcox shivers where he stands.

Have I just made a terrible mistake?

But he quickly crushes the idea.

All day Mike Wilcox struggles to focus on the job in hand.

Everything fades into an irrelevance as he obsessively replays the mysterious woman's face and voice in his mind.

Times passes and Mike hardly even notices.

He is in suspended animation

Lost in his reverie

He is a man in love with someone he doesn't know.

A dark ghost haunting his mind.

8 pm.

Mike is standing at the bus stop.

His heart is beating so loudly that it is like a herd of horses stamping through the street.

"Come with me" the unmistakable yet mysterious voice commands from somewhere behind him.

Mike turns to see her. 

Dressed in black again with her witches hair framing her pale face.

Her lips are red.

She is Vampira.

Mike quivers with longing.

Then Aneliya begins to walk quickly and Mike has trouble keeping up with her.

She tosses back her thick mane of black hair and laughs.

"I live quite near here but my family come from the west country " Mike babbles away "are you from New Acres?"

"I am nobody and I come from nowhere" Aneliya answers evasively.

She takes his hand and leads him on.

Mike Wilcox is ready to obey her every command.

A waft of her intoxicating perfume fills his senses.

He has to have her.

They walk down the familiar high street with its impressive parade of expensive shops and boutiques.

Then they turn into a dark alleyway.

Mike can't remember ever taking this turning.

The ground is strewn with rotten fruit and vegetables.

The stench is terrible.

Coming out of the alleyway into the dim light they pass several dilapidated shops including one which is boarded up called Mr Bilial's Curiosity Shop.

They hurry past and edge through a gap between two of the run down shops.

A secret passageway.

Standing before them like a huge dark mountain is a large Gothic mansion.

The building is so immense that it is impossible to tell how many rooms it has.

A crumbling portico is held up by aged columns.

Ivy leaves and weeds seem to be creeping through every crack.

A centuries old mansion frozen in time.

Mike Wilcox is stunned by the imposing building and is momentarily dazed.

Am I dreaming?

A huge shining black door beckons them to open it.

The doorway to the Underworld.

Mike follows Aneliya into the mansion.

Suddenly he freezes.

The door has opened up into the largest room he has ever seen.

Statues align the walls as from ancient Greece.

Half naked gods and goddesses as in Mount Olympus.

And Aneliya is the goddess Athene.

Huge paintings and gold framed mirrors adorn the walls.

Elaborate chandeliers glitter in the intricately worked ceiling.

The white marble floor is so bright that it reflects his face.

Men, women and children are sitting or standing with solemn expressions on their faces.

They are all watching Mike Wilcox attentively.

He feels a sudden and primal urge to run.

Mike notices with mounting horror that every single person in the room is wearing a gold mask.

And that the room is deathly silent.

They have been waiting for him.

"This is my family" Aneliya pronounces joyfully as she takes a mask from a young man and hands it to Mike.

Mike reluctantly puts on the mask.

Suddenly the silence is broken by a cacophony of noise as people begin laughing and talking animatedly.

Someone pats Mike enthusiastically on the back.

Several burly men embrace him - laughing wildly.

A glass of wine is thrust into his hand.

A small band appears and begins playing as people take to the centre of the floor and dance to the mesmeric music.

Aneliya is talking to a shorter and more stout woman that Mike guesses must be her mother.

Suddenly he feels unreasoning fear.

And he doesn't know why.

Mike takes a big gulp of wine - it tastes sweet but chalky.

His head is now spinning from fear and something else.

The violin music is getting faster and faster.

People are dancing wildly around him.

Someone pushes Mike enthusiastically into the centre of the floor and he feels himself being tugged around like a dancing monkey.

People are laughing and shouting in a language he cannot understand

He no longer tries to decipher what is happening to him.

The hypnotic sound of the music possesses him.

He begins to lose his inhibitions as the wine seeps into his very bones.

Mike struggles to find some clarity in his addled mind.

Another hour and he will be on his way home.

The thought of his modest little flat suddenly puts him at ease.

Soon Aneliya will be sharing his bed.

Anything is possible with her.

Mike Wilcox staggers onto his feet.

He loses his balance and falls down onto his knees.

Everything is swimming before his eyes.

He struggles to focus.

Mike Wilcox looks up from the floor to see the captivating Aneliya looking down at him.

He remembers why he is in love her.

To look at her beautiful pale face is to remember.

The older woman she was talking to earlier appears from behind her. She is flanked by three large men and several excited women.

"You are perfect!"Aneliya exclaims looking deeply into Mike's eyes.

Mike's heart skips a beat.

He finally rises unsteadily to his feet.

She must want him too.

They can leave together now.

This is a crazy momentary lapse.

The older woman slowly shakes her head.

Suddenly Mike remembers the senior woman at the bus stop and icy fear grips him.

"My sister" Aneliya cries "her name is Galina"

The men and women separate allowing a woman to emerge from behind them.

For a moment Mike is unable to comprehend what is happening or what he is looking at.

Is this the monkey woman?

The woman in front of him is not wearing a mask.

Her staring face is withered like a dry leaf.

Her back is crooked and one shoulder is higher than the other.

She smiles showing uneven teeth.

One of her eyes is heavy lidded and the other wide open.

She is a reflection in a mad hall of mirrors.

Grecian statue (by LindseyKal deviantart.com)
A circus freak.

This is the Land of the Dead.

Mike opens his mouth but no sound will come out.

Fear has stolen his tongue.

Someone violently pats him vigorously on the back.

"You are perfect for her" Aneliya declares, as a surly man bolts the huge black front door behind them.

The monkey woman grins broadly and opens her arms to Mike Wilcox in expectation.

But he is holding his head and screaming now.

This cannot be happening ...

This is a nightmare from which he will awake ...

But it is all too real

"No! No! No!" Mike Wilcox screams as the music gets louder and louder.

People are clapping and cheering.

The monkey woman is tugging at him - showing rotten teeth.

Aneliya looks proudly on.

Outside the old mansion, the sun is finally setting.

And three large crows descend upon the branch of an old oak tree and squawk loudly at each other.

Three birds of ill omen waiting for a victim to succumb to his fate.


Sex Therapy


"Tell me a little bit more about your childhood?" The therapist asked.

Arno Moon let out a long and weary sigh.

"Let me see ... my father left my German mother when I was ten and I've lost count of the amount of times that I and my brother Leon changed schools because my father always liked moving on ... "

"How did those changes impact you?" The therapist enquired thoughtfully.

"You mean regarding my inability to commit romantically?" Moon responds "You mean that the early upheavals may have set up a pattern of some sort?"

The therapist smiles knowingly and her clear blue eyes glitter brightly.

"It's possible" the attractive brunette replies "What is your relationship with your father like?"

"We have a good relationship!" Arno Moon cries "He is an artist and a free spirit. I never blamed my dad for the breakup with my mom!"

"What is your relationship with your mother like?" The therapist presses "Do you see her?"

"I have an understanding with my mom" Moon answers carefully "She lives in Munich and we talk ... sometimes"

"Are you angry with your mother?" The therapist asks him.

"Not inordinately!" The man answers sharply "My parents got divorced and both of them moved on and met other people. My father's wife is great and my mother has a great guy in her life"

"Are you still angry with your parents?" The therapist asks - looking intently into Arno Moon's brown eyes.

The man slowly shakes his head.

"Not that I'm aware of!" He answers tersely.

"I mean ... does it still affect you?" The therapist demands.

"Listen Erica ... this is too much now!" Arno Moon declares as he turns to the woman "Would you cut out the third degree?"

Erica Bailey lets out a deflated sigh and pouts dejectedly.

The couple are lying in a big motel bed in the middle of the afternoon.

"You've gotta stop bringing your work to bed!" Moon continues.

"I know" Bailey replies "But I guess I gotta justify screwing my clients somehow!"




The Marijuana Motel (by MarijuanaMotel deviantart.com)



                      

Saturday 20 April 2013

Daddy's Little Angel



Hush, little sister
Please don't cry
I wish I could be there
To sing you a lullaby

~ Hush Little Sister by Verzinia


Now I'm off to the races cases 
Of Bacardi chasers 
Chasin' me all over town 
'Cause he knows I'm wasted, facin' 
Time again at Riker's 
Island and I won't get out 
Because I'm crazy, 
baby I need you to come here and save me 
I'm your little scarlet starlet 
Singin' in the garden 
Kiss me on my open mouth 
Ready for you 

~ Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey  



Green sunglasses, red lipstick (by Laura-Vancane deviantart.com)





Prom Queen


Doug Bradley.

He was scared.

It was nearly prom night and he didn't have anyone to go with.

The awful truth was that nobody wanted to go with him because nobody wanted to pretend anymore. 

Doug Bradley was just too gay for St Bartholomew High School.

In the quiet of his room Doug cried nearly every night into his pillow.

In the privacy of his mind he walked into the sunset with the class golden boy.

Jim Travers.

In the privacy of his heart he knew there was a place where he belonged.

A place where he was accepted as just another human being.

Doug Bradley was small and slight.

He had wavy brown hair and clear blue eyes.

Doug's only friends were the girls he hung out with.

And those who felt sorry for him. 

But he also had secret admirers like Miss Brockstein. 

Doug Bradley wasn't cool and he wasn't the average boy at St Bartholomew High.

Appearances were everything in this school.

Depth and character seemed to count for very little.

A fact that depressed Jana Brockstein intensely.

She was a native of Prague who had moved to the States to teach.

Jana Brockstein was an attractive brunette with vivid green eyes and an engaging personality.

Not long after arriving in the States she met her future husband Craig Brockstein at a teaching conference in San Diego and the couple quickly settled down.

Jana had strong maternal instincts and she took a personal interest in all her pupils.

She and Craig were unable to have children so she lavished her affections on her pupils.

Particularly Doug Bradley.

Jana Brockstein was drawn to the boy because he was unlike any of the other kids at St Bartholomew High.

Doug Bradley was had developed his own coping mechanisms.

He had a vivid imagination and he used it to his advantage.

Everyday after school Doug Bradley would throw off his rucksack and toss his shoes to one side. 

He would turn up the music load. 

Then he would dance until he was exhausted and mime some more to himself in the mirror. 

All his favourite songs could be heard from his open bedroom window. 

But Doug Bradley was the real star. 

Gyrating and singing his heart out in the middle of his bedroom. 

Doug was completely free.

Loved and accepted.

And nobody could hurt him. 

Because Doug Bradley was beyond all that on the stage in his mind. 

And he always got a standing ovation.

"Put your eyes back in your head!" Cynthia Lee shouted abruptly at Doug Bradley as he walked past her one day at school. 

Lee was holding onto the taut body of her prom date Jim Travers.  

And she was acting like she had won the biggest prize of all. 

As far as Doug Bradley was concerned - she had.

His heart had already skipped a beat at the sight of the handsome Jim Travers. 

Doug Bradley must have been staring at Travers but he wasn't remotely aware of it.

Jim Travers.

He took Doug's breath away.

Travers was a fox.

The lazy smile.

The clear blue eyes.

The blond surfers hair.

Jim Travers was a dreamboat. 

"He's all mine!" Cynthia crowed spitefully as she snapped Doug Bradley out of his trance. 

Then she tugged Jim Travers close and planted a lingering kiss on his full lips.

The girls giggled and clapped. 

And a several boys whistled as they passed.

Doug Bradley blushed violently as his eyes filled with tears.

Cynthia Lee knew that Bradley had a crush on her boyfriend.

And she loved poking fun at him.

"It'll never happen!" She informed her friends as they all laughed at the lockers one afternoon.

"What can he be thinking?" One of her blonde followers piped up.

"My boyfriend is a real man!" Cynthia Lee retorted nastily "Not a fag!"

Then they all laughed again.

Now Cynthia Lee finally turned and looked at Doug Bradley with a look of triumph on her face.

She slowly eyed Bradley up and down disdainfully. 

"He's my man!" Lee informed him firmly.

"You little fag"

Jim Travers was shifting uneasily on his feet.

He was too embarrassed to speak.

Cynthia Lee looked like a china doll.

She had a pug like face which was framed by a mane of fluffy blonde hair and her hard blue eyes glittered like two Cartier diamonds.

Everything was pink.

From her painted lips to her outfits and jewelry.

And Cynthia Lee was as fake as her nails and a carbon copy of every other blonde air head at St Bartholomew High

It was a school of clones.

But nobody did blonde quite like Cynthia Lee.

And unlike so many of the drones at St Bartholomew High - Lee was a leader not a follower.

She was a conniving and manipulative user who took advantage of everybody.

Cynthia Lee was a class-A bitch.

Her band of blonde sycophants and wannabes giggled at her jibes and said exactly what she wanted to hear..

They were too in thrall to her to question what she said.

Cynthia Lee owned them all.

Jim Travers looked visibly uncomfortable. 

Every single girl - and some of the boys - wanted to be with him. 

Jim Travers.

Champion athlete. 

Champion jock. 

"Drop dead gorgeous"

"Sure ... Cynth" Doug Bradley managed nervously as he tried to shuffle away.

"Going to the prom are we?" Lee pointed out sharply in a mocking voice "It's good that you're trying. But will anyone have you Doug?"

Jim Travers winced.

She had gone too far again.

Cynthia Lee threw back her head and laughed loudly.

Her girlfriends broke into laughter. 

Then Cynthia Lee snapped her fingers and they stopped at once.

She was the leader after all.

"Its not that I don't like gays!" Cynthia informed Doug Bradley spitefully "Its just that I prefer them to bark up the right tree. Know what I mean?"

Jim Travers was unable to conceal his embarrassment any longer. 

He grabbed Cynthia Lee's arm roughly and pulled her along. 

"That's enough!" He snarled into her ear.

Lee's followers trailed behind the couple like cattle.

Doug Bradley stayed rooted to the spot.

He had been humiliated by Cynthia Lee once again.

And in front of the man of her dreams.

Doug Bradley wanted the ground to open up and swallow him alive.

He was an outcast. 

What did Jim Travers see in Cynthia Lee anyway?

She was a nasty little bitch.

"What about that lovely girl you go to tap class with?" Doug's mother Celia asked him later that evening as she sat beside him on his bed. 

Celia Bradley knew her son was gay and she was very sympathetic. 

But school etiquette had to be observed and Doug was in that painful place of just beginning to discover who he was.

Celia was an attractive Canadian woman who had met Doug's father on a trip to New York with her mother.

She was an attorney and she found the mysterious artist intriguing.

Love blossomed and the couple soon became inseparable with Celia moving to New York soon after. 

Christopher Bradley was half Serbian and half American.

He was tall and good looking and had intense blue eyes and dark brown hair.

"She's going with Greg James" Doug Bradley answered  his mother sadly.

He was pretending to be reading a book.

"I'm sure there must be someone out there for you?" Doug's father remarked as he stood in the doorway of his son's bedroom "Good looking jock like yourself?"

Christopher Bradley also knew that his son was gay. 
   
He had struggled with it at first. 

Not because he thought it was wrong but because he was a man's man and had never had to deal with something like this before. 

The Bradley's were an intelligent and liberated family.

And the fact that Celia and Christopher's son was gay made no difference to them at all.

"Nobody wants me" Doug replied as tears began to stream down his face.

Celia Bradley put a hand on her son's shoulder.

She hated seeing him like this.

It tore her apart. 

Doug was special.

And Celia and Christopher Bradley knew it.

She paused for thought. 

l006 - who i am (by slevinaaron deviantar.com)
Then after several minutes of silent contemplation she finally spoke.

"There is something that we can do" Celia informed her son with a knowing smile. 

Doug Bradley slowly looked up at his mother.

Celia was smiling.

Christopher was smiling.

Suddenly a light had been lit in the darkness.

Prom Night


St Bartholomew High had been bedecked in a gaudy shower of brightly coloured balloons, banners and streamers.

The gym had been converted into a disco heaven.

There was so many blonde clones in pink dresses that it looked like a Barbie doll reunion. 

Boys in tuxedo's wandered around the huge dining hall with their prom "dates" on their arms. 

They looked like stuffed dummies who had been over enthusiastic with the after shave. 

Some of their voices had broken but there were plenty of boys who were trying to be men with impossibly high voices. 

Some of the girls were playing coquettes.

Whilst all too many were already drunk or smoking behind the garbage cans outside the school. 

Three girls were already noticeably pregnant.

Jana Brockstein was standing at the entrance to the gym with Fred Feldbaum. 

She was the only Math teacher present and she was being subjected to a lengthy discourse from the most boring Science teacher in the faculty. 

Fred Feldbaum.

Jana knew he was having trouble in his marriage but she was strictly off limits.

But it didn't stop Feldbaum from proposing to her. 

Jana was hoping for a friendly teacher to come and save her.

But unfortunately they were in short supply this evening.

They knew better than to be present at this car crash of an event.

Jana Brockstein shrugged as she looked around the room.

It was a meeting of minds tonight.

This was meant to be the event of the year.

A night of the neighborhood's finest. 

Jana Brockstein sighed.
   
But it was with a sense of mounting despair that she warily surveyed the nights proceedings and the entry and exit of every boy and girl. 


A profusion of shallow sheep in designer clothes and glittering jewels. 

And not much between the ears. 

All destined to live big soap opera lives. 

But somebody was missing. 

Jana Brockstein anxiously looked at her watch again. 

Fred Feldbaum was still droning on.

Now he was telling Jana about his recent trip to New Jersey in his monotonous tone of voice. 

Jana Brockstein wondered if anyone had ever actually fallen asleep just listening to his voice? 

No wonder his wife had run off with the janitor.

"That's nice ..." Brockstein replied disinterestedly as Fred Feldbaum jabbered on. 

For a brief moment she considered emptying a bucket of ice over Feldbaum's head. 

But she quickly stamped on the idea.

Deep down she felt sorry for him.

He was short and prepossessing with wavy brown hair and grey eyes.

Jana Brockstein smiled blankly at him as he barreled on.

In an hour's time they would be crowning the King and Queen of the prom. 

And then they could all go home.

The inevitability of it all was creeping up on Jana Breockstein.

The quotation awfulness of it all.

It was already a foregone conclusion who would win.

And Cynthia Lee was already behaving as already had as she tugged on Jim Travers arm in her pink satin prom dress with its plunging neckline.

Travers had a forced smile on his face.

He was looking particularly handsome in his tuxedo.

Then he entered.

Doug Bradley had arrived. 

As you had never seen him before. 

Big bouffant red hair - courtesy of Shelley's Wig Store

Big white Valentino organza dress and Tiffany bracelet and earrings shining in each ear. 

A pair of his mother's shining silver Christian Louboutin heels. 

A perfectly made up face courtesy of Clinique and a big bright smile. 

Doug Bradley was invincible.

Tears streamed down Jana Brockstein's face. 

And now she was clapping loudly.

Fred Feldbaum had at last stopped talking. 

Several revellers were staring agog at Doug Bradley. 

The band had momentarily stopped playing. 

Couples had stopped talking and had turned to look at Doug Bradley as he made his sweeping entrance.

One of the boys laughed and Jim Travers landed him with a right hook.

Cynthia Lee was gawping transfixed at Doug Bradley. 

She was so shocked that she dropped her glass of champagne. 

"That faggot has ruined my night!" Cynthia Lee snarled.

"This is my night! This is all about me!"

Turning to look at Jim Travers she caught him smiling admiringly at Doug Bradley. 

Cynthia Lee was utterly mortified.

She slapped Jim Travers hard across the face. 

As she turned to stomp out of the gym Cynthia Lee suddenly slipped on the spilt champagne and skidded across the floor.

Lee hurtled head first into the desert table.

The whole world appeared to have erupted into laughter at her humiliation. 

Several people cheered and clapped. 

Cynthia Lee was covered in chocolate mousse and trifle. 

She glared in fury at the mocking crowd around her as she arrogantly threw back her head in defiance.

"Screw you all!" Cynthia Lee declared.  

Then she burst into tears. 

Before flouncing out of the gym.

Doug Bradley had been watching the event with a great sense of satisfaction.

Cynthia Lee had literally got her just deserts.

"You look gorgeous!" Jana Brockstein informed Bradley "I knew you were special!" 

Then she cupped his face in her hands.

"Thank you for believing in me" Doug Bradley answered her.

Tears were streaming down his face.

Jim Travers walked over and took Doug Bradley by the hand as prom revelers broke into cheers and applause. 

Bradley's heart was beating so loudly he thought it would burst from his chest.

The man of his dreams had finally noticed him.

Jim Travers led Doug Bradley out to the centre of the floor as the band began playing Beautiful by Christina Aguilera.

The world was suddenly a golden place.

Doug Bradley had finally arrived.

Outside St Bartholomew High,  Celia Bradley paused in the car.

"Shine bright son!" She cried.

Celia Bradley lingered for a moment and then after wiping away her tears she finally drove off with a smile on her face and hope in her heart.


Lolita Kiss


Lia Jennings was standing in the large cemetery as they lowered his heavy coffin into the ground.

It had been raining hard all day but she hadn't noticed it. 

She was too numb. 

The dark grey sky stared down mournfully at the burial ritual. 

The sun was in hiding his face.

" ...in the midst of life we are in death .... of whom may we seek for succour ... but of thee, oh Lord .."

Muffled cries of grief mingled with the sound of the rain as it continued to fall relentlessly down. 

The smell of bitterness and desolation pervaded the sombre occasion. 

Lia's brother put his arm around her. The awkward show of affection took Lia by surprise. 

Behind her stood her father's family and the remnants of her mother's. 

Several groups of friends and well wishers were also present. 

Her stepmother stood on the other side of her brother. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying.

But Lia Jennings had not shed a single drop for her father. 

She had no tears left for him now.

Later she sat outside the funeral home - smoking alone.

She was trying to stem the flow of memories that were jogging for attention in her mind. 

And she was losing the battle.

Lia was thirteen years old when her father first touched her. 

He had taken her to the end of the garden on a warm summers day.

"You're daddy's little angel" He whispered in her ear.

He kissed her gently on the forehead. 

Then she felt his big warm hand in her panties. 

Her caressed her and she felt a sensation that she had never felt before. 

They heard her mother call to them and he removed his hand quickly. 

That was how it began.

She wasn't sure when she started to hate her father.

Was it the secret groping in the shed?

The first time he penetrated her when her mother was out of the house?

The drunken ranting after he had come home inebriated from the bar?

The way he beat their mother?

Lia only knew that she was glad that her father was dead and in the ground. 

Hell was too good for him.

She got out of the car and walked slowly to the family home where a small group of people had gathered. 

The atmosphere was subdued. 

A few people were crying but the mood was one of resignation. 

Her brother sat with his wife in a corner of the room.  

His new born baby boy sat on his lap. 

Joshua Jennings had never been able to accept her allegations against their father even though he watched him beat up their mother and turned his rage onto them. 

Belts,  baseball bats and anything else he could lay his hands on. 

Their father was an efficient sadist. 

Their mother eventually died of cancer when Lia was fourteen and Joshua eleven and a part of Lia must have died with her.

The stepmother hovered around the kitchen like a bird of ill omen. 

Her sharp face was caked in make up.

She wasn't a great beauty.

But she knew how to set off her good features.

Miranda Jennings was a consummate actress. 

Using her sexuality to ensnare men.

A gold digger who stole Lia's father and his haulage business and made it her own.

Her piercing blue eyes were rimmed with kohl and and her thin lips were painted bright red.

Miranda Jennings looked like a vampire.

The dark hair was hidden beneath a black cap and she was dressed in a figure-hugging black Prada dress.

She had worked her booty well.

Going from secretary to trophy wife in record time.

Not only had Lia's father married her with indecent haste but he had given his dead wife's clothes and expensive jewelry to her as well. 

Dead man's shoes.

Lia Jennings could number several old lovers in the room too. 

Precocious with boys from an early age - she learnt that she could use sex to get what she wanted. 


mon enfance tragique (by youreuglykbie deviantart.com)
Sometimes they never even asked her name.

Indiscriminate sexual partners never made her happy. 

They just increased her sense of emptiness even more. 

Fifteen and lying out in the sun. 

The sand was golden. 

The sky was azure blue. 

Several good looking boys had made eyes at her and Lia was feeling beautiful and free. She was flirting with them.

Her skin was tanned and her sensual lips were red and inviting. 

She was Lolita.

But the spell was soon broken.

Her father told her to take off the make up. 

She refused. 

He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her screaming to the sea. 

Then he forced her face down into the lapping waves and kept pushing her head under. 

Her brother jumped onto his back to make him stop as he dug his fingers into their fathers eyes. 

But the man just swung the boy round and elbowed him violently in the chest.

Lia fell back grasping her throat and coughing violently. 

All the time Miranda Jennings sat watching coldly on. 

Her arms were folded defensively across her chest. 

She hated her step daughter.

The girl was a good-for-nothing.

And she urged her husband to show her no mercy.

"She's a little harlot!" Miranda Jennings explained "Only a good thrashing can help her!"

Several people on the beach got up and left the horrible scene - noisily decrying the violent treatment of the children and threatening to call the cops.

The father just swore loudly at them as they hurried away.

"You're a little whore" the father whispered in Lia's ear as he climbed into her bed that night "And we know what happens to little whore's don't we?"

Then as he kept his big hand on her mouth - he raped her.

Lia remembered vividly the day she finally told her family that her father had been abusing her. 

It was her brothers fifteenth birthday and several relatives and friends families were all present. 

Lia just stood up and told everybody after the birthday cake was cut - in the loudest voice she could muster.

"My daddy is a dirty paedophile and a bad man!" Lia shouted "He's been abusing me since I was thirteen years old!"

The room had fallen deathly silent. Some of the mothers had gathered up their children

"You little lying harlot!" Her father exploded leaping out of his chair "I should whip your ass for that!"

"Leave the little tramp!" The stepmother sniped "Just throw the ungrateful little harlot out onto the street!"

"Is this true?" Max Frost the local pharmacist asked with concern in his voice.

"Of course not!" Lia's father exclaimed "My daughter is a little whore who has been making out with every little runt in town!"

Joshua was crying loudly.

Their sympathetic aunt was trying to pull Lia out of the room.

The entire party had turned into a fiasco. 

Later Lia learnt that her father had told everyone that she was mentally ill and spaced out on anti-depressants.

He also added that Lia was a "two-bit hooker who had already been around the block more times than I can remember!"

That night he violently raped her.

Now Lia was sitting at the family home of the man she had hated all her life. 

The man she had worshipped for the first thirteen years of her life. 

The man she had searched for all her life. 

She knew she was not welcome there.

Lia Jennings walked into the kitchen to pour herself a drink.

"Get out of here!" Her stepmother cried.

Miranda Jennings had appeared like a dark ghost before her.

An evil spirit. 

She was the shadow that had been cast over her teenage years.

"Just paying my respects to daddy" Lia Jennings answered smoothly.

"Dancing on his grave more like!" The woman retorted bitterly.

"Stop being so melodramatic!" Lia exclaimed "You're getting all his money and this house after all!"

"How dare you!" Miranda Jennings screamed "I loved your father but you betrayed him!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Lia snapped back "My father was a dirty paedophile and a rapist and I'm glad he's dead now!" 

"You filthy lying little whore!" The woman exclaimed shaking with emotion.

"Take another pill honey!" Lia laughed back "You'll feel better real soon!"

"How dare you?" Miranda Jennings cried as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

"Yeah go on and cry your crocodile tears!" Lia said "You're just a hooker my father picked up on the street!"

"I think you should leave now" Joshua Jennings said. 

He was standing in the kitchen doorway holding his baby. 

He must have heard everything.

Lia Jennings knew she was beaten.

Both women slowly turned to look at him. 

Lia couldn't talk. 

For there was nothing left to say. 

She knew it was it all over

Suddenly she knew that her brother had deserted her.

Lia put down her glass and walked calmly out of the kitchen. 

"Goodbye little brother" she said to Joshua.

Joshua stared back unemotionally at her.

The distraught expression on the stepmother's face had adjusted to a look of triumph.

"Get out of this house!" Miranda Jennings snarled at her step daughter "And don't come back!"

Lia flashed her glowering step mother with a broad grin.

Miranda Jennings was as fake as her blood red nails.

"A cheap hooker made good"

Lia walked calmly past her and her brother.

Then she made her way past the mourners.

Fully aware that many of them were staring at her. 

There was a low murmuring in the room as she brushed past the throng with her head held high.

"What you staring at Clifford?" Lia Jennings fired at a tall man standing by the front door with his wife "Think I'm gonna tell them about your small dick?"

It was lashing with rain as Lia finally stepped outside.

At last she could breathe.

Lia Jennings knew that she was closing the door to her old life.

And she knew there was no going back.

Lia drove home in the driving rain. 

With Guns N' Roses blaring in the car.

Everything felt as bleak and heavy as the overcast sky.

A storm had come and blown right through her life.

The house was dark and empty. 

She had come home to a great big nothing.

Lia Jennings had lost track of time. 

She must have fallen asleep on the sofa. 

The next thing Lia remembered was being woken up by her partner tugging at her hair. 

Steven Jessop was a millionaire entrepreneur with a raging drink and cocaine problem that was getting out of hand. 

He had brown curly hair, blue eyes and classical good looks.

Steven Jessop was tall and muscular and had plenty of charisma.

Few could resist him.

And he knew it.

Lia Jennings had first noticed Jessop at the burlesque club where she performed.

The Pink Flamingo was a popular haunt for men looking for a lap dance with their drink.

Lia only danced privately for men she  felt comfortable with.

And she felt safe with Steven Jessop.

He was polite and respectful and Lia was instantly impressed.

Steven Jessop wasn't like the usual guys.

He seemed genuinely interested in her.

And there was also a dangerous edge to the handsome man.

Lia loved that.

Jessop soon became a regular at The Pink Flamingo and always asked specifically for Lia Jennings.

And she was only too happy to dance for him.

The couple were mutually attracted to each other.

Lia Jennings enjoyed the pursuit.

And Steven Jessop enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

The relationship quickly developed outside of The Pink Flamingo.

Lia Jennings was a die hard romantic.

And Steven Jessop knew how to treat a woman.

He lavished expensive presents on Lia Jennings and whisked her away on surprise holidays.

Jessop took the beautiful dancer to the most exclusive restaurants and made her feel like a Princess.

And they also made incredible love.

Steven Jessop was seemingly an unstoppable sex machine.

And Lia Jennings was only too happy to satisfy his every need.

She enjoyed sex nearly as much or even more so than he.

And Steven Jessop was the best Lia had ever had.

But that was back in the day.

A moment in time.

Because Steven Jessop had begun to change as soon as he secured his quarry.

He began to take Lia Jennings for granted.

He stayed out late and came home drunk.

The darker side of Steven Jessop's nature had occured.

He was a Jekyll and Hyde character.

Jessop could be charming one moment.

And transform into a cruel monster the next.

He took a sadistic pleasure in abusing his lover.

Lia Jennings was used to ill-treatment.

And she took his verbal and physical blows with stoicism because nobody else had treated her the way Steven Jessop had.

She believed in him.

And he took full advantage of it.

Steven Jessop was also unable to keep his penis in his pants.

Lia knew he was sleeping around but she turned a blind eye to it.

It was uncharacteristic of her but she did it for him.

But something had changed inside her since her father had died.

"This is not the life I wanted!"

Lia Jennings was seeing everything in the cold and harsh light of day.

And she didn't like what she saw.

One her lover would go too far.

And Lia Jennings would wind up in the ground beside her hated father.

Steven Jessop was pulling at her hair and slurring his words.

His hot face was staring into hers and his breath stank of alcohol. 

"You fucking little slut!" Jessop was snarling into her hair as he tugged at her clothes "Suck my cock bitch!"

Lia was trying to fight him off but he had pinned her down.

She knew from experience that crying out was pointless.

So she learnt to surrender to save her life.

Once upon a time Steven Jessop had been the man of her dreams.

But now Lia Jennings couldn't remember what she saw in him. 

Steven Jessop was a demon.

And tonight Lia was hoping that he wouldn't hit her in the face tonight or bash her with the bed slat like he had done three weeks ago. 

There was a pattern to his brutality.

He beat her and then begged for her forgiveness. 

Then they retreated to the bedroom and had wild sex for hours. 

Lia Jennings knew it was wrong.

But stayed with Steven Jessop even though he was physically and psychologically abusing her.

Because deep down she believed she deserved to be with him.

Deep down she believed that she deserved to be punished for being a naughty little girl.

For being Lolita.

Three tortuous hours later and Lia Jennings came to.

She was lying on the floor of the bathroom.

Lia Jennings was completely disorientated. 

She had lost three hours of her life.

Blood was pouring out of an angry gash on her forehead.

Lia Jennings was used to the sight and taste of her own blood.

And she was used to covering up her black eyes and bruises.

There was a plethora of scarves to cover up the bruises on her neck where Steven Jessop had tried to throttle her.

I just want to be wonderful (by youreuglykbie deviantart.com)
There were the ubiquitous big designer sunglasses to hide the black eyes that he frequently gave her.

And then there was a girl's best friend - make-up.

Copious amounts of make up to camouflage the broken skin and bruises left behind by Steven Jessop's handiwork.

But there wasn't enough make-up in the world to cover up Lia's violent self loathing.

Or the gaping wound in her heart that wouldn't heal.

Lia began to drift in and out of consciousnesses.

Memories were flooding back to her.

Lia Jennings was fourteen again.

It was Christmas and the house was full of relatives and family friends. 

Lia's father had taken her by the hand and led her down into the larder.

The young girl was eagerly anticipating another Christmas present. 

And she could barely conceal her delight even if she was perplexed by the path they were taking.

Before Lia knew what was happening her father roughly pulled up her new cream satin dress and pulled down her panties.

Then he violated her with a large cucumber. 

Lia was sobbing loudly and flinching in pain.

Her father was visibly aroused and grinning with pleasure.

"No daddy! No!"

Lia's body was tense with fear and tears were streaming down her cheeks but her father had his large hand now placed firmly on her mouth and his hulking body was pressing her down. 

They never heard the soft footsteps. 

Lia only saw the stepmother's face as she froze in horror at the scene unfolding before her. 

Miranda Jennings gasped as her hand flew to her mouth.

But she quickly turned and departed the scene.

Miranda Jennings dealt with the situation by pretending nothing had ever happened. 

But she would spend the rest of her life medicating her emotions away. 

She would become increasingly dependent on a cocktail of pills and drink to get her through the day.

Miranda Jennings became the living dead.

Back on the bathroom floor and Lia could feel shame washing over her. 

The old familiar ache seeped into her as pain gnawed at her soul with its sharp claws. 

All Lia could see in her mind's eye was her father.

He was staring into her face with wild flashing eyes.

"You're daddy's little angel"

Then Lia lost consciousnesses again.

And she was thirty three years old again.

She had been out with her man to the movies and they had just had a wonderful meal together at an elegant restaurant.

Everything had been perfect.

Now they were at his swanky apartment. 

Steven Jessop poured Lia some wine. 

And then he leaned over and kissed her. 

Lia Jennings melted. 

He was the best.

Nobody had ever made her feel the way Steven Jessop had.

A couple of hours later and the couple were in bed together.

Lia had fallen asleep.

She had a dream that she was flying through the sky. 

Feeling completely free.

Suddenly Lia woke up abruptly.

She must have died and gone to hell.

Lia Jennings was in excruciating pain.

Steven Jessop was pushing something dark into her vagina. 

She threw back her head and screamed with pain.

Steven Jessop was shoving a piece of wood into her.

Lia Jennings attempted to push him away but he was too strong. 

Now he was on top of her.

He was laughing wildly. 

Steven Jessop had been possessed by the Devil.

Lia Jennings had never seen her lover this way before.

He had always been the perfect gentleman.

But underneath it all he was a monster.

Just like her father had been.

A Jekyll and Hyde.

And Lia Jennings realised with mounting horror that she had fallen for the mirror image of her own sadistic father.

Jessop put his big hand over her mouth.

"Who's the daddy?" Steven Jessop kept repeating as he continued to push the phallus into her. 

Then he roughly pulled the wood out of her and turned her over as he pushed her face into the pillow.

Steven Jessop then entered Lia from behind. 

She screamed out in pain with each painful thrust.

Jessop was grunting and moaning as he climaxed and tumbled off her. 

He let out an animal sigh of contentment

Lia Jennings was sobbing loudly in the big silken bed beside him.

Her dream lover had disappeared and been replaced by a sadist.

She had attracted another abuser like her father.

That was the first time that she had ever thought about killing him.

Lia Jennings was back on the cold bathroom floor again.

This was the fairy tale home that Steven Jessop had bought for both of them.

The little love nest that he had lavishly furnished.

A gilded prison from which Lia Jennings believed she would never emerge. 

Slowly she pulled herself up and noticed that there was blood on the front of her silk night dress where he had penetrated her with a variety of objects. 

She carefully made her way down the stairs.

Every movement stung and Lia winced in pain. 

She took her keys from the coffee table and carefully stepped over the sleeping body of her assailant where he was slumped on the floor near the sofa. 

Lia paused for a moment to look at the man who had tormented her for the last three years.

He had ravaged her soul.

And she had given him permission to do it.

Steven Jessop was the viper in her bosom.

Lia Jennings was badly hurt.

But the feeling of elation that engulfed her as she opened the front door rippled throughout her broken body.

Lia welcomed the cool night air.

Then she started to cry uncontrollably.  

Harsh sobs racked her body.

She wept for a love that had died.

And a lost childhood and the men who had taken advantage of her.

Then Lia Jennings let out an animal roar.

She was not going to go down without a fight.

A sharp jab in the back announced the arrival of her errant lover.

Steven Jessop had come back to finish what he had started.

But this time Lia Jennings was ready.

"Get back into the house!"  Steven Jessop snarled menacingly at her. 

He drunkenly lunged at her.

Somehow Lia Jennings found a primal surge of animal aggression rising up from her core.

She screamed ferociously and kicked Jessop squarely in the chest.

He fell back onto the ground and cowered there like a frightened rabbit.

Lia Jennings stood over him.

She looked down upon Steven Jessop as he scrabbled beneath her.

"You bastard!" Lia Jennings sneered.

Then she spat on him.

The cold night air and horror of her predicament had bought Lia Jennings back to life and revived her sufficiently enough to get into her car.

She didn't know where she was going.

But anywhere was better than this hell hole with Steven Jessop.

Jessop had risen and was standing unsteadily now. 

He was like a big black shadow. 

The once handsome face was contorted and twisted with rage.

He looked like the monster that he was.

"Get out of the car!" Steven Jessop commanded her "I'm warning you bitch!"

Lia Jennings sat for a few moments staring at her one time lover. 

She couldn't feel anything anymore.  

It was as if she no longer inhabited her body. 

An eerie peace had descended upon her. 

She was out of her body and looking down at it. 

Lia Jennings swore she could hear angels singing.

"Who's the daddy?" Steven Jessop was repeating over and over again.

His big muscled body seemed to block out all the light.

Just he had attempted to steal the light from within her and to strangle the life out of her.

But Lia Jennings would never allow Steven Jessop to hurt her again.

For a few moments she was convinced that she saw her father standing in front of her. 

She was thirteen again and he had forced himself onto her on the cold floor of the shed. 

Lia Jennings was sobbing loudly and her panties were around her ankles. 

Her father was towering over her. 

He wiped his mouth. 

Then he smiled down at her.

"You're daddy's little angel"

That was when Lia Jennings hit the accelerator.


little doll (by pocketfairy deviantart.com)