FYI: This is NOT a sequel to the story I posted earlier today.

In the dress shop two weeks before Prom.

Mother: It’s a lovely dress and you just look fabulous in it but it’s really expensive, James.

James: Mom! It’s not MY fault we’re here!

Thirteen is an awkward age, stranded somewhere between ‘just a kid’ and ‘old enough to know better’. At thirteen Halloween costumes are the peak of uncool; trick or treating is something for babies, and high school parties are a long way away. But that wouldn’t stop Grayson from making the most of the holiday.

Smile

My father was admitted to the hospital and I, without any fight, was admitted into a cell at juvenile hall. I wasn’t as miserable as I thought I would be. I was held over the weekend without visitors.

Lindsey, or Lyle to his friends and acquaintances, was recently retired and was celebrating his 61st birthday with lunch with two long term friends. It was a fairly low key lunch at a rustic old café in the nearby mountains with a couple of long term friends. Several others of his childhood friends and their spouses, due to work and other commitments, could not attend but had sent gifts and well wishes with Jack and Bill.

A writer is only content twice in their life: When they first think of a story idea and when they receive a check for the book sales.
Unless they’re writing a series; and then it becomes a never-ending Catch-22 of idea beget idea, but it’s needed on page three hundred of book four and not on page ten of the second chapter of book two. That was my life for three years. It was my fault to begin with. I mean, I titled the series “Four Seasons of Love” with the first book called “Autumn Amore”.

The fight started in the summer before my freshman year.
It was verbally bloody and nothing was off-limits; no words were barred.

In the blue corner, my sister, who was five months pregnant
In the red corner, my parents; who were not pissed about the pregnancy but more over the fact she had left home for a week and never said where she went.

Push

I spent Sunday morning in my bed.

I removed my storm window to break into my room and I then slammed my small dresser against the frame. It did squat to prevent anyone, like, say, John, from actually getting in but it made me feel a little better. However the good vibes vanished in seconds as what happened replayed in my head like a bad cut scene.

Complicated

Seventh grade was a time of extreme ups and downs.

I’m not going to bore with you with my yo-yo-in attitudes as I felt terrified as my voice cracked one day and went like a freaking octave lower. This quasi-baritone like voice (in my opinion) didn’t match up with the rest of me and I hated it.

It was also during this time that my older sister started hanging out with a new set of neighbors down the road. I can’t say I remember her name but unfortunately I can remember her brother, John, too well.

The encounter with Carl Delaforge in "Commutation" was a bit depressing so let’s cheer up and revisit the family from “Where did I go wrong?”, only two years later. If you haven’t read that story this will contain spoilers.

I was not feeling very well coming down into the living room that Saturday morning. What I saw there did NOT make me feel any better. The room was a mess! A ridiculously short, and expensive looking, sparkly blue dress on the floor. On the same floor some flimsy lace black thong panties featured prominently. Black 5 inch heel shoes thrown around, one on the floor, the other in an armchair. A bra, that matched the panties in material, color and sexiness, in the other armchair. Stockings, and garter belt draped across the back of the couch. A couch that by all evidence had been used to have wild, wanton sex on. Fortunately I couldn’t see any stains and the used condom had missed the carpet, Who could be responsible for this?

Cheryl? No, she’d never wear five inch heels. Wait, five inch heels? Michael!!!

Usually I write, to quote a Guest Reader, ”short, light and witty tales”. However, every now and then I post a dark story. This is a rather dark story. Actually I think it’s quite dark which is why I have flagged CAUTION above. Please note that there is a reason why.

I never liked driving into town. People acted strangely around me so I usually stayed on my property and put off going as long as I could. Now I really needed the petrol so this morning I went into town. ”Old” Tom at the petrol station wondered why I filled up three jerry cans of petrol. I told him that I was getting old and the new ride-on mower was a gas guzzler. The lawn between the Old House and the lake is huge. So is the Old House. My family built it some 200 years ago. Then we had already owned the land for over a century. Quite a lot of land. Most of it still untouched forests, lakes and mountains. Most people never realized where the border between the National Park and the Delaforge land was. We have always had a very strong bond - the Delaforges and the land.

Chapter 2

My memory of that night was pretty disjointed. I know Jen ordered room service and vaguely remember picking at some food, but for the life of me, I couldn't tell you what it was. I woke up with a full bladder in one of Jen's PJ's. Evidence suggested that I must of taken my clothes off and put on Jen's. My recollection about that was sadly lacking.

Paige called 999 to get an ambulance as well as the police to respond then stopped Anil before he ran off. Anil looked up at Paige and knew that he wasn't going anywhere, but seeing Elise caused him to try to back away in fear before Paige could ask him anything. Elise was told to go back to the car and stay there, she would handle Anil as Elise was just scaring him and making things worse for the boy.

I finally had tricked my wife into a bet where as her forfeit she’d finally do something in the bedroom that she’d absolutely refused to do ever since that first crazy night of debauchery we’d spent together. There was no way I could lose the bet. I was really looking forward to collecting since there was no conceivable way I could lose. I could already smell the sweet smell of victory. The only thing I was worried about was that reality wouldn’t live up to memory.

I lost.

Mercy's adventure is over, but there are still some loose ends to tie up.

Wednesday morning as I entered the office Veronica in reception greeted me

- Hi, James. Nice to see you dressed properly again.

I hated it. Just because I decided to joke the Friday before and come dressed in a skirt, a nice blouse that just barely showed the bra under it, pantyhose and shoes with a bit of a heel my life was utterly and completely destroyed. My girlfriend and I had thought it would be hilarious and she had helped me to put on some make-up. Nothing over the top. Just some nice make-up that actually made my 25 year old but unfortunately rather babyish face a bit more mature.

At first everything went according to plan. The other engineers got the joke and had fun comparing my outfit with the usual “dress code” at the design office, i.e. jeans, baggy college shirts and such. Actually I was the only one in a skirt. Not that there were many females among us but anyway. I also got compliments from other people that I met while going from one place another. In one morning I had become modestly famous in the company. Then things started to go wrong, terribly, horribly wrong.

After an unforgettable day of 'exploring trust' Mercy has her most horrifying challenge ahead.
To bring her friend back to life.