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Saving The Little Girl Next DoorChapter 12 free porn video
It's Friday now. Erika will be tortured on Sunday. Waiting for that day was like watching a dagger move slowly towards my heart.
My bottom is still bright pink from all the spanking I received yesterday. I wasn't going to tell my mom, my dad, or even my brother what happened. It was far too embarrassing.
Noticing that I wasn't spending much time with Sherwin anymore, Dad went shopping and got me a Venus Fly Trap. He could have got me another brother or sister from an orphanage, but instead he decided to give me a plant! But the Venus Fly Trap wasn't like most plants. When an insect flies into its jaws, the plant quickly closed its mouth and eats the insect. Because it moved a lot more than most other plants, the Venus Fly Trap seemed more alive. Many children keep dolls or teddy bears because they liked to pretend it's alive. But with the Venus Fly Trap, you don't have to pretend because you know it actually is alive.
I didn't spend the whole day in my room (not that there's anything wrong with that). Today after school some friends asked me to hang out with them at the mall. Eager to mitigate my anxiety, I accepted the invitation. Hanging out with these friends was not as good as I thought it would be. These friends were all people who knew each other from primary school, and since I didn't go to the same primary school as they did, I felt like an outsider. Couple that with the fact that I'm quite shy and you've got quite a disaster. Thankfully these new friends were nice enough to tolerate my anti-social behaviour. They tried to lighten me up and get me to laugh and joke around more, and I tried so hard to fit in and be happy. But happiness is not something I could fake, especially with the knowledge that Erika was going to be tortured soon. I wanted to act happy in front of my new school friends. But I couldn't. I guess I'm just too honest. Whenever I looked at a group of people laughing and having a good time, I start to wonder whether there's something wrong with me. Strangely, the people who tell me to lighten up and be positive are often the people who tell me to be myself. What if I'm just sad by nature? By acting happy and positive I'm not really being myself. I guess "be positive" and "be yourself" are just lines people memorize. Often when a friend gives advice, he or she just regurgitates lines from Oprah or Dr Phil. People just say things. They don't usually think about what they say.
I'm sick of going to the mall. Whenever my friends ring me, they bring me to the mall. Whenever my mom and dad are home they bring me to the mall. I prefer to stay home and watch a movie, but Mom and Dad tell me that I shouldn't stay indoors for too long because then I'd miss out on the "real world." Walking in a mall is like walking in a virtual reality machine. All your surroundings are manipulated to entice you into buying things. How can the mall be any more real than your living room?
My brother went to the doctor today early before school. The doctor told Sherwin that he had athlete's foot, a fungal disease. Since my brother's been playing with blisters between his toes, the fungi spread from his feet to his hands, and days later the fungus appeared on his butt (I wonder how it spread there). I kept thinking: if the fungus appears on his butt, it's not really "athlete's foot" but "athlete's butt."
I must admit I don't have too many friends at school. But I don't really care. A lot of kids at school nowadays treat friendship like money--whoever has most wins. Rich people show off their money with nice cars and big houses. Popular kids show off their friends by hanging around in large groups and talking non-stop about all the wonderful things they did over the weekend.
At lunchtime today I sat alone in the library reading Harry Potter. A group of boys entered and walked over to me. Sherwin was one of those boys. Of course, when they realized I was reading Harry Potter, they laughed at me. One of them even pushed me, trying to make me lose my temper. He succeeded. I pushed him back. He grabbed my book and threw it against the wall. I felt so angry I swear I could have shot him if I had a gun. My brother Sherwin looked at me with pity. When they left, one of the boys told me to get a life. When my anger subsided, I sat back down again and thought about what he said. Get a life. What did it mean? Was there some universally correct pathway that everyone must take if they are to live life correctly? When people tell you to get a life, they're telling you to live a way they think is correct. Fact is there is no correct way to live life. Each person chooses his own path.
After the lunchtime fight in the library, I went back to my locker, read my timetable, and took out textbooks for a double period of science. Our science teacher was one of those enthusiastic teachers who has to always try to make everything fun and interesting. In the end, however, the activities just turn out to be so childish that nobody takes them seriously.
Sherwin and I were paired together for a competition in which we had to construct a bridge from nothing but pink drinking straws and Cellotape. We could only use a limited amount of straws and Cellotape. The group whose bridge could hold the greatest weight would win the competition and receive 500 dollars. Sherwin wanted this money so badly he spent ages designing a perfect plan for a bridge based on the engineering he had taught himself over the holidays.
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