1. One, Five, Fifteen


    Date: 11/9/2014, Categories: Taboo, Author: Metilda, Rating: 16, Source: LushStories

    Anxious jitters popped and sizzled inside me as I stood at my bedroom window—the only one with a decent view of our street—and waited for a candy apple Miata to pull around the corner. I would do it this time. I would . I told myself that countless times before but this time I was sure of it. It was November, after all, and time was running out. This time I had a plan. Better yet, I had evidence. A file filled with evidence that I could use in my favor. I was pretty certain that one aspect was squared away—my step father wanted me. What I wasn't certain of was whether or not he would care if I used it in an attempt to get what I wanted: tickets to the Hawaii. What better place for a girl to travel over Christmas Vacation with her best friends? As I waited for him to arrive I rehearsed my part. It would be dramatic—the file smacking firmly to the table, me standing with my arms crossed, glaring at him and calling him a perverted twit. The problem, though, wasn't with my end of the deal. It was with his. He was hard to read sometimes, coming across as the latent-decision type who waited until the last moment before making up his mind. I bounced on my toes as I rehearsed my lines again, exploring a few different paths of resistance that were most likely to be met, until that shimmering red of his car caught the afternoon light. He drew nearer, red flashing between green leaves and brown branches, and then he flicked on his turn signal—a habit that always made me laugh—before ...
    turning into the driveway. I ignored that sick nervous feeling that bubbled in my stomach and snatched up the file. Light, feeling certain this would go exactly how I planned, I leapt and hopped down the stairs. My step-father wasn't a bad man, I will say in his defense. We were not related, you see? He married my mother when I was three and though that makes him as close to blood kin as possible in the eyes of others, it was clear that he and I did not see each other in that way. I struggled to hold him in any respectful regard, and he apparently struggled to do the same for me. There was something I couldn't quite explain about him that put me off and away even long before I had discovered his dirty little secrets. My therapist explained that it was Father-Daughter Displacement. I was casting my resentment over my natural father leaving me onto my step-father and blaming him for matters out of his control. Very Freudian: "You see, sweet girl, you have vat ve call zhe issuez." Well that seemed to hold water for quite some time and I truly took that into mind. When I turned eighteen, however, it became clear to both my mother and step-father that I was what they called gifted—and I don't mean that in regard to intelligence or what not. No, I mean that in regard to all the spooky things that doctors don't think exist, that my mother doesn't even believe in . . . The gift of insight. Of knowing other people's intentions and actions. Oh I could count all the many times in my life ...
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