Showing posts with label Bedroom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bedroom. Show all posts

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Busted


Cami Delmore had never looked more beautiful. Chocolate brown hair, strawberry red lips, icy blue eyes, and a body deserving of the many bikinis she wore in these modeling photos. Owen Finley sat in front of his computer clicking through these photos while having a wide-awake wet dream. Something about this felt so wrong, yet it was so right. This was the perfect way to wake up in the morning. Every day, pictures of Cami making his life so wonderful. And then…

“Owen!” shouted a feminine voice from the bedroom doorway. The teenager turned around and covered himself up with his hands while his stepmother stared him down with a look of shock and seriousness. “Breakfast is on the table. It’s oatmeal and honey. Come on down before it gets cold,” said Cami before shutting the bedroom door.

“Come on down? Is she kidding me?” panicked Owen as his arousal went flat. He scrambled as fast as he could to find clothing for the day. Black jeans? Check. A Green Day T-shirt? Check. Sneakers? Check. He never dressed himself so quickly in his lifetime. Was there time to eat the honey oatmeal? “Fuck the oatmeal, I’m out of here!” he said to himself.

He grabbed his backpack and bolted toward the door, but stopped midway knowing Cami’s judging eyes would be zeroed in on him throughout the morning. His hand trembled on the doorknob at the thought of being scrutinized by her. He’d probably never get an erection again, nor would he want one. Maybe his balls would be cut off with an olive fork. Maybe his dick would be broken with a meat tenderizer. Maybe his face would be slashed open with a butcher knife.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Owen murmured while trying to think of a better escape route. Of course! The window! He snapped his fingers at the idea and made a beeline for the fresh air outside. He didn’t care if it was a tall drop to the outside; he jumped anyways. A sore ankle was better than being castrated by his own stepmother and it was the former he got. He hobbled and limped towards the bus stop looking like hell.

The whole school day was nothing but a numbed out blur. Math homework? What math homework? Gym class? Who needs that? US history? The revolutionary war actually happened? No shit! Owen almost got in trouble in class several times for his incessant shaking. The laughter from his various classmates made him tremble that much harder. But when asked about his quirky behavior, he kept giving false answers and otherwise remained tightlipped. He kept looking down at his own crotch to make sure he didn’t get an erection in the middle of a lecture.

By the time the school bus dropped him back off at his house, Owen took his sweet time getting to the front door. The front door? He couldn’t go there. Cami was probably waiting for him with a pair of surgical scissors. These thoughts brought a weakness to his stomach and jitteriness to his legs. Where was the goddamn ladder when he needed it? He snapped his fingers once again as he remembered it was in the tool shed.

He heaved the clumsy metal object towards his bedroom window and became winded after the anaerobic exercise for the day. Owen’s heavy breathing was for more reasons than that. He tried so hard to calm his stomach down and shake the feeling back in his rolled ankle. By the time he actually started climbing, the ankle pain flared up like a burning building, almost to where he fell off several times. He hurried as fast as he could up the metal device and successfully made it through the window.

Owen’s energy was completely sapped from his body and all he wanted to do was lie in bed and sleep it off. If he never woke up again, it would mean never having to talk to Cami. Mission accomplished. Not one awkward conversation was had. Not one genital was snipped. Not one more look of anger from the object of misplaced affection. Or at least so he thought.

“We need to talk,” was the quote the snapped him awake. Sure enough, Cami was standing right there in his doorway with her arms folded and her face emboldened. Now Owen really started to sweat. His eyebrows shot up to the ceiling while his eyeballs moistened and trembled. This was it. He was a dead man. He crawled backwards toward the window only to have Cami yell, “Hey!” at him several times and drag him back inside by his ankles.

“Let me go, damn it! Let me the fuck go!” shouted Owen, but nobody could hear him and he wasn’t going anywhere with Cami pinning his legs together on the bed. He tried screaming some more. “I’m sorry! I’m fucking sorry! Now please let me go!” It was no use. Cami held her hand over Owen’s mouth and the only other screams that came were capital M’s. He could thrash around all he wanted, but there was no escape from what he perceived to be a trip to the gallows. Owen couldn’t help but let a few soggy tears out.

And then Cami’s demeanor changed when she removed her hand from Owen’s mouth and instead petted his puffy black hair. She whispered, “It’s okay” to him over and over again until the stepson stopped shaking. His tears wouldn’t stop coming, but he was at least calm enough to sit on the bed and have a real conversation with the new family member he masturbated to this morning. He couldn’t even look her in the eyes. He kept his head down and allowed his tears to stain his jeans.

“Owen? Look at me,” she said, finally getting his semi-relaxed attention. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Not at all. I was more worried about you than I was angry. You left this morning without eating your breakfast. Come here,” she said while hugging her crying stepson around the shoulders. “You don’t need to be afraid to talk to me. I may not have given birth to you myself, but I’m still your mother. Nothing will ever change that, do you understand?”

Owen wiped the tears away with his wrist and sobbed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Look, I know you don’t take kindly to being embarrassed and that’s okay. You’re a sensitive guy and I respect that. But we need to talk about what happened this morning. I saw what you did and I saw who you were doing it to. Can we please just talk about this and not avoid each other anymore?”

Snorting snot up his nose, Owen said, “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Cami hugged her stepson some more and rocked him back and forth while she talked. “There’s nothing wrong with masturbating, Owen. It’s perfectly normal. Everybody does it whether they like to admit it or not. I bet there’re some preachers in our neighborhood who do it too even though they don’t say anything. I’m sorry I walked in on you like that. I’ll knock next time, okay?”

She kissed him on top of his head and rocked him some more. “But here’s the part I want you to understand. You and I can never be together that way. You know that, right? It would tear our family apart. Your dad would divorce me and he’d never forgive either of us. On top of that, you’re only fourteen years old, Owen. You’re way too young to have sex, let alone with someone my age. I’ll still be your mother and you’ll still be my son. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Owen’s cheeks burned a bright red as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Cami. I really am. I feel stupid right now…”

“Hey,” said Cami while pointing her stepsons chin up with her delicate fingers. “You’re not stupid. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. You’re a teenager. This is what teenagers do. You’re just figuring out the world around you. And that’s okay. Besides, it’s not my place to tell you what you can and can’t fantasize about.” She pointed at his head and said, “What goes in on here is nobody else’s business but your own. Your mind is the last sanctuary you have.”

Owen’s jaw stopped convulsing and he could actually get words out this time. “I don’t know, Cami. I’m taking this sex ed class, right? And I don’t even want to ask anything in front of everybody because they’re a bunch of giggly assholes. Besides, the teacher won’t stop talking about abstinence and STD’s and shit. Yeah, like that’s going to do a lot of good. I’m already fucked up as it is!” Owen’s last sentence was punctuated by him kicking his own backpack and Cami holding him even tighter to calm him down.

“Sounds to me like you’re not getting a real education out of that class. I want you to listen to me, Owen. Forget everything that teacher taught you. There’s more to sex than just getting green stuff on your penis. There’s more to romance than waiting until you’re married. That’s all bullshit and it doesn’t work. If you see a girl at school that you like, don’t be afraid to introduce yourself to her. Treat her like an equal and she’ll treat you the same way. I should probably have a talk with the principal at your school.”

“No, Cami, you can’t do that! If the rest of the school finds out you…”

Cami shushed her stepson three times and petted his hair some more. “Nobody else has to know that I talked with him. It’ll just be a one on one conversation. They shouldn’t be teaching that abstinence crap anyways. It’s not realistic. There’s a lot they’re not talking about that they should. Do you even know how to use a condom?”

Owen shook his head and Cami sighed in disgust. “Yeah,” she said. “I should definitely have a talk with that principal. In the meantime, you’ve got homework to do. I’ll leave you alone and let you do that. And remember, if you have any questions that you don’t want to share in front of the class, you can share them with me. Okay? I love you.” She kissed him on the head again and proceeded towards the bedroom door. “Good talk tonight, son. Let’s do it again sometime.”

“Uh, Cami?”

“Yes?”

“C….could you not tell dad about what happened this morning?”

Cami smiled and made a lip-zipping motion to solidify her silence. She then waved at him and closed the bedroom door behind her. Owen plopped backwards on his bed and breathed heavy sighs of relief. Embarrassment still clung to him tightly and the tears still hadn’t dried up. But at least now he knew what he needed to do. He slowly picked his exhausted body off the bed and proceeded to delete all of Cami’s pictures from his computer. “I need this family. I love her too much for this bullshit,” Owen said to himself.

Monday, February 19, 2018

Don't Wake the Baby

VERSE 1
Dreaming of scratches behind her ears
Sleeping on my bed for the rest of her years
Such a sweet little fuzzy lady
Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

VERSE 2
Dreaming of a buffet table of tuna fish
A quart of milk in her favorite dish
Is this reality? Well, just maybe
Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

VERSE 3
Dreaming of gentle warmth from the heater
Drooling like a fountain, her dreams get sweeter
A kitty kiss on the cheek is what she gave me
Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

FINAL VERSE
Waking up to a brand new day
Only to fall asleep again anyways
She needs every hour of beauty rest
Her forever home is truly the best
She gives me the biggest goofy grin
Every time I scratch her under the chin
She purrs like the sweetest kitty lady

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Watching Paint Dry

***WATCHING PAINT DRY***

I’ve done a lot of journals over the past few weeks talking about real life commitments. These commitments have kept me from meeting creative deadlines, but I don’t sweat it, because these house chores need to be done in a timely fashion. I’ll admit that all of these concerts I’ve been going to have been extracurricular when it comes to managing my energy, but there’s a reason I categorize them under life events on Face Book: because I may never get another chance to see these kick-ass bands in my home state. I’m pretty sure this is what that DeVry University commercial is talking about when they say, “Life is rich, full, and beautifully exhausting.”

The beautiful exhaustion will continue over the next few days, maybe even weeks. Ever since coming home from the Pain in the Grass festival on Sunday, I’ve been helping my family paint the walls of Reina and James’s bedrooms as well as helping them replace their flooring with new and fresh material. The next bedroom to be painted and remodeled will be mine. This whole process involves moving everything out of that particular room before the work is started. In my room alone, I have a computer desk, a Sleep Number bed, a book shelf, two chests of drawers, god knows what else.

Not only is this kind of intensive labor going to be taxing on my body and mind, but since my room is next, it means I’ll have to unplug my computer and move that somewhere else. I already have a bad internet connection now that the range extender in James’ room has been temporarily unplugged. Having an unplugged computer means minimal creative output and missed deadlines for beta reading and book reviewing. With that being said, I owe Andy Peloquin and Marie Krepps the biggest apologies for not being able to keep my commitments to them. Yes, I know that real life gets in the way of the most brilliant projects, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.

The entire month of August has been one chaotic cluster-fuck of physical labor and mental exhaustion. It’s taken a toll on the entire family. Forgive me if I sound whiny, because that’s not the message I’m trying to send. I love my family and I want us to live in a good-looking and clean house. All I’m saying is that if you don’t see me online for a while or if you’re getting impatient about a commitment I’ve made to you, this is why. I always pride myself on being there for the people in my life that matter the most. While my online friends fit that bill, my real life family fits it as well. This needs to be done and we’re not going to stop working until it is.

On that note, I’d like to thank all of you for being supportive and understanding during this tiring moment in our lives. Normalcy will be restored to this house soon enough. Until then, it’s time to shatter those millennial stereotypes of laziness and turn this house into a Port Orchard paradise!


***TELEVISION QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“We’re going to deal with this the way any reasonable adult would: by ignoring it.”


-Ric Flair on an episode of “Camp WWE”-

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Crazy Days

***CRAZY DAYS***

The past few days have been crazy for me and my family. They may have had an impact on my creative life, they may not have. Either way, if I don’t write this journal entry, I feel like it’ll be a wasted opportunity. Make of these three stories what you will.


***DALE***

This past Friday, my step-dad Dale was taken to the emergency room for flank pain. The hospital did all sorts of tests on him to find out why and it turns out he has a massive kidney stone. They’ve tried to flush it out of him, but the stone is too big to pass through, so earlier today, they had it surgically removed. As of now, I haven’t had an update as to how the surgery went, but I imagine Dale will just want to relax and take it easy when he’s finally discharged from the hospital. He can watch all the basketball and detective shows he wants with Sitka sprawled across his lap. I’m positive about his ability to recover from this since he’s had worse and survived that. I just hope he’ll be in a laughing mood when I do impressions of him and his funny dialogue during car trips.


***RAT INFESTATION***

Ever since the start of this year, it’s been the Haines-Temons-Stevens-Wilson family going to war with wild rats, who have invaded our home and came out of the woodwork whenever they damn well wanted. We’ve had rats in our kitchens and bathrooms mostly and over the last few months we’ve made progress with curtailing their population. And then a few nights ago as I was trying to sleep, I saw a giant rat running around in my room looking for hiding places. It ran behind my mini-fridge, behind my computer desk, underneath my TV stand, and across my bookcase. Naturally, I was so scared that I lost sleep over it. We tried to trap it last night, but the little fucker didn’t take the bait. I know what you’re thinking: how can an animal lover like me condone trapping wild rats? You should probably ask the same question to anybody living in medieval England during the black plague. Except you can’t, because they’re fucking dead!


***CHILD LURING***

Earlier today, there was an incident in which someone in a blue truck with an extended canopy drove around our neighborhood looking for little kids. A police report has already been filed, but the only information we’re missing is the driver’s license plate. I have a twelve-year-old niece named Reina who likes to walk to the convenience store and the school playground every once and a while and I’ll be damned if she becomes the next Jaycee Dugard. The truck shouldn’t be too hard to find, so I hope the police catch this asshole before he actually succeeds in kidnapping a little girl.


***CONCLUSION***

The thing to remember during these “crazy days” is that if you believe you can get through them, you definitely will. While these three stories are still in the process of resolving themselves, I’m confident that things will be back to normal in no time. I’ve got a creative task list a mile long and I’d love nothing more than to knock the items off that list like a wild motherfucker. We can do this, people. We can do this!


***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Excuse me, sir, can I see your driver’s license? No, sir, I don’t need a beer and I don’t think you do either. Mr. Foxworthy, do you know why I pulled you over today? It concerns the vehicle you’re towing behind you. No, sir, it’s not against the law to tow a boat, but we do require you put it on a trailer. Can you ask your friends to get out of the boat please? I don’t give a damn if the fish are biting, I said ask your friends to get out of the boat. Hell, you dropped a skier about a mile back there.”

-Jeff Foxworthy doing an impression of a patrol cop pulling his dad over-


***POST-SCRIPT***


One of the ways you can get through a hard time in your life is by enjoying comedic moments whether they’re from Jeff Foxworthy, Bill Engvall, George Carlin, or any other source of giggles and chuckles. I hope that Jeff Foxworthy bit was to your guys’ liking. Keeping with the theme of positivity, I saw Ghostbusters last night at the Regal Cinemas and it was fucking awesome!