Defiant
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Defiant free porn video
Please let me apologize in advance for this story. It is very dark and not very
nice. Certainly not the sort of work most people seem to associate with me. I
can only plead distraction for the quality (or lack) of this work. I have had,
for the last month, increasingly more frequent and severe, stomach pains. I
spent some time today at a local hospital having some thoroughly unpleasant
tests done and I'm afraid that this experience may have colored this work. My
recommendation? Run, don't walk, away from this story and relegate it to the
trash bin where it belongs.
Defiant
By JDG
"Are you sure about this?" The words held an iron that was belied by the
frail blue/white hair that topped the ancient crones head. "There is no going
back once this is done."
Mary sat fidgeting in her chair. She continually twisted the brightly
colored scarf about in her hands. Was she making the right decision? Was it even
a decision she had a right to make? Yes! She believed that... she had to believe
that. She was loosing Tommy. Her little boy. He was all grown up. She thought,
bitterly, how he didn't like her calling him Tommy anymore. "Call me Tom, Mom."
He would say. "Tommy is a little boy's name." Then he would flash that dazzling
smile at her and melt her heart all over again.
Mary knew that young people had to grow up. They had to go out into the
world and live their own lives. But Tommy... her Tommy, he was still so
innocent. So unready for the evils of the world. He was like his father that
way. Always believing the best of others. Always ready to help out. That was
what had taken her Ron out on that rainy night, 12 years ago. It was dark and a
light drizzle was falling. Ron got a call from his brother Dean. Dean's car
wouldn't start and he needed to get something for his son's cold. Could Ron give
him a ride to the ReXall? Of course Ron went.
It's funny how the mind can see things that the eyes never witnessed. Mary
saw her husband approaching that intersection so many times. The wild, reckless,
teenage boys going just that little bit too fast to stop. The bight flash as the
pinto exploded into flames. Ron had hung on for 2 weeks, so badly did he want to
stay with his wife and son.
Mary vividly recalled that first time she saw him after the accident. The
stench. So like roast pork that she could never eat it again. Her stomach roiled
at the memory, and threatened to empty it's contents all over the little house
she sat in. All over the paisley print table cloth and the yellowed linoleum
floor. She choked it back down.
Tommy was her son. Hers! She would protect him in spite of himself. She
thought of how she and her husband had dreamed of two children. A boy first, and
then a girl. A beautiful little girl that she could teach all about life. She
could teach all about being a girl and then, when the time came, a woman. A
child who would grow from child to best girlfriend. A child who would never want
to leave her all alone.
"Yes." She nodded her head slightly. A quick jerky motion that went with
the wild and distant look to her eyes. "I'm sure."
"Then give him this liquid, in a hot drink, just before he goes to bed.
The formulae is very powerful and will do it's work in a single night. In the
morning it will be as you wish."
Mary grabbed the little vial of clear liquid. She stared at it. Was she
being conned? Was she pinning all of her, and Tommy's, hopes on a pipe dream?
But no! She had found Mrs. Borgia on the Internet. She had to be real! The
Internet was the modern electronic highway. If you stayed on the highway, off
the side streets, then you couldn't get blind-sided. Ron's death had taught her
that.
The old woman took the money; all Mary had left of the life insurance
settlement, and tucked it into the top of her blouse. She stared at Mary with
her dark eyes seeming to see into Mary's very soul. It made the middle aged
woman shiver.
She got up to leave. The vinyl of the seat sticking, slightly, to the back
of her legs where her skirt had bunched up. As she walked toward the wooden door
to exit the kitchen, she turned one last time. "Mrs. Borgia... if I'm not being
impertinent... may I ask you a question?"
Her words were halting, as if afraid of being rejected in response. The
old woman had seen it so many times before. Always they thought alchemy could
solve their problems. Always they were wrong.
"Ask."
"You have such wisdom... such power. You could, you should, be wealthy
beyond imagining. Why do you choose to live in such a small house? In such an
old neighborhood?"
"Where should I live? In some great construct of steel and glass, where
people cannot find me? Sometimes it is better to be content with what little we
have, than to be forever yearning for what cannot be."
Mary turned and left. As the screen door closed with a bang she wondered
at the old woman's words.
Tom Jenkins sat in his room. He kept reading and re-reading the same
paragraph in his physics book. He just couldn't concentrate. He had fought with
his Mom and it ate at him. He loved her, far more than she could ever know. When
his Dad had died he was just a kid and his Mom had been there... always there.
But the mothering the small child needed became the smothering that was choking
the life out of the young man. He hadn't planned on leaving home until he was 22
and had completed college, but his Mother just couldn't let him live his own
life.
Tom thought of how she tried to pick out all of his friends. How she tried
to pick out even his girlfriends! She had embarrassed him so many times. He
would have friend's over to spend the night and she would come in with a tray of
hot chocolate and cookies. That was fine when you were 6 or 7 or 8, but when he
was 12 it had been downright embarrassing! Finally he quit asking kids to sleep
over. He never played sports because he was too busy studying, besides sports
were rough and dangerous. His Mom would never have allowed it.
Finally it had all come to a head earlier today. He had finally let all
the pain and humiliation that had been slowly building within him boil over. He
had shouted at her that he wasn't a child anymore. He didn't need her to control
his life anymore. He was moving out when he turned 18, two days after he
graduated High School. His friend Rob had offered to share an apartment with him
near the local university. With the money he got from social security, the
grants and loan's he qualified for, and a part time job he could just about
swing it.
He felt his guts clench up when he remembered the pain in her face. The
single tear trickling from the corner of her eye. She had reached out for him,
but he couldn't face her then or he would cave in. So he had fled from the room.
When he got home, hours later, she had been out. He was worried that, in her
distracted state, she might come to some injury.
It was as he sat in his room, his head spinning with guilty thoughts and
fantasies of the results of his actions earlier, that he heard the car pull into
the garage. She was home... Thank God!
Mary unlocked the door from the garage to the house. Tommy's car was
sitting in it's usual place, and the engine was cool, so he had been home for a
bit. She paused for a moment, unsure if the course she had chosen to walk down
was right or not. Pushing such doubts aside she walked into the kitchen of her
house. It would be so much better after. They would be so happy again. Happier
than they had ever been before.
Mary could see the light shining under Tommy's door. She smiled as she
thought what a good boy he had always been. It was just lately that he had
become so defiant of her. So reckless and foolhardy. But she would save him from
that. Mommy would make it all better.
Knowing that his Mother was home safe had relieved part of Tommy's stress,
but not all. He still had to face her. He wasn't sure he could bear to see the
pain in her face again. The shock and betrayal. A soft knock at his door
startled him out of his musings.
"Tommy... Tom. It's Momma, Honey. Can I come in?"
Rising he went to the door and opened it. His Mother stood in the hallway,
dressed casually, with a tray in her hands. On it was a cup of hot chocolate and
some cookies.
"I know you're a bit old for this." She said shyly. "But I thought it
might be nice if we just sat and talked a bit... like when you were little. You
never minded a cup of hot chocolate and some cookies then. Please?"
It was the please that got him. Looking in her big soft eyes, so like a
frightened rabbit, he couldn't bear to disappoint her yet again. "Sure Mom. That
would be nice." He took the tray and placed it on his desk, moving his physics
book to one side. He took her in his arms then and embraced her. She felt so
small, so helpless. When had she gotten so thin and frail?
Mary snuggled in her son's strong arms. So like his father. It would all
be ok. She knew it would. "Drink your hot chocolate dear, before it gets cold."
Smiling Tom took a tentative drink, and found the temperature tolerable.
The chocolate tasted slightly bitter tonight, or maybe it was the tollhouse
cookies with their dark bakers chocolate that made it seem that way. He and his
Mom talked and laughed for an hour before he began to feel oddly sleepy. Just
like when he was kid. A cup of hot chocolate and he was ready for bed. His Mom
saw him fight to keep his eyes open and smiled to herself. Shortly afterwards
she was slipping from his dark bedroom. His soft breathing the only sound in the
darkness.
"Goodnight Tommy." She smiled into the dark. "Hello Tommi."
Tom's sleep was troubled. He kept seeing his Mom standing before him, like
a giant. Just as he used to see her when he was little. She kept saying that it
was time for Mommies little girl to get dressed. Tom looked and looked but he
couldn't see a girl anywhere. Then she had brought the bright pink dress, with
the big bows, out from behind her back. She smiled as she reached for him. Tom
had screamed in the dream then, but his voice was wrong. It was the shrill high
scream of a little girl. A very frightened little girl.
The scream woke Mary up. It was coming from Tommi's room. Her little girl
must be awake. Ahhh, but soon she would calm down. When her Mommy took her in
her arms and held her, she would make it all better. As Mary put on her robe and
headed toward Tommi's room she thought of the day's ahead. The house had sold,
secretly, a week before. They would be moving out in another week. Moving to a
new home, in a new town, where no one had ever heard of Tom Jenkins. Where there
would only be Mary Jenkins and her lovely little 6-year-old girl, Tommi.
Mary knocked softly on the door. "Tommi? Tommi Honey? It's Mommy. Can I
come in?" Only silence answered her. She opened the door and peered in. On the
big bed lay a tiny cherub. She was beautiful. So like a doll. Her long dark hair
lay tangled about her head in a mass of curls and waves. Her face was the very
face of an angel. Her lashes were long and dark. Her little mouth hung open
slightly. She seemed to be staring at something, off in some indefinable
distance. Tom's big t-shirt lay about her like a dress.
"Tommi?"
The doctor's could do nothing. All they could say was that her daughter
seemed to have suffered some tremendous shock and retreated into herself. Maybe,
if they had some idea what it was, then with years of patient therapy she might
come back. They just couldn't say. There was no way Mary could tell them. There
was no one she could tell... unless...
Mrs. Borgia sat at the same small kitchen table, staring at Mary. It had
been nearly a year since they had last met. Mary looked, if anything, worse now
then she had then. It was always like this.
"I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do."
"But you must! You have to be able to do something!" The woman's voice
cracked with the strain of emotion. Her eyes were red with tears unshed and lack
of sleep. She had developed a tic in her cheek and her hands trembled constantly
now. "Tommi just stares. She never talks, or moves. I have to feed her and
change her like an infant. This isn't what I wanted!"
"Was it what your son wanted?" Her word's shocked Mary. "Did you ever once
stop to consider what this might do to him? This was your fantasy...now you have
it. That's the thing about fantasies... the reality is never what you expect.
His soul is bruised, and not all the magic in the world can repair that. He has
been betrayed, completely. His very body has betrayed him, and now she is lost.
I'm sorry."
All during the long trip home Mary had kept replaying Mrs. Borgia's words
in her mind. "Was it what your son wanted? Did you ever once stop to consider
what this might do to him? This was your fantasy... your fantasy... your
fantasy."
Home at last Mary paid the nurse who stayed with her little Tommi when she
had to go out. "It's such a pity." The woman had said, shaking her head sadly.
"She's such a beautiful little girl."
Mary turned to her daughter after the woman had left. She looked so
beautiful... so perfect. It shouldn't have been like this. She had wanted her
son to be her little girl. The little girl she never had. To be with her,
needing her forever, and now she had that. Forever. She stared at her Tommi, the
tears welling in her eyes, as she smelled the odor. Her daughter needed her.
FINI
Louise
- 31.03.2020
- 15
- 0
