Life is always a challenge. Especially to young Torina Montgomery. Her life takes a turn for the better when she and her family move to a new house, a new town....damn, and even a new country. But these aren't the only new things that the quiet, introspective girl experiences. Love can appear under the most innocent of circumstances. Wanting someone is one thing, but actually taking them is another. Particularly when what you really long for is totally taboo....and totally forbidden.
Umm hmmm. This is an
original fiction so..... These ladies are ALL mine! Bwahahahaha!
- This is dedicated to my gorgeous Baby. You know who you are. I love you soooooo much. Come and dance with me Baby tonight. I'm thinking of and needing your touch. I love you.To quote Little Shop Of Horrors.....FEED ME!!!!!!
Hi. The name's Tori. Torina Paulette Montgomery to be precise. And I'm fed up. So VERY fed up. Do me a favour will ya? Please, please, pretty please with a huge dollop of whopping big sugar on top will you tell me; how comes life always has to be so bloody complicated? My life was fine. Well. As fine as it could be, for me that is. I was happy. I was content, for an average 16-year-old girl. I went to school regularly and I enjoyed achieving good grades then strutting around like the cleverest dick in the world when I got the chance to wave my well deserved 'A's in my little brother's petulant face.Shit, I even had a couple of goofy kids who I hung around with most of the time who could have passed as what people call friends. Family life has always been quirky at best. But you know how it is; every family has its troubles. Not any morethough. Nope. My dad is 100% certain that all our problems are over and done with. For now and forever we're gonna be having a happily ever after. I say bollocks to that! Did they actually even ask me to see if I wanted one? No-siree. Him and Mum's problems may be over but I know that mine have only just begun.
You see, I'm sitting here, presently writing in my dear diary as that annoying hot sun beats down on my pale, presently sizzling skin, something that I've definitely inherited from my English ancestors. I've always done that writing I mean, not whinging about the hot sun. It's something my Grammy taught me to do, to write down my thoughts and feelings whenever I felt that no one else would understand me. Heh. I'm always writing in this damned thing, so what does that say, huh?I loved my Grammy to bits, but she passed away a couple of years ago. Don't think there'll ever be a day in my life that doesn't go by when I don't miss her terribly. She was my buddy, my sole confident. The only one that was even half way willing to accept me and my 'strangeness' ( as my mother so lovingly calls it ).
Perhaps I am a bit strange but hey, name me a teenage girl that isn't less than slightly abnormal. Bet you can't, can you? Ha! That's because there's no such thing as normal. I've come to the conclusion that it's just some stupid idea that the government tries to shove in your brain, so that we all conform and become replicas of one another. Tough luck though to the guys in power. I'm one chick that will never follow the crowd like a little lost sheep. Nope. I'm too stubborn for that. I'd like to think that I actually have my own individuality.Shit, you have to be crazy to survive childhood trials now a days anyways, so I really don't get what all this fuss about not being normal is all about. I seriously think sometimes that my mother really needs to just..... chill out and smoke some weed or something. Ok, so maybe I'm not the perfect girly-girl daughter she wished for, but hey, you can't have everything you want in life, now can you? To be honest, I quite enjoy annoying the shit out of her. She's really funny about appearances and other crap like that. Heh. Listen to me. I'm making myself out to be some type of rebel, now aren't I? Well, to be brutally honest, I'm not a total rebel. I hate to admit it, but approval from my 'rents is quite a biggy in my life. I love the both of them, even though they do tend to get up my nose on the odd occasion.....like every five minutes or so. Heh heh.
Anyways. What the hell was I talking about before I got side tracked? Oh yeah. I'm presently sitting out here on our front lawn, watching as my dear Papa helps to unload the frigging removal van full of our furniture. I'm supposed to be helping out too.....but hey, I've got better things to do. Like this for instance. I like to watch other people do things. I've always been more of a watcher than a doer. I record what I see and speculate on what I don't understand, which believe me is quite a lot of things recently.One major thing that is pissing me off and confusing the fuck outta me is the fact that my parents don't seem to understand why I'm so damned miserable that we've moved here. They think it's perfect. Cute little Merston, N.J. USA. Well excuse me for not doing great bloody big cartwheels, but I was quite happy where I was in scruffy old Blackburn, England.
If Grandpa Joe were still alive he would have had a fit if he knew that we'd moved countries. He loved his England did that old fellow. But no, his only son and immediate family has now emigrated over here to chase that ever elusive suburban utopia of the American dream. Phu-leeeze. When will people realise that it's not where you are that makes you happy? If you're a sad git, that sorrow is just going to follow you around like a dark shadow no matter where you go. Hmmm, I'm sounding like quite the hypocrite, ain't I? I mean, I'm complaining about moving house here. I'm sure it can't be too bad. So far everyone seems.....passably sane. At best. That's gotta be a good point, right? Hmmm, we'll see.Whoops. Gotta go. Pops is shouting at me to get off my lazy arse and actually do some work. Yeah, right. What does he think I am? His slave or something? Then again.....he has promised to let me decorate my own room if I'm a 'good girl'. Hummph. And here I was thinking black mail was illegal. Suppose I'd better go and lend a hand. That means I can do whatever I want with my new room. Such as painting it a dull, lifeless grey and having padded walls installed. Ha ha! That would be fab. Ahhh, there are many, many delightful and ultimately pleasurable ways to drive my mother insane. This'll be one of them. Think I'm evil? Damn right I am! And proud of it too! Later.
Gods, that brother of mine is such a pest! I swear that boy is seriously retarded or something. Mum as always is babying over him. You see, we've been here all of five minutes and he's gotten himself into a fix already. Matthew has always been a bit of a show off. He likes the limelight. Mum calls it confidence......I call it attention seeking. Matt should have known better to go off half-cocked around the neighbourhood, sniping at other kids about how superior he is.You see, my lil' bro thinks that he's a king or something at the moment, all because he's the only native English guy around with the accent and everything. I mean please. Who gives a crap anyways? But apparently the kids of Wesbrook Avenue do.
There seems to be civil war afoot.....and dear little Matt is the cause of it. Half of the kids love Matt and his snotty attitude. He's just something new and different for them to wonder about. The kid does actually have a way with people though, so I must give him some credit. But the other half of the neighbourhood kinda just wants to kick his scrawny little arse. I can't say I blame them. He can be a pompous bugger at times. I mean, how stupid can that boy be? Silly question. This is Matthew Montgomery we're talking about. An 11 year old with an ego bigger than the Empire State building. Mum says he's just showing authority. Apparently it's good to have a very 'in your face' attitude. I swear I could see Mum tsk-tsk and shake her head at me when she said that one. That woman is obsessed with how inadequate I am....but I know that she does love me. She has to, for appearance sake if nothing else.Soooo. That was how Matt became buddies with Sean Cunningham. Sean decided to take our Matt's side and hurled stones at the other kids. Nice, huh? Can't half tell that kid was brought up well. If in doubt, lob stones at your rivals until they bleed to death or run away. I can't wait to see what Mr and Mrs. Cunningham are like since they've obviously been teaching their son the ethic rules of how to be a true caveman. Hummph. Sean and his family are actually some of our closest neighbours - geographically speaking.
I've seen Sean's older brother, Dale; zoom about the town in an old orange trashy car. He's a tall gangly lad, with sandy blonde hair. He's roughly about the age of 17/18. Don't know how old he really is.....nor do I care enough to find out. My friend Sara from back home in England would have said he was dreamy. He is cute I suppose, but there's certainly no fire works going off for me whenever I see him. Nope.I've yet to meet a guy that makes my heart sing, ring, ping and all that over gooky stuff that my friends used to flutter on about. Seriously, I think I'd rather watch a good soccer match on TV than get dressed up and flirt with a group of spotty teenaged boys that do nothing but grope at the fly of their jeans when they're not tryin' to grope at you. Urrgh. Please! Someone pass me the sick bag!
Back to Matt and Sean. They've decided that they're gonna be best buddies from now on. Oh happy days. Another cocky 11 year old of the male species running around the house screaming and hollering like a frigging squished frog. Hopefully they'll enjoy playing over at Sean's house more than here. Maybe if I do the fierce scowling face at them all the time they'll get the picture and vamoose. I need my peace and quiet, boring git that I am. Heh. Oh bollocks! There's Mum again. Time to hide in my room. Later folks.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get. Oh dear, darling Forrest, how right you were. Except I KNOW what I'm going to be getting if I get caught writing in my diary one more time. Detention. Bloody shitty school. Mowsby High is full of a bunch of pooh eating idiots. Anyone out there that feels like swooping out of the sky and saving me in the near future is more than welcome to do so! Any offers?......Silence. Typical. Just frigging typical. Hummph.
My English teacher, Ms.Holbrook is a right bitch. For some strange reason she's assumed that just because I'm English that I actually know everything there is to bloody know about the language. Argggh! I mean, c'mon! Who's the teacher here? Her or me? I'll be perfectly honest and say that I hate Shakespeare with a vengeance and that what I know about English grammar wouldn't have enough power to knock the top off a bottle. But did that stop her from just assuming things about me? Nope.As always I've been made to look a fool in front of all these nice neat students who keep staring at me as though I'm some sort of freak. Perhaps I am freakish....but so are they! Well, at least some of them are! I mean, please, they look like little cardboard cut outs of one another, all perfect and scaringly similar in their speech and actions. Hmmm, Houston we may have a problem....seems the government's evil scheme for conformity is actually working. Invasion of the body snatchers, here we come! Big whooping thumbs up guys.
Plus there's this guy in the front that keeps staring at me. He's got bright ginger hair, almost as if someone's set his head on fire. I'll set more than his head on fire if he keeps looking at me like that. Surely I'm not that interesting? Yeah, I've been told I've got a pretty face before and I know that I've got a good bod. I like sports.....they help to keep me in shape. He's actually sitting next to Dale Cunningham, Sean's older brother. Joy of joys, Dale's actually in most of the same classes as me. Whoopee. Does my enthusiasm enthral you? Yeah. I knew it would....NOT! God, I'm getting bitter in my old age. I'm gonna have to stop all of this sarcastic derision towards others. Not everyone can be bad. Right? Right.So back to this ginger dude. Would it be so wrong of me to go over there and demand his eyes on a plate since they more or less have been glued to me for the past half hour anyways? Dammit. Holbrook is looking over at me again. What a cow she is. I'm gonna stick her in a field and watch her in her natural setting amongst other shit eaters. Ah ah! Tori! Remember to be nice. Mummy dearest wishes it to be so and so it must be done. Urggh. I'd better try though. Heaven knows I need to start making some friends...and soon. Can't have mother thinking I'm a social outcast. It'd just be another thing that she could get at me for, so there's no buggery way I'm gonna be letting that happen! Nuh-uh!
Perhaps I should join a club or something? Drama? Debate team? Cheerleaders....urgh. Scrap the last one. There's no way I'm gonna parade around on a little skirt flashing my cute lil' ass to drooling footballers and the rest of the world. Nope. Those cheeks are mine to do what I want with them and so they're gonna be staying out of the public eye - indefinitely. Hmmm. Then again....the weather here is so different to England. It's a lot bloody warmer, that's a given. Back in Blackburn at this time of year I'd be wrapped up in my warmest clothes....but now, over here, I'm gonna have to rethink my wardrobe. Maybe Dad'll give me some money to splurge on some new outfits. Important! Note to self: kiss Daddy's arse for a while, because we all know what that equals to, now don't we? Yup. More money for his dear darling daughter. Heh. Father's can be so susceptible to their darling little daughter's charms. Lots of evil laughter going on here people.Oh bugger in hell! Here comes Holbrook again and by the looks of it she's seen what I'm doing.....Shit. Too late....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Continued in Part 2