A Genny Story My Little Lamb
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My GirlsChapter 18 free porn video
Victoria and Amy wrote the following chapter. To avoid confusion, parts written by Victoria will be in italics.
Amy:
My name is Amy Phillips. I am the 13-year-old daughter of Patrick and Victoria Phillips. I found this file on my Dad's computer when I was searching for clues to his mysterious black out. I got bored just watching him sleep and decided to add some stuff here. Won't that be fun when he finds it! Giggle! I haven't read the contents of this file. I won't do that unless he tells me I can read it, that would be an invasion of privacy. He respects mine, and I respect his. That's why I may repeat things on here that he may have already said. If there are contradictions, I'm right and he's wrong. Giggle!
Has he told you I'm a genius? Giggle! I have other talents too, some of which he doesn't know about yet. He hates it when I say that; he envisions awful teenager things that he would just as soon not think about. So I would say it even if it weren't true, just to drive him crazy. Giggle!
Actually, my twin sister Cindi, who was killed in a car accident two months ago (sad face), was smarter than I am. No one knew that except her and me. She tried her best to hide it. She would do anything to make people happy. One time I noticed she missed questions on an exam that I knew she knew the answer to. She told me later, after much probing, that she did it so I could stay number one in class ranking. She knew how important it was to me. She never wanted people, even Mom and Dad, to know how smart she was. Sometimes she would deliberately do dumb things just to hide it. I miss her so much!
Katie, my best friend now, helps a lot, but I still really miss Cindi. Katie's a lot like Cindi, even looks like her, so that helps a lot. I think that really hurts Daddy sometimes when he looks at her. Mom and Dad are talking about adopting Katie. That would be so neat!
My Dad and Mom are just the greatest parents in the world. All my friends are in love with my Daddy (so am I! Giggle!), and have adopted Mom as their Mom away from home. Mom is not around much — she travels a lot. She's a computer troubleshooter; just ask her, that's what she'll tell you. Dad and I know better. She thought she was pulling the wool over Dad's eyes for a long time, but he wasn't as fooled as she thinks he was. He's pretty smart. He has his own secrets, too. I haven't figured it all out yet, but I think it's pretty much the same as Mom's secret. I think the whole thing is hilarious. Here all these years they've been keeping these big secrets from each other and eventually they're going to find out it's essentially the same secret! Parents! What's wrong with just telling each other? And me! I'm going to find it out anyway — I always figure these things out myself. Did I tell you I'm a genius?
I've been worried about Daddy for a while. I don't think he's ever dealt with Cindi's death. Not that I'm doing so well, but at least I have had a good cry (several of them actually — poor Daddy). I think he's just transferred those feelings for Cindi to Katie. I knew that one of these ays this was all going to come around and bite him. I think it finally did Sunday.
I guess I should tell you something important about me. I hope Daddy doesn't mind me telling this, but I doubt he has in mind just anyone reading this. You see, Cindi and I, and now Katie, have always had this special thing. We could read emotions really well. I always knew how she was feeling, and she always knew how I was feeling. We could do it with our parents also. We can also tell where the other one is, no matter how far away.
The location thing works with Mom and Dad also, but not as well. We could just feel it in our minds. They think we could just do the emotion thing with them sometimes; we've never told them how well we could do it with them. We didn't want to freak them out. It gets somewhat interesting sometimes when they are ... um ... fooling around. Those emotions can be pretty overwhelming for a 13-year-old girl! Maybe one of these days I'll gross Daddy out by letting him know how ... excited ... Cindi and I would get sometimes! Giggle! Course, maybe it wouldn't gross him out. Maybe I won't think about that. I don't know how I'd feel about that (yes I do, I just don't want to think about it! Giggle!). Not that we knew what it all meant. We used to sneak over to the door of their bedroom and watch. Why not? If we're going to feel the emotions, we might as well watch! Dad caught Katie and me the other day, but he didn't tell Mom. He is so cool! What would really make them freak out is if they knew that I'm getting better at this. Sometimes I swear I can read their minds. I know what they are thinking before they say it. I try to control that. The way Daddy looks at Katie sometimes, I do not think I want to know what he is thinking! Giggle!
Anyway, where I was going with this is that Daddy has never dealt with Cindi's death. I can see the pain in his eyes sometimes, even often, and I can read in his emotions that he still hurts. I think that's what's going on now. His mind is so mixed up and confused, I can hardly make sense out of his emotions. I can feel tremendous guilt, and I know that somehow it seems to be connected with Cindi and me. I don't know why. Cindi's death was an accident. How could that be his fault? I don't know what he has to feel guilty about with me. Somehow, Mom is involved in his concerns too. That one has to do with fear. Is he afraid she's in danger? Surely, he can't be afraid she would leave him, no matter what the problem is. That would never happen. Even with my reading him, I have no answers.
Whatever happened to him started Saturday night when we were at my grandparent's house for the birthday celebrations. Up to that time, he was fine. I noticed all of a sudden that he was upset about something. I teased him about dropping his wineglass and asked him why he was upset. Boy, did he take my head off! He has never talked to me like that before. I would've been really mad and hurt if I hadn't been able to feel that he was really hurting.
The next day he was even worse. He yelled at me again, but I was determined not to let it get to me. Then he yelled at Katie! That really got Mom worried. Daddy would never be mean to Katie. We decided to give them our presents to try to cheer him up and then he had to take a phone call. He said it wasn't important, but he was lying. Then he just got really upset when I gave him Cindi's present. Maybe I shouldn't have done that, but I know she wanted him to have it. She spent a lot of time getting it just right. He went into the office, and that's when the emotions coming out of his mind got really scary. About then is when he collapsed. Mom and I got him to the bed. When he still hadn't responded by the next day, Mom got worried.
"Amy, I think we should call a doctor. I don't like this," she said. I didn't think it was a good idea to call just a regular doctor. I don't know what Dad's secret is, but if it's like Mom's, as I suspect, he would not want to see just a regular doctor.
"Mom, I'll take care of that. You stay here with him. I think he would want you to be close to him." That wasn't much of a risk; I knew she didn't want to leave him anyway. She and Katie could tend to him while I could figure something out. As I left the room, I picked up a fountain pen that was in his shirt. Nobody paid any attention to me.
I had noticed something odd about that pen. He had only been carrying it the last few weeks. Suddenly it appeared along with his favorite one, and it looked different. On a hunch, I picked it up, went into the other room, and started playing with it. It didn't take me long to figure out this was not just a fountain pen, it did some other things too. It seemed to be a cell phone of some kind.
I punched speed dial one and it vibrated in my hand. Ok, that was Daddy's number. I managed to get into an address book of some kind. The entries seemed to be coded, but it didn't take me long to find one that looked like my number. I set my cell phone on vibrate, and then hit that speed dial number. Yep, my phone went off. Ok. I could tell then that Dad was number one, Mom was number three, I was number four, and Katie was number five. So, who was number two? He started carrying this after Cindi died, so it couldn't be her. So, if Dad was number one, and he was out of commission, and I needed to get him a doctor, who else better to go to than whoever was number two? Did I tell you I was a genius? Giggle! Here goes nothing. I dialed number two. I hope I was doing the right thing. I heard the phone being answered.
"Yes?" a soft-spoken polite female voice answered.
"Please don't hang up. My name is Amy Phillips..."
"Please hold on," she interrupted. I heard a series of clicks, and then a male voice answered.
"This is Captain Jensen. How may I help you?"
"Please," I repeated, "don't hang up. I found this number and my Dad needs help." I was getting a little flustered now and didn't give them all the information I should have.
"How did you get this number, young lady?" he asked firmly.
"I found it listed in a fountain pen phone like thingy that my Dad had. He's unconscious and needs a doctor."
"How did you figure out how to use it, and why did you dial this number, young lady?" I wished he would quit calling me that!
"It was pretty easy to figure out, and I figured out all the other numbers, and since he was number one, I figured out I wanted to talk to the number two guy. That's you. And don't you dare call me young lady again! And how come you've never asked me who my Dad is?" I was beginning to wonder about this guy.
He chuckled softly. "You must be Amy. I don't have to ask who your Dad is. The fact that you dialed this number means it could only be one person. Patrick told me you were very smart. So far, you're doing fine. We have a problem, though. An authorization code is normally used. Since I have never talked to you before, I don't know your voice. I'm not sure if you are who you really say you are."
"Fine. If you insist on going by the book, the authorization code is Alpha Tango seven three four six X-ray. I believe you now would repeat that back to me. However, let's cut the crap and I'll tell you that your authorization code is Delta four seven three Charley. Can we get on with the business of getting help for my Dad now?"
There was a long silence.
"How do you know those codes, young ... er, Amy?" He sounded surprised.
"I don't know. I've never heard them before. I just knew them now. I guess they're right, huh?" I felt a little sorry for him. He didn't know how to deal with a smart-ass 13-year-old genius. I wondered if it would make him feel better that I don't know how to deal with me most of the time either!
"Are you at home right now? Maybe I should speak to Victoria." He still was not comfortable dealing with a teenager. I felt a little better that he knew Mom's name.
"I wouldn't suggest that. Mom doesn't know anything about this part of Dad's life. I don't think Dad wants her too, either. She probably won't believe you."
"And what do you know about 'this part of your Dad's life', Amy?" he asked.
"I know enough to figure out this isn't a normal pen. I know enough to figure out how to use it. I know enough to not call a regular doctor. I know enough to figure out you're the one to call and how to do it. I'm afraid you're stuck with the teenage smart-ass kid. Sorry."
For the first time, he laughed.
"You are amazing, Amy. No wonder your father is so proud of you. There will be a doctor there in 15 minutes. And Amy ... forget all about this number and conversation."
"Darn. I sure wish I could get this stupid number to work. All I get is a busy signal!" I giggled.
He laughed and hung up. I had done what I could. I hoped Captain Jensen was one of the good guys. Now it was time to go back and see if I could help Daddy.
Victoria:
My name is Victoria Phillips. Patrick Phillips is my husband of 15 years. Like Amy, I haven't read what Patrick has written. Amy and I have also agreed not to read what each one of us has written. At least, that is the plan. I wouldn't put it past Amy to sneak in and read what I wrote later. She is trustworthy, just too curious for her own good sometimes. So, Amy, if you're reading this, I love you honey, and you're a brat!
I was glad that Amy offered to help by calling a doctor. I really didn't want to leave my husband's side. Patrick and I have known each other for 17 years, and except for one brief weekend shortly after we met, I have never been with anyone else. We knew almost immediately that we were meant to be together. The brief weekend consisted of my last fling with my old boyfriend and Patrick's roommate, while Samantha, Robert's girlfriend, was seducing Patrick. Robert and I wanted one last time together, for old times sake, and I knew Patrick had always been madly in love with Samantha. I wanted him to have one time with her before we became exclusive. Both Samantha and Robert were all for the idea. Poor Patrick — everyone knew about this but him. He didn't find out the truth until later when he confessed his guilt to me.
Patrick is everything to me. He's my husband, but even after 15 years, he's still my lover. He's my soul mate. I can't imagine life without him, or with another. Both of us still get breathless when the other walks in the room. That was how I knew something was wrong Saturday night. It is the first time in my memory that he was not ready and willing to make love to me, to drive me crazy.
He is also my rock. I don't know how I would've survived when Cindi died without him there to help me through it. It was almost unbearable the first time I went through it alone; I wouldn't have been able to go through it with Cindi without his strength. In some ways, I think Amy and I did him a huge disservice by relying on him so much during that time. He spent so much time helping us that he never had a chance to grieve himself; he was too busy being strong for us.After his collapse, Amy told me she knew something was wrong Saturday night. Something happened that night at my parents' house that began this whole process of out-of-control grieving. Katie did not notice, as she was having some problems of her own. I haven't even tried to deal with that yet; she is reluctant to talk about it, partially because she is afraid after her Daddy yelled at her, but mostly because she says Daddy comes first. Thank you, Katie.
As I said, Patrick is my rock. He is such a calming influence on me. It is so comforting, with the hectic job I have, to come home to the world's biggest yuppie. He works in a hospital, so calm, collected, with such a structured life, nothing ever exciting. He was in some branch of law enforcement before we met. Somehow, I just can't see him in a job even that exciting. I'm not demeaning him. He's the world's sweetest person and deserves calmness and stability. It's for that reason that I feel so sorry for him with what he's going through now. He's always there for us and now we seem to be able to do nothing for him when he needs us.
I've always tried to keep secret from Patrick what I really do. Somehow, the time has just never seemed right to tell him that his loving wife is actually a "consultant" on semi-permanent loan to an anti-terrorist division of the government, that is so secret it doesn't even have a name, from a branch of the intelligence community that is so secret it doesn't even have a name.
Sometimes I don't have a name either, or at least not the one he knows me by. "Consultant" is a fancy term for the one that handles all dangerous situations and people that there isn't a strong legal case to prosecute, but can't wait to build such a case. Usually it is as exciting as computer troubleshooting, which I really do, but sometimes it gets really interesting. Occasionally, dangerous. Not that I could tell him that anyway. I'm only writing this now because sometimes I just have to let go and talk about it to someone. Writing it out is safer than telling someone. This way I get it out of my system. I'll go back and erase this later. I have detected some suspicion on his part that he realizes I am not just the computer geek I pretend to be. I hope he doesn't think I am hiding my life from him because I'm a prostitute or something like that. It would be easy to come to that conclusion, as many times as I have had to lie to him. That is what hurts the most, not being able to be honest and tell the love of my life the truth.
Even if I could tell him what I do, the next obvious question would be why. As much as I love Patrick, I'm not sure I could or would want to answer that question. The memories of what shaped me to this way of life in my early teens are still too painful to even think about.
I was a very wild young girl from about 10 to 16 years old. My parents think I lived in foster homes during that time. Sure, if foster homes are defined as the streets. Those years defined what I am today, why I do what I do. It only takes once watching a very special young girl ... well; I swore that I would do everything in my power to try to keep my babies from ever being hurt again. I failed with Cindi, and I will live with that scar for the rest of my life. I'm the one that should feel guilty, not him. That's one of the things Amy is able to feel in his troubled emotions right now; guilt, somehow connected with Cindi and Amy, and fear connected with me.
Amy, honey, if you are reading this, please don't read beyond this point. This is stuff you really do not need to know about, sweetie. Trust Mommy on this.
Two things saved my life. The first was a very kind, gentle middle-aged man who showed me what love was all about. No, he didn't molest me. I seduced him when I was 13. He resisted for a long time, but once I discovered that a man brought to a certain point while he is asleep is helpless to resist when he wakes up, he never stood a chance. I gave him desperately needed love, and he taught me how to love. I hated him for a brief time when I found out he was dying, but then we gave each other the best six months of either of our lives. Until I met Patrick, that is.
I know Patrick is confused and does not understand when I let him continue, even encouraged him, with Cindi and encouraged him to help Katie, but I understand completely how healing an older man's touch, especially one like my Patrick, can help a troubled young girl. I fully expect he will also be Amy's first some day, probably soon. Those two are way too close and love each other way too much for her to want anyone else. I can't think of anyone better to teach her what love is and, just as important, how to make love and be loved. The only question is which one of them will make the first move. She may be 30 before it happens! They both seem to walk on eggs around each other on this subject. It's fun to watch; they're both so sweet!
The other thing that saved me was my wonderful adopted parents. Any time I refer to my parents, I am referring to them.
Amy is back with the doctor. I'll write more in this later if I have a chance. At least until I decide to erase it all. I'm not sure I want even Patrick to read this stuff.
Amy:
The doctor arrived right on time. He was an older gentleman and seemed to know my Dad, and his history, very well. After checking him out, he ran some kind of portable scanning device over his head. I have never seen one of those on TV. He compared it to some scan tracings he brought with him. Previous brain scans? Daddy, what do you do for a living, really? Later, he sat down with Mom and me to talk to us about Dad. He wouldn't let Katie sit in because she is not listed officially as a member of the family. Wow! Was she mad! I have never seen Katie that mad before. Remind me never to get her mad at me!
The doctor said that as far as he could tell, Dad had suffered multiple emotional, traumatic events very close together and he had just emotionally shut down. He would probably stay that way until his brain sorted them out and figured out how to deal with them. That is what scares me. His brain is so messed up right now, emotionally, that I wasn't sure how that was going to happen. He didn't seem to be working on it right now. I tried to act cool about what he said, to keep from scaring Mom, but I'm not a good actor and Mom is pretty smart. I'm so glad Katie was not in there. Now we have to calm down and then figure out something to tell her. Right. Like she hasn't already read our emotions. I think I'm learning what Daddy has known for a little while now — trying to lie to someone who reads your emotions is pretty useless. Rats! It's not much fun being on the receiving end of problems with this reading stuff!
I asked Mom to go talk to Katie. I told her Katie would be able to read my face too well. I just wanted her out of the room. I decided to try something I swore I would never do; try to read my Daddy's mind without him being able to tell I was doing it. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was there, but if I could help him, I would take his pain. I will write more later.
Vicky
- 25.05.2021
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