tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59121099576628394552024-03-21T06:45:30.424-07:00The Compound"Love wrapped in destruction"LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-84426757787299645102015-05-18T07:00:00.000-07:002015-05-23T12:29:32.525-07:00Liebster Award<b>I'm proud to say that The Compound has been nominated by <span style="color: #93c47d;">MrsOogieBoogie, author of <a href="https://theduboislegacy.wordpress.com/2015/05/17/liebster-award" target="_blank">The Insane Dubois Legacy</a>,</span> and <span style="color: #93c47d;">lovesstorms, author of</span> <a href="https://lovesstorms.wordpress.com/2015/05/22/the-liebster-award">Lovesstorms' Stories</a>, for the Liebster Award. This is my tenth nomination, and the second one for The Compound. My first was Jinx, who nominated my Wordpress blog, where I keep a compilation of links to my actual stories. Second was MrsOogieBoogie, who nominated The Compound, my completed story about a cult. Third was MsMidnightBlonde, who nominated Blink of an Eye, my apocalyptic story. Fourth was Stormy, who nominated Echoes of Eternity, my legacy. Fifth was Daijah V, who nominated Painting the Townies Gorgeous, my challenge story. Sixth was from Julie, who also nominated Echoes of Eternity. Seventh was from hellohannah2, who nominated L'amour Vrai, my Disney story. Eighth was from AndanteZen, who nominated Echoes of Eternity. Ninth was from sandybeachgirl, who nominated Echoes of Eternity. Thank you all for thinking of me. <span style="color: #cc0000;">♥</span></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuFWDZ79vGPbMzDs91_ihvB1QmqSQWrXLhr6elLtyRlgvmC4bWc_P8YTjf3auaH50V0-XyTJXYjR6SsyfpqemK_p62rN52BHL8zMGfLVy7s-R0hRpNoSLvak2FDDFpvwiBLZlIuN3iKk/s1600/liebster-award-300-px.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuFWDZ79vGPbMzDs91_ihvB1QmqSQWrXLhr6elLtyRlgvmC4bWc_P8YTjf3auaH50V0-XyTJXYjR6SsyfpqemK_p62rN52BHL8zMGfLVy7s-R0hRpNoSLvak2FDDFpvwiBLZlIuN3iKk/s1600/liebster-award-300-px.png" /></a></div>
The Liebster Award is an award passed on to bloggers from other bloggers to show appreciation and recognition for their stories. There are some rules that come with accepting the award, which are as follows.<br />
<ol>
<li>Post the award on your blog.</li>
<li>Thank the blogger who presented the award and link back to their blog.</li>
<li>Nominate 5-11 bloggers whom you feel deserve this award and have fewer than or equal to 3,000 followers.</li>
<li>Answer 11 questions posted by the nominator, and ask your nominees 11 questions.</li>
</ol>
<div>
<hr color="teal" />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">My Nominees</span></h2>
<div>
<br /></div>
Since my first nomination was from Jinx, I have already nominated five bloggers for the award, so I won't be nominating them again, but these were the ones I picked, just for information's sake, and also if you are looking for something to read, these are five amazing stories worth checking out.</div>
<div>
<ol>
<li><a href="https://theduboislegacy.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">The Insane Dubois Legacy</a> by Simcomix aka MrsOogieBoogie</li>
<li><a href="https://grovebmtlchallenge.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Another Life to Live</a> by MsMidnightBlonde aka RaeNic</li>
<li><a href="https://differentwinters.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Different Winters</a> by LilyShadowWriter</li>
<li><a href="http://perfection-sims3.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Perfection</a> by littlesims2chick aka alexandrea</li>
<li><a href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Summerdream</a> by caterpillarsims</li>
</ol>
<div>
<hr color="teal" />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Questions from MrsOogieBoogie</span></b></h2>
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">1] In everyday life, how often do you find yourself thinking about your story or your characters (when you’re not working on it)?</span></b><br />
Quite often, actually. It's not constant, like all day, but I will usually think about my story or characters at least once every day, and what scenarios I want to put them in, or what things I might need to download, what sets I need to create, any additional Sims I need to make, basically things that will need to happen before I can post the next chapter. I will also think about the chapter itself and where I want to go with it and how it will tie into everything else, both having it make sense with the chapter before it, and the chapter that will be written. There are times during the day when I'm focused on doing something else that needs my full attention, when I will purposely not think about my story, but I'd say if I'm just doing something random that doesn't take much brain power, like cooking, Sims stuff will not be far from my mind.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>2] How did you come up with your idea to start your story/legacy? Was it something you wanted to do for a while, or did it just come to you out of the blue?</b></span><br />
The idea for The Compound came initially when I watched the television show, The Following, which is about a cult. It was chilling, and it resonated with me because I had been in a cult-like experience when I was in college. I had been wanting to try to write about my experience in a fictional atmosphere for some time, I had some Word drafts where I was trying out different styles of writing, but I wasn't entirely sure I was going to publish until I saw The Following. Cults are not exactly very popular, so I wasn't sure how many people would be interested. When I saw the show on tv, though, it made me think that 'hey there's someone else who wrote about a cult, and I find it incredibly interesting, so maybe I should just go for it,' and so I did. Thus, The Compound came to be.<br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">3] What’s your process in bringing in new characters? How do you choose their traits and their personality?</span></b><br />
I will bring in new characters usually when I feel like the story line I have written for the existing characters needs to be expanded upon. When I first started The Compound, the four main characters were established, and as I got into the meat of the story, I felt like two of the characters, Verona, and Absolon, needed more of their story told, so I introduced some new characters at that time, which were Verona's parents, and Absolon's parents. I choose their traits and personality from a back story that I give them in my head, based on the existing story line at the time. This way, everything flows together and the new characters make sense within the story, as if they were always supposed to be there.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">4] What’s your favorite view to write? First, Second, or Third person?</span></b><br />
My favorite view is First Person, hands down. I feel like I tend to be really passionate, and immerse myself in a character when I write them, so first person is the most effective view for that. If I need to show another character's perspective, I will just switch to first person for the other character, and then go just as passionate and immersive for the other character too. However, for The Compound, I wanted to try a different writing style, so I mixed First Person with Third Person, and threw in an interview as well. It sounds complicated when I describe it, even to me, but I had everything sectioned off in the story, and I've had readers tell me it's a very effective form of storytelling. Basically, two of the main characters were in the cult, and two were in the real world. When I talked about the cult, I used Third Person, and when I talked about the real world, I used First Person. I wanted the cult to seem robotic and a bit detached from reality, so I felt like Third Person would portray that the best. The interview style was because the story starts off with readers seeing that the two main characters who were in the cult are no longer in it. The story is a series of flashbacks, but I'll say nothing more, if you're curious go read it, and I'll be glad to answer any comments you have. LOL.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">5] What are your favorite worlds to play in?</span></b><br />
Ahh. Favorite worlds. I love Starlight Shores (Showtime EP), Sunlit Tides (EA Store), Roaring Heights (EA Store), and this isn't a world, but a venue from the EA Store, The Last Venue of Amore. I love Starlight because it reminds me of one of my favorite cities, Los Angeles. Roaring Heights reminds me of my hometown, Chicago, and the 1920s atmosphere makes me happy, plus it comes with an old 1920s/30s car which is just perfect. Sunlit Tides because I love beaches and oceans. Amore because it's absolutely breathtaking for just being a bunch of pixels, and also because I was overcome by romance when I was playing in it. I am not a very romantic person, so I often need to find inspiration when I need to write a romantic scene, and Amore does just that. LOL.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">6] What are your favorite types of stories to read? What interests you the most?</span></b><br />
I really like stories that are heavy on the plot lines, and realistic. it doesn't matter if it's a legacy, standalone story, or a Sims challenge, as long as there's a good plot line. I'm most interested in stories rated R, or ones even if they don't give an R rating, just if they're not afraid of delving into topics that aren't as "accepted" in society. I like those the most because I think it takes great courage to write about things like that, and I like the idea of fearless individuals who are willing to write what they want to write without fear of offending someone. I also really like when I can tell the author puts a lot of effort into their story and when I can see that they are very passionate about it. It's much easier for me to like something if I can feel that the author cares about their story a lot as well.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">7] Which character in your story can you say you relate to the most?</span></b><br />
As I am today, I would say probably Camo. He's feisty, and he asks questions, without just bending over and being gullible. I will say in general, however, the four main characters of The Compound were all representative of parts of my personality at certain stages during my time in the cult. There was a time when I was completely brainwashed, times when I was starting to question things, times when I was scared about being punished, yet still trying to question things, and times when I backtracked.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">8] What are the five traits that worst describe you?</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #93c47d;">Hot-Headed:</span></b> I have a short fuse for certain things, and I can get really worked up over stuff I feel strongly about, sometimes to the point that I scare people, LOL. Sometimes I can also be misunderstood as bitchy because of this trait.<br />
<b><span style="color: #93c47d;">Couch Potato:</span></b> Sometimes I have no motivation to do shit when I really, really should<br />
<b><span style="color: #93c47d;">Commitment Issues:</span></b> I am married now, but I was never one to daydream about it as a young girl, and I didn't really give a fuck if I ever got married, if it happened, it happened, if it didn't, whatever. Before I got married, my longest lasting relationship was two to four weeks. I just dumped people the second they pissed me off because I didn't need that shit in my life. LOL.<br />
<b><span style="color: #93c47d;">Absent-Minded:</span></b> I sometimes have the attention span of a fruit fly. LOL. I'll have something in mind I want to do, and then do it halfway, but then get distracted by something else and forget what the fuck I was doing in the first place. It can be something as big as forgetting that I was writing a forum post and then going to write my story, or something as little as looking at my wedding ring and seeing all the shinies in it. I always have too many tabs open in my browser, and often that is why I get distracted as well.<br />
<b><span style="color: #93c47d;">Heavy Sleeper:</span></b> I like this about myself, but I have heard from hubs that I can be extremely hard to wake up. Also once I'm physically up, I'm such a heavy sleeper that it can take like up to 3 hours for my brain to wake up, so if you have something important to tell me in the morning, I probably either won't remember it or comprehend it in the first place. It takes me a long time to understand things in the morning, LOL, with some effort I can, but it takes like ten times the effort in the morning for me than it does during the rest of the day or at night.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">9] If you could go back and change how you wrote your story, so that it would've gone in a completely different direction, would you? Why/Why not?</span></b><br />
Nope. I wouldn't change a thing writing wise about The Compound. Since it came from such a personal place in my heart, and from my life, I felt like when I wrote it, it was exactly what I wanted to say at the time. Also, writing The Compound was healing for me, as I wrote each chapter, I felt like I was releasing a little bit of my burdens from the damage the cult instilled in me, and I wouldn't change that for the world.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">10] Does your style of clothing ever some through in your characters? Or do you dress them how you think they themselves would dress?</span></b><br />
Yeah, definitely. I often don't dress my female Sims in things I wouldn't wear, unless I have a specific style for their character already in mind. I'm not a huge fan of the modesty thing where everything is covered up and shorts are the devil, so I'll often have my female Sims wearing mid-neckline shirts where a little cleavage is happening, but I won't make them go hooker unless they're a hooker in the story. LOL. For guys, it's the same thing, except for instead of dressing them how I would dress myself, I dress them in clothes I would find attractive on a male. For some characters, I will have a defined personality for them, where their clothing plays a part in their personality, and then yes, I will dress them how they think they should dress.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">11] What is something in game that your Sim does to others that you wish you could do in real life? No consequences or repercussions?</span></b><br />
Ooh, no consequences? Hmm in game, that's harder. I'm going to have to think about this. LOL. The thing I wanted to do, the Sims can't actually do in game, so maybe I'll have to think about this in a different direction. XD I find it funny when the Sims scare each other, but I already do that to my hubs in real life, so that doesn't count... hmm... pointing and laughing is fun too, but again, I do that to my hubs. I wish I could swim in real life, and I like how the Sims can just automatically swim when they get into water, and they didn't need to be taught. LOL. In actuality, I wanted to do some real evil stuff since there were no consequences, like off some people who really made my life hell for no damn reason other than they were assholes. XD<br />
<b>EDIT: OoooOoo! I would love to slap the shit out of someone on the street if I felt like they were being a giant asshole for no reason. LOL.</b></div>
</div>
<hr color="teal" />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Questions from lovesstorms</span></b></h2>
<b><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">1. When you write, do you choose the computer or paper/pen?</span></b><br />
I always use my computer. I write directly in my Blogger editor because it makes for easy editing, and organization. I don't have to worry about 'now where did I put that page for that chapter?' LOL, knowing me, and how much I leave shit everywhere in my house, no doubt I would lose pages from my drafts if I didn't have it all in my computer.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">2. Do you write your story ahead of time, then take photos (if you have any)? Or do you take photos, then write?</span></b><br />
Neither. LOL. What I do is open Blogger, and then open my game. I'll write a paragraph or two, and then go in game to get the pictures for those paragraphs. Then I hit the "Windows button" and go back to Blogger, write some more, and then get pictures. I'm way too scatterbrained to take pictures before hand because I would probably not even know what I got the pictures for anymore if I didn't work on it right away. I'm a very visual person, so if I just write and write with no pictures, it's easier for me to get distracted, or get stuck.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">3. What made you want to start writing? A book? Life? A person? Other?</span></b><br />
The Sims. I never wrote anything until I bought the Sims3 other than school reports, but I never wrote for fun. I feel like Sims really opened my creativity as far as writing goes. Honestly, I didn't even know I liked writing that much until I discovered Sims. LOL.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">4. What’s a country you’ve always wanted to visit?</span></b><br />
Oh man, this is hard, I want to visit a lot of places, but they're mostly in Europe, which is not a country. LOL. I like Italy, I want to see the Coliseum, France for the Eiffel Tower, England and Scotland for the castles, and Germany for the World War II stuff. I'm a huge history nerd, so seeing anything that's "old world" is fascinating to me.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">5. Outside of the Sims, what’s another favorite game you play?</span></b><br />
Tomb Raider. Sims is the only game I play on the computer. I play Tomb Raider on my PS2, and I love everything about it, the shooting things, jumping around, finding treasures, riding motorcycles, disarming traps, it's just really fun. XD<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">6. When you become disinterested in your story/characters, what do you do?</span></b><br />
I will change something in my story or characters to spice it up again. Usually if this situation happens, it means I need to start thinking in a different way for the story because what I am doing is clearly not working. LOL. Sometimes I'll question whether I need to add another character, which a lot of times really solves the problem because the new character adds a level to the story that makes it fresh, usually sparking that interest I was missing. Downloading CC helps too, it's probably not the best way to deal with it since I have too much CC as it is LOL, but it does make things more interesting. It's amazing what a new outfit, hairstyle, piece of decor, or car can do for my creativity. It's such a simple thing, but it is incredibly effective. Building a new lot or house helps too because it can give me ideas.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">7. When you write, do you prefer quiet or noise in the background?</span></b><br />
Noise, noise, noise always. Hahaha. I grew up in Chicago, and although this isn't true of everyone who grows up in cities, I myself can't stand the quiet. The television is usually the noise of choice when I'm writing. I usually watch shows on prime time, so like 7pm, but then I'll write during the commercials. Once the shows I'm interested in are over for the night, the tv still stays on for a few hours after that. I can't use music as my noise though, because I end up singing along to it, and then I can't type or think about the chapter properly. I usually end up typing the lyrics to the song, and then being like, what the fuck did I just type. LOL. It's only me and my hubs in the house, I have no kids, so as far as noise like that, like if my hubs is talking to me, sometimes I can't concentrate.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">8. If everyone stopped coming to your blog, would you continue to write and share?</span></b><br />
LOL. Yes. I'd definitely keep writing and publishing. I'm proud of what I write, and I always write for myself. Readers are a very welcome perk to my writing, but I don't write for my readers, so if they just disappeared one day, I'd miss interacting with them, but it wouldn't make me stop writing.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">9. Do you have a routine for reading other blogs, like reading until your caught up on one, then moving to the next one? Or do you enjoy reading little bits of many stories?</span></b><br />
It depends on the story, to be honest. The more I like the story, the more likely it is that I will read until I'm caught up. If I don't like the story as much, but it is still somewhat interesting to me, then I will read a few chapters, and then go on to a different story.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">10. Do you keep a notepad & pen/phone/tablet by your bed for those late night ideas? If so, do you actually get up and write them down?</span></b><br />
No I don't jot down ideas by my bed. Incidentally, I am usually up at the late night hours, since I'm one of those night owl Simmers who's still up at 2-3am, so I'm already at my computer typing them out. XD<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #f1c232;">11. When you write, do you just do a quick glance and post? Or do you take a day or two or more and proofread, move things around, delete, re-write, etc, etc?</span></b><br />
Oh, god no. LOL Quick glances for me are non-existent. A single chapter will take me at least three days to perfect and publish, depending how motivated I am. I always maintain that even though I am writing for fun, it doesn't mean I should half ass it and put no effort into it. Three days is the quickest I think I've ever completed a chapter, from initial writing to the final completion with pictures. The longest I've ever taken is a few months to perfect one chapter. I proofread as I go because I like to make sure things flow constantly, text, and picture wise. If I change a sentence or a paragraph, I'll proofread from the beginning. I'll only rewrite if I've had a draft in Blogger that I wrote a while ago, which I haven't looked at and sometimes forgot what I wrote. If I reread it and I decide I hate it, then it gets deleted. More often than not, I won't hate the entire draft, so I will write some new stuff, and then move some old stuff into the new stuff, if it fits. If it doesn't fit with the new stuff, then it gets deleted.<br />
<hr color="teal" />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">My Eleven Questions</span></h2>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
Since this is not my first nomination, and I didn't pick new nominees, I'm just going to list my questions here so others can see what I asked. There's no need to answer these again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
1. What got you interested in writing? Have you always been a natural writer, or did some life event spark you to start the hobby?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
2. How serious are you about writing? Do you want to be a world famous author someday, or do you just write Sims stories for fun?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
3. Is there a time of day that’s the best time for you to write?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
4. What do you do to get over writers block?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
5. What made you start playing Sims?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
6. Do you prefer creating and writing about male or female Sims? Why do you prefer the one you do?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
7. Other than Sims and writing, what are some of your other hobbies?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
8. What are your favorite and least favorite expansion or stuff packs?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
9. What is one of your greatest fears regarding your writing?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
10. If you could pick five personality traits for your Simself, what would they be? I know when I do it, there’s always more than five I want to use, but just think of the first five that come to mind.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
11. What is your favorite type of CC to download and why?</div>
</div>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-55113422422214160102013-12-02T17:17:00.000-08:002013-12-02T17:17:33.912-08:00Thank YouWell. The day is here. I have finished writing The Compound. I'd like to thank you all for reading. Yes you, my regular readers, my regular commenters, who I've loved socializing with through comments, as well as all the lurkers I've never socialized with in the comments. Thank you so much for showing support for this story and for all of your kind words throughout the span of this story. I have enjoyed the journey very much. This is most likely the last post I'll ever write on this blog, which saddens me. However, I am not going to stop writing, I still have my <a href="http://maximuszenteri.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">standard legacy story</a> I am writing, as well as my <a href="http://zenteri.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">100 baby challenge</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLuq6QT94kAJLdelcQepFNZBFUJ9D-n5TQoKuG98a80MIHIYE6jngBjguqiFw25N8pLDyN7BlnqPiAsWtnA_PgkqF9HjMmowq4oUMFNs-OHthya8YuUQ7pira3ALbmc1ulyNnYo0qQvI/s1600/Screenshot-1039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLuq6QT94kAJLdelcQepFNZBFUJ9D-n5TQoKuG98a80MIHIYE6jngBjguqiFw25N8pLDyN7BlnqPiAsWtnA_PgkqF9HjMmowq4oUMFNs-OHthya8YuUQ7pira3ALbmc1ulyNnYo0qQvI/s640/Screenshot-1039.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I am pleased to announce that at the same time I was writing the finale to The Compound, I have been hashing out ideas for a new story called Blink of an Eye. I wanted it to introduce it as soon as this one was over. The story changed multiple times over the course of when I first thought of it until now. As a result, I have about three chapters done. I'll publish one tonight, and the next two over the next few days. For now, the link below will take you to the story blog and give you some general information on how the story came to be.<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://apocarainbow.blogspot.com/p/welcome.html" target="_blank">Continue to Blink of an Eye!</a></h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-19289172291036537972013-12-02T13:17:00.000-08:002013-12-02T13:17:11.543-08:00Chapter 38: Finale<div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Music Track - Play it if you want to listen. </h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
~ Late Knight Simmer ~</h2>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
As the documentary came to a close, our very last interview segment was about how I felt when I heard that The Compound had been raided. It was five years ago, and I was sitting on the couch watching tv with Camo when the news interrupted our show.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5T9MNVMYtfCtXLILup-buP13cvBrxFUe0Ff5HU1p22NUF6BxCRC5QsSTNTdXrNdSg96bl5Ji6oFmuRH4jNSHgik-KRMvWFVH61Sp0hIy5niJMHpDoMsIsxD64Yui0QwFseNchT0MNSc/s1600/Screenshot-966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5T9MNVMYtfCtXLILup-buP13cvBrxFUe0Ff5HU1p22NUF6BxCRC5QsSTNTdXrNdSg96bl5Ji6oFmuRH4jNSHgik-KRMvWFVH61Sp0hIy5niJMHpDoMsIsxD64Yui0QwFseNchT0MNSc/s640/Screenshot-966.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Breaking news. This live from Chopper 48. The Compound, a local homeless shelter, has just been raided. The Leader, also known by his real name of Marshall Lexington, is being arrested for running a shelter containing illegal drugs. The undercover officer placed within The Compound a month ago has bruises on his face and body from beatings he endured while inside. He has been taken to the hospital and is expected to make a full recovery. The Compound is going to be shut down. Some residents are not taking this lightly, purposely attacking officers and firing at them, screaming that they would die for The Leader before they will go with The Strangers. Reports from the undercover officer revealed heavy conditioning and brainwashing that went on within The Compound. Officers are detaining residents and they will be placed in a psychiatric ward for deprogramming. Now back to your regularly scheduled program."<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOGngsCKHKYD9NVjon1spUrvX7h3dtDeTUYFOmD0i9iMv0rf7BDYFEqDh2QRgFCshNUaM_-9AaZps2l9ChB2UmQ40nMCbQgRLiC8ofDk77AjorzH8zGNs2Kgu0XqiU839fqmWoHKSFiC4/s1600/Screenshot-1034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOGngsCKHKYD9NVjon1spUrvX7h3dtDeTUYFOmD0i9iMv0rf7BDYFEqDh2QRgFCshNUaM_-9AaZps2l9ChB2UmQ40nMCbQgRLiC8ofDk77AjorzH8zGNs2Kgu0XqiU839fqmWoHKSFiC4/s640/Screenshot-1034.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Camo was excited when he saw the report, but I was scared because I thought for sure The Leader would manipulate the courts, be set free, and then come after Camo and I, killing us. Camo told me to have faith that we would be okay, and I wished I could share his courage. Time passed and no one came for us, so eventually I realized it was over, for good.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqvs7TfTDOOKuV1_AmTxmrCcYIk0c1Z1LeYz6Vb2j81oQb-9a6GYaDsNZgDroxNdxC8QZz39-Ib8UeUX8m71dmohNJTYv6-36VvD4iHP0finsheUwroerTjZNa1HTK7q1JRwulWy8W5Y/s1600/Screenshot-968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqvs7TfTDOOKuV1_AmTxmrCcYIk0c1Z1LeYz6Vb2j81oQb-9a6GYaDsNZgDroxNdxC8QZz39-Ib8UeUX8m71dmohNJTYv6-36VvD4iHP0finsheUwroerTjZNa1HTK7q1JRwulWy8W5Y/s640/Screenshot-968.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I had a good feeling when I finished the final interview segment of our documentary, which was named The Compound: Silicon Shores' Silent Danger. Verona and Charles set up a release party to announce that they were going to be advertising it to some television networks.I was standing with Camo at the snack table when Verona went up on stage and started singing Stronger, by Kelly Clarkson.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Xn676-fLq7I" width="560"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
You know the bed feels warmer<br />
Sleeping here alone<br />
You know I dream in colour<br />
And do the things I want<br />
<br />
You think you got the best of me<br />
Think you've had the last laugh<br />
Bet you think that everything good is gone<br />
Think you left me broken down<br />
Think that I'd come running back<br />
Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong<br />
<br />
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger<br />
Stand a little taller<br />
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone<br />
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter<br />
Footsteps even lighter<br />
Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gOfcsXHpK9v1PJfQwLbOf8L0IVCB6KqaaXRwRIj2kGBHk-FCeUFEABQXX-DjP58Dd4yv6QT-mBzMpJzpNPHzX0H8Zl7LiRoUFeqDI3HnWAwKxegS7N8aR2i048yLR7V79cKTd5ksH7U/s1600/Screenshot-1037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gOfcsXHpK9v1PJfQwLbOf8L0IVCB6KqaaXRwRIj2kGBHk-FCeUFEABQXX-DjP58Dd4yv6QT-mBzMpJzpNPHzX0H8Zl7LiRoUFeqDI3HnWAwKxegS7N8aR2i048yLR7V79cKTd5ksH7U/s640/Screenshot-1037.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger<br />
Just me, myself and I<br />
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger<br />
Stand a little taller<br />
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone<br />
<br />
You heard that I was starting over with someone new<br />
They told you I was moving on over you<br />
<br />
You didn't think that I'd come back<br />
I'd come back swinging<br />
You try to break me, but you see<br />
<br />
Thanks to you I got a new thing started<br />
Thanks to you I'm not the broken-hearted<br />
Thanks to you I'm finally thinking about me<br />
You know in the end the day you left was just my beginning<br />
In the end...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~ Stronger, by Kelly Clarkson ~</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
As she was singing, I observed Camo. He was immediately drawn in and I could see the love radiating from his eyes. Even after all the years they've been married, Camo is still as lovestruck as he was when he first saw Verona on the beach so long ago. If that isn't true love, I don't know what is. Absolon comes up behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and starts grinding on me, enjoying the beat from the song. I love him so much, and I wouldn't have gotten as far in my healing as I have if it weren't for him. He and Camo are the most important people in my life. Without them, I don't even want to think about where I would be right now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNEqPo_pTbtreKI5NZgpohEzEeBbGf7XeMz87_2DzwxZvwwLBn0Jq7SJVzmJ69C734EO-zR4zaq7nHSqv6orPrBTHWfulxYbLIIaWKlnG_pnS9eGMmbGnafTWQOi4R0VHbqT1ortZ4vHw/s1600/Screenshot-1038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNEqPo_pTbtreKI5NZgpohEzEeBbGf7XeMz87_2DzwxZvwwLBn0Jq7SJVzmJ69C734EO-zR4zaq7nHSqv6orPrBTHWfulxYbLIIaWKlnG_pnS9eGMmbGnafTWQOi4R0VHbqT1ortZ4vHw/s640/Screenshot-1038.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
The Leader sits in his jail cell, staring at the wall. He's been in prison for five years. He has some friends that he talks to regularly, but most of the inmates find him insufferable and creepy. With those friends, he's been successful at teaching them his ways, using redemption as a way to lure them into his way of thinking. He counts on the inmates' guilt as a way to control them. Sadly, jail has not changed The Leader at all, he is still the same manipulative person he always was.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJum9tQX0FzEAwJr6sXQODFZXBTuqOYlxLpeTB8A5MC7WoR6JxLN8cqzHXu92YIaw2XjtYaahiwncfD6_CM4aqcy7-EIHYjM37oYjmk6Pc5jYg6TUazSW_pnGNLuLO1-KgwMl00r3xzo/s1600/Screenshot-969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJum9tQX0FzEAwJr6sXQODFZXBTuqOYlxLpeTB8A5MC7WoR6JxLN8cqzHXu92YIaw2XjtYaahiwncfD6_CM4aqcy7-EIHYjM37oYjmk6Pc5jYg6TUazSW_pnGNLuLO1-KgwMl00r3xzo/s640/Screenshot-969.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Petunia and Abilene have been irreparably damaged by their time in The Compound. They are now both residents of the Silicon Shores Psychiatric Ward. It is often that they get in trouble for trying to preach to the other residents, although it's not easy to convince anyone of anything since technically they are all crazy people just spewing crazy talk. Abilene on many occasions has tried to avoid taking her medicine and has gotten shock therapy some days. Petunia and Abilene sit together by the piano in the commons area, as it is the only time they can socialize with each other since they were given separate rooms. Their deprogramming class has not gone well for the instructors since both Petunia and Abilene refuse to acknowledge that they have been brainwashed. It is not likely they will be leaving the psych ward at any point.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMdnshrJzaCqBBpPa6vTpsoUhZVFSwuPuyqmasI_Uh33mm9fUU4CxXyrxf8gM_sh9nnFpJGBm8Mde2TAvWPEL6S1HAfgo90cn9U_FIkym_YTUSHsUtB5mLVVJhl__hnqYE-1pEsVk9P8/s1600/Screenshot-1031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMdnshrJzaCqBBpPa6vTpsoUhZVFSwuPuyqmasI_Uh33mm9fUU4CxXyrxf8gM_sh9nnFpJGBm8Mde2TAvWPEL6S1HAfgo90cn9U_FIkym_YTUSHsUtB5mLVVJhl__hnqYE-1pEsVk9P8/s640/Screenshot-1031.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In a cabin in the woods, on the outskirts of town, Barry and Zinfandel reside together. Barry is trying to get The Leader's teachings out into the world again because he and Zinfandel strongly believe in what they were taught. On the day of the raid, Barry took Zinfandel into a secret room containing a tunnel that led to the outside, far away from the television cameras and the helicopter, which couldn't see through the thick trees. From there they found an abandoned cabin, which they quickly fixed up as their new community location. A few people have already joined, enjoying the company they can get when the wilderness gets a little lonely. Some campers have even sporadically attended the free food they give some days of the week.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvrQ00KngaGxvauS6ngP_ytDinRDZv0bFL7cm5_afDOSGWrqinjd7GRAzGZj5Aj76xm_OdbcvbTfKomTCR0ZNEyt5a7qPwVt6LLP6IYskhXmnSjmAB_yL3Ysm2qOmv1CBOZw4Fo4JLvCc/s1600/Screenshot-1032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvrQ00KngaGxvauS6ngP_ytDinRDZv0bFL7cm5_afDOSGWrqinjd7GRAzGZj5Aj76xm_OdbcvbTfKomTCR0ZNEyt5a7qPwVt6LLP6IYskhXmnSjmAB_yL3Ysm2qOmv1CBOZw4Fo4JLvCc/s640/Screenshot-1032.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Barry sits at a desk to compose a letter, while Zinfandel is reading a book.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<i>Dear Mr. Leader,</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>Greetings from Barry and Zinfandel. We were the only two who managed to escape the raid the day you were arrested. We have a cabin in the woods where we have started up your teachings again. Both of us still really believe in your goodness. I just wanted to write to you to let you know we are okay and that your mission is still going strong. In a few years if you are eligible for probation, we would love to have you come join us.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>Forever your faithful servants,</i><br />
<i>Barry and Zinfandel</i></div>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-35646972078862188872013-11-12T19:42:00.000-08:002013-11-12T19:42:34.146-08:00Chapter 37: ForeverThe sun is beautiful today, shining brightly in the sky above me. The water ripples and laps against the shore, glistening from the rays of sunshine hitting it. The palm trees tower above me, waving in the warm breeze that's blowing across my face. I hope Verona likes my tux. I feel nervous even though I am happy as well. Life has been so much better since I left The Compound. No one berates me for being me, and my self-esteem has improved drastically.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihWewBVfnpZ0fvF9fe65GT8ddj6PpeCXS7jN29l03N88poABd4VcyD45tYQ66KE7LHUEaPHzU4SxlqnYT5icAh20SXhLyZ8WFZmbEz9tdGpgnu3a4W4NZdEgd6u4EPSitr6R_1RqGR4ag/s1600/Screenshot-955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihWewBVfnpZ0fvF9fe65GT8ddj6PpeCXS7jN29l03N88poABd4VcyD45tYQ66KE7LHUEaPHzU4SxlqnYT5icAh20SXhLyZ8WFZmbEz9tdGpgnu3a4W4NZdEgd6u4EPSitr6R_1RqGR4ag/s640/Screenshot-955.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Verona and I decided to get married at the beach because it holds significance for both of us. It's where I first saw her, and it's where we both went to look for each other after we had a big fight. Music starts playing, and I know it's time to start. Titanium and Joliana are walking towards me, arm in arm. Charles started dating Joliana after divorcing Verona's mom, and she's been a great influence in my life as well. She makes a good stepmother figure for Verona too, very supportive and loving.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTfEo_YXBYXaVsfSuc0Wmva1XpysAJ9tZ1fCQh0ONxJFNOFGSDtPOLeaC5mC89ka17MJYcuXmjlGAMLapcEfmWr3QbYqq81Fo7BsqTdmp_pcD-G6ftzq6GOGYXQPh2YQPbbVvhMn7LiQ/s1600/Screenshot-956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTfEo_YXBYXaVsfSuc0Wmva1XpysAJ9tZ1fCQh0ONxJFNOFGSDtPOLeaC5mC89ka17MJYcuXmjlGAMLapcEfmWr3QbYqq81Fo7BsqTdmp_pcD-G6ftzq6GOGYXQPh2YQPbbVvhMn7LiQ/s640/Screenshot-956.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJ93gRVAYYLTKhoiuZFmGNJq3BW4gbhzbcwK0-7f_FrR_XV10uByNiIuNhecyn6x2IF2v886MYNuPBaGLQGeQ1bnNFn2U8qLKbSfiPaw-x2QQRP_eoIwbNZr2gbOujoAiSwbIG3tGEN0/s1600/Screenshot-957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJ93gRVAYYLTKhoiuZFmGNJq3BW4gbhzbcwK0-7f_FrR_XV10uByNiIuNhecyn6x2IF2v886MYNuPBaGLQGeQ1bnNFn2U8qLKbSfiPaw-x2QQRP_eoIwbNZr2gbOujoAiSwbIG3tGEN0/s640/Screenshot-957.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
WOW.<br />
<br />
I get tunnel vision when I see Verona and Charles walking down the aisle because Verona is so pretty in her dress. It's one of those old fashioned puffy dresses and she looks like a princess. I can't stop staring and I feel like my eyes are dry. <i>Shit, did I forget to blink?</i> Verona comes up to me, and Charles places her hand in mine.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxTpZDazvKFyT0hOW0ZHX20E8Dyj-pkjLj5Z60LLOKcC0YGVSgVnMf9cjfMPaHW-TMMb_T9hmXT9KdeDkkp2hE1aL8eGtx0TH-JZfymoHEw6EsbHmtpQNHnOBsWW2FrHpeWOxs1DTzaw/s1600/Screenshot-959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxTpZDazvKFyT0hOW0ZHX20E8Dyj-pkjLj5Z60LLOKcC0YGVSgVnMf9cjfMPaHW-TMMb_T9hmXT9KdeDkkp2hE1aL8eGtx0TH-JZfymoHEw6EsbHmtpQNHnOBsWW2FrHpeWOxs1DTzaw/s640/Screenshot-959.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I know you'll be happy together. I love you both."<br />
<br />
Charles takes a seat with Absolon and Victor, and the minister starts the wedding. I'm holding Verona's hand tightly and shaking a little bit. She squeezes my hand to reassure me and I calm down a little bit.<br />
<br />
"Now the couple would like to share with each other their handwritten vows."<br />
<br />
I take a piece of paper out of my tux pocket, unfold it, and try to read the words without crying.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yCrmaz6wGBch_1VEuMVVqiH7q83mNVJP6X3QLBe-hgbzGKAU20XvZNQS7ELYrIAgP9jT7AMU1AY22iq0R1X1_caODamcroWOBZwyp5m6AAEzP1_5_e2rIRmMookB1gWgH4WuJ73-t2A/s1600/Screenshot-960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yCrmaz6wGBch_1VEuMVVqiH7q83mNVJP6X3QLBe-hgbzGKAU20XvZNQS7ELYrIAgP9jT7AMU1AY22iq0R1X1_caODamcroWOBZwyp5m6AAEzP1_5_e2rIRmMookB1gWgH4WuJ73-t2A/s640/Screenshot-960.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona, from the moment you stepped into my life, you began changing it for the better. I was so naive and sheltered, but you taught me so much. You opened my eyes and made me realize the world for what it really is, instead of the cold, dark place I once thought it to be. Your smile warms my heart and now that I've found you, I can't imagine my life without you. I am ecstatic that on this very special day, I will become your husband."<br />
<br />
Verona's eyes fill to the brim with tears as she smiles at me. When she said we should write our own vows, I was pretty terrified at first, but as I sat down to write them, I found that the words came easy. I just wrote what I felt. Verona takes a minute to clear her throat and then she speaks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACIT0oPBv-1Pfih8khhRXAcG_jijsMUaaSWtJ9jAMh-HA2cbvEceYF7exJQtFPmXjq27zXkC_RNsChhvqxlqNk_R1cGMJJvJ9mifw3x6L_BNBXDgYimx0w4u23AIT_xiFWknRo_z7YjM/s1600/Screenshot-962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACIT0oPBv-1Pfih8khhRXAcG_jijsMUaaSWtJ9jAMh-HA2cbvEceYF7exJQtFPmXjq27zXkC_RNsChhvqxlqNk_R1cGMJJvJ9mifw3x6L_BNBXDgYimx0w4u23AIT_xiFWknRo_z7YjM/s640/Screenshot-962.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo, I have always been curious about you. You were so mysterious, but it wasn't because you were choosing to be. I found some of the things I learned about you to be strange, but I wanted to be the one to open your eyes to the wonderful life you could have. I knew I loved you when I felt like I was going to die from the thought of losing you. I'm so happy that you are choosing to share your life with me, and that I get to be your wife."<br />
<br />
I squeeze Verona's hand and the minister calls for the best man to give us the rings.<br />
<br />
"Camo, repeat after me. I, Camo, take you Verona, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day on, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, in sickness and health, till death do us part."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzNOlo7vz26d7mI9FwVhrElfPUfx5CzzAui6xT24bcGZfRtztI8Ay02y_961WKQGNQUORO3BQmCZCsW9YXXdMYzRymjSrPZUUyyeV2GlRqL1XlW0MutrVILN-5A0tZW_PUPSJNcOvC-s/s1600/Screenshot-963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzNOlo7vz26d7mI9FwVhrElfPUfx5CzzAui6xT24bcGZfRtztI8Ay02y_961WKQGNQUORO3BQmCZCsW9YXXdMYzRymjSrPZUUyyeV2GlRqL1XlW0MutrVILN-5A0tZW_PUPSJNcOvC-s/s640/Screenshot-963.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
After I finish repeating the words all the way up until 'death do us part,' I put the diamond studded ring on Verona's finger, just above her engagement ring. I didn't get her the traditional gold band because I felt she deserved something more special than the standard.<br />
<br />
"Verona, repeat after me. I, Verona, take you Camo, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day on, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, in sickness and health, till death do us part."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcdXDUH6jLQBgSqmCfqoZJfWyTBcBeyPXUaR2UcMLQ6Dm5LJdk4DvDn0C5RgHruL9URaAs7IK0TqcdTa82gVqX_MhTTUUe_j0x7FrRb21UGIKjvMXzxcgf4ooB4pxccxiO1r04DlN02pM/s1600/Screenshot-961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcdXDUH6jLQBgSqmCfqoZJfWyTBcBeyPXUaR2UcMLQ6Dm5LJdk4DvDn0C5RgHruL9URaAs7IK0TqcdTa82gVqX_MhTTUUe_j0x7FrRb21UGIKjvMXzxcgf4ooB4pxccxiO1r04DlN02pM/s640/Screenshot-961.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZ2Q37Se1N5x0R4EnhY_lybvJRserT9RaKtW2AZlFfW3FlNJ1DwC89kNlsU0usc7CXeOYxB-VjkYVmOLsOUEnLJmvQRSBSbLHw9ILUF95kz_KBNdzle68zGfLpP2KrGGm7dN40bPUn6o/s1600/Screenshot-964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZ2Q37Se1N5x0R4EnhY_lybvJRserT9RaKtW2AZlFfW3FlNJ1DwC89kNlsU0usc7CXeOYxB-VjkYVmOLsOUEnLJmvQRSBSbLHw9ILUF95kz_KBNdzle68zGfLpP2KrGGm7dN40bPUn6o/s640/Screenshot-964.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Verona puts the silver ring on my finger, and I look into her beautiful aqua blue eyes. Then the minister says the words I've been waiting for all day.<br />
<br />
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."<br />
<br />
Cheers erupt from the audience as I kiss Verona deeply and passionately, taking her by a bit of a surprise. She recovers quickly however, and kisses me back with just as much force.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwoTGJcS-0OKo_VpLIAQ5lYk9t-NoDTHndrHjEzCF1dZR1FetymvKpk6Mg1zRezNulXUeiKYrHK87EiNtjy033xgyctmJ7LsgLexsj6AabL7PO3akuTshfsnTVLPhJyjytACkONYrBNPc/s1600/Screenshot-965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwoTGJcS-0OKo_VpLIAQ5lYk9t-NoDTHndrHjEzCF1dZR1FetymvKpk6Mg1zRezNulXUeiKYrHK87EiNtjy033xgyctmJ7LsgLexsj6AabL7PO3akuTshfsnTVLPhJyjytACkONYrBNPc/s640/Screenshot-965.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Camo and Verona Balestrom."<br />
<br />
I have a last name now. It may seem like something that's so simple and normal to most, but because I was known only by a number until I was sixteen, it means something significant to me. Being able to share a last name with Verona is the icing on the cake, and I feel a deeper connection to her because of it. She means the world to me. Some guys would think it less masculine to take their wife's last name, but I wouldn't have it any other way.LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-51017872281595979632013-09-01T12:45:00.000-07:002013-09-01T12:45:47.776-07:00Chapter 36: Recovery<h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Music Track - Play if you want to listen. Also, mild nudity.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Late Knight Simmer</div>
</h2>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IyVFE7qvXz03psN_yG9KNVdHsoA9WJZYS1o3ftPmzRPSpbjuZc_6dP12q_ZVE2lPcA9bk1VFY1Q9TUxBImfEywS6iAsQ6EiiWMfFkoFlPjETHol_53Ca_wlPti9Lqh-f3lwP10kY4uU/s1600/Screenshot-495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IyVFE7qvXz03psN_yG9KNVdHsoA9WJZYS1o3ftPmzRPSpbjuZc_6dP12q_ZVE2lPcA9bk1VFY1Q9TUxBImfEywS6iAsQ6EiiWMfFkoFlPjETHol_53Ca_wlPti9Lqh-f3lwP10kY4uU/s640/Screenshot-495.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>How was life after you left The Compound?</b><br />
<br />
<div>
It was different. I had to get used to the idea that when someone wanted to talk to me, it wasn't because I was in trouble or because they wanted something from me. It was a little boring at first because without my scheduled class times, I didn't have anything to do. I had never really picked up any hobbies, and I didn't really know what it was that I liked. I didn't know who I was because the entire time I had lived there, I had never tried to find myself. I was a blank slate. Camo adjusted a lot easier because he knew what he wanted, and that was to be in a place where he felt appreciated and free to be himself.<br />
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTyzVNyo2Adnc13Vh9M-DBP9noAGGOnQCVjyIrOsEbAsQKZvNnt4qSd_cmhQvOjwiKxCjpVlbkmQAepHvSAzjtwanMLtOB6AGYNAsy_bNX4cTtrQnn_iJkN6LVng2Xza2WMkUoDZteKE/s1600/Screenshot-453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTyzVNyo2Adnc13Vh9M-DBP9noAGGOnQCVjyIrOsEbAsQKZvNnt4qSd_cmhQvOjwiKxCjpVlbkmQAepHvSAzjtwanMLtOB6AGYNAsy_bNX4cTtrQnn_iJkN6LVng2Xza2WMkUoDZteKE/s640/Screenshot-453.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZTpla-DavN86xRYz3tDLV3DYUuNtJlVvnf2hUwjzuldpRF3-q1zMdqsquVuWtv4njahODP5VHuepQExfiH2f9HeH6gPXbwF5pliay_RUpSscfphuglKZzrc6csLmQfgX2hoAITl6u5s/s1600/Screenshot-454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZTpla-DavN86xRYz3tDLV3DYUuNtJlVvnf2hUwjzuldpRF3-q1zMdqsquVuWtv4njahODP5VHuepQExfiH2f9HeH6gPXbwF5pliay_RUpSscfphuglKZzrc6csLmQfgX2hoAITl6u5s/s640/Screenshot-454.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My face had healed from the beating I'd endured, but my mind still had a long way to go before it recovered. Even after spending about a month with Absolon in Verona's house, I was still unable to sleep because I had nightmares that I'd be taken back to The Compound and beaten again. I felt like I was living a dream and that I'd wake up to the alarm signaling that it was class time. I constantly felt like I didn't deserve to be free. I didn't know where that thought came from, especially since I had been taught that I was better than everyone else, but I was suffering from a sense of worthlessness. This particular morning I had put on one of Absolon's shirts because it comforted me. I had felt like I was a bother to him most days so I didn't actively try to ask him to hang out with me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0Gj4q9bEfZQTrsUOP6aqfpz3qJqITPcgB8lbfNbGw3EUPYDsePZW4VPqq3yY1RplSjTKBEw-Do8AmT4yCKH1IjjP7yAB5wdu1q3OF5LOTkZvZwf-qXneYZlIEoFnqTaJ8Mf1iUTpSvU/s1600/Screenshot-455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0Gj4q9bEfZQTrsUOP6aqfpz3qJqITPcgB8lbfNbGw3EUPYDsePZW4VPqq3yY1RplSjTKBEw-Do8AmT4yCKH1IjjP7yAB5wdu1q3OF5LOTkZvZwf-qXneYZlIEoFnqTaJ8Mf1iUTpSvU/s640/Screenshot-455.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Absolon came over and sat with me on the couch, putting his arm around me. I loved seeing the concern in his gorgeous eyes, and the way he held me was always so gentle. I felt safe with him, and that was the pure truth. He was so patient with me, all the time, even when I had nightmares, or acted irrationally. Absolon would often suggest things for me to try, which I appreciated, but that feeling that I was a bother to him took a really long time to go away.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6829_tB8sro6_orrqb4inQxzlkKUorSWpGl_RVnb5PCG2UxlMpvD-c5fV7yWmKPTRAQOLp0ELkTwGDUwehiT-_ZyeJp7HwHlXqqFjrr_f0g7UTl_-TmcYKLDt0X46YNqxfefmJ64_SsA/s1600/Screenshot-456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6829_tB8sro6_orrqb4inQxzlkKUorSWpGl_RVnb5PCG2UxlMpvD-c5fV7yWmKPTRAQOLp0ELkTwGDUwehiT-_ZyeJp7HwHlXqqFjrr_f0g7UTl_-TmcYKLDt0X46YNqxfefmJ64_SsA/s640/Screenshot-456.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"What do you want to do today? Do you want to learn how to play my guitar?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Oh, I don't know. I don't want to break it."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"You won't. Not unless you plan on slamming it into the ground with all your strength. Don't worry. If you don't like it, that's okay, I just thought maybe we could try to get you a hobby or something."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I nod at Absolon and he pulls out a guitar and hands it to me, looking into my eyes as he does it. He wraps my left hand around the neck of the guitar and places my right hand on the strings. I love his touch, it's always so gentle and his hands are so warm.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRodkoze1VQAaHw36w5KvlZ_R95v2G06oSSCQixpnhL9K5rqeuuCocwjJEZlmqV6jrBTVUBEssI6NinESQC5z3ZZi3I41uW3M1CxLT8pZ69aQS3i3hMqoR4CIOa4AdHviBKvIyj03-xw/s1600/Screenshot-459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRodkoze1VQAaHw36w5KvlZ_R95v2G06oSSCQixpnhL9K5rqeuuCocwjJEZlmqV6jrBTVUBEssI6NinESQC5z3ZZi3I41uW3M1CxLT8pZ69aQS3i3hMqoR4CIOa4AdHviBKvIyj03-xw/s640/Screenshot-459.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcWZRen1HEcO3z3pJ-f1aWxNpCMDornqo3x3uV-GtWOQ6K3vG6s2oDjVoEhgrC2TyrY3AN0JqLd3Jt2QdKPSQ4D8F-f7yazgK_ihBqph6nm2_COnW7mLpwnQBOtL6q_pMirb30zvDfsp8/s1600/Screenshot-457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcWZRen1HEcO3z3pJ-f1aWxNpCMDornqo3x3uV-GtWOQ6K3vG6s2oDjVoEhgrC2TyrY3AN0JqLd3Jt2QdKPSQ4D8F-f7yazgK_ihBqph6nm2_COnW7mLpwnQBOtL6q_pMirb30zvDfsp8/s640/Screenshot-457.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXiz5XV2FbdtgrJrgDJ4gPd6XgEm4Zm_jPho4udVSMMWrNa540OQ1cE-ufLBfwEsR3tPodfTBqjuBH9Rc0OarT24piVSZDzhu8YEc5Vt1Hw8NUw77KjkoxthZwBT66jCXGd55pO0lNyU8/s1600/Screenshot-458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXiz5XV2FbdtgrJrgDJ4gPd6XgEm4Zm_jPho4udVSMMWrNa540OQ1cE-ufLBfwEsR3tPodfTBqjuBH9Rc0OarT24piVSZDzhu8YEc5Vt1Hw8NUw77KjkoxthZwBT66jCXGd55pO0lNyU8/s640/Screenshot-458.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Now, just strum a little bit. You don't have to worry about it sounding like a song, just get the feel of the strings on your fingers."</div>
<div>
<br />
Even as I start strumming, Absolon keeps his finger on my hand, as if he doesn't want to let it go.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
"The strings are really hard. Do you hurt yourself when you're playing for a long time?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Not really. I have a guitar pick for the strumming and I do get some callouses on my fingers, but it's not terrible or anything I can't stand. Now, with your left hand, press down on this string, and keep strumming, like this."<br />
<br />
Absolon goes behind me and puts his hand around mine, while his other hand goes around my waist. I'm starting to feel like this morning is getting better than it had been.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YrtUaxlbUaiUv2MzCp1zT_HUgY96TbX1IXO9u0RRTsmFAQcEyZRmqyAyoFAQ1oCJrGdUqVgUFqQRxeu8eefsxqSszyHTZrSmQFzjJ2RkH6xyFu892T855e778USPFaGqM6lslns1WyQ/s1600/Screenshot-460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YrtUaxlbUaiUv2MzCp1zT_HUgY96TbX1IXO9u0RRTsmFAQcEyZRmqyAyoFAQ1oCJrGdUqVgUFqQRxeu8eefsxqSszyHTZrSmQFzjJ2RkH6xyFu892T855e778USPFaGqM6lslns1WyQ/s640/Screenshot-460.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Do you want me to play something? You can sit with me."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, sure."<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/8UVNT4wvIGY" width="560"></iframe></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>Now and then I think of when we were together</i><br />
<i>Like when you said you felt so happy you could die</i><br />
<i>Told myself that you were right for me</i><br />
<i>But felt so lonely in your company</i><br />
<i>But that was love and it's still an ache I still remember</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness</i><br />
<i>Like resignation to the end, always the end</i><br />
<i>So when we found that we could not make sense</i><br />
<i>Well you said that we would still be friends</i><br />
<i>But I'll admit that I was glad it was over</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgd32zDCKNgHCjXaEEdkMxTwiEm98OzZ1kn9kzqEWKSHhadY7EV-nOdfhkYbPvMEuD4hGcHcdnMOwfGMlWQk8nzJqEb1YCx9qmDpyPGL-NicL2VXd3M42s98apL8tLLxE15AXpAHdzGH4/s1600/Screenshot-463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgd32zDCKNgHCjXaEEdkMxTwiEm98OzZ1kn9kzqEWKSHhadY7EV-nOdfhkYbPvMEuD4hGcHcdnMOwfGMlWQk8nzJqEb1YCx9qmDpyPGL-NicL2VXd3M42s98apL8tLLxE15AXpAHdzGH4/s640/Screenshot-463.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>But you didn't have to cut me off</i><br />
<i>Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing</i><br />
<i>And I don't even need your love</i><br />
<i>But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough</i><br />
<i>No you didn't have to stoop so low</i><br />
<i>Have your friends collect your records and then change your number</i><br />
<i>I guess that I don't need that though</i><br />
<i>Now you're just somebody that I used to know</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over</i><br />
<i>But had me believing it was something that I'd done</i><br />
<i>But I don't wanna live that way</i><br />
<i>Reading into every word you say</i><br />
<i>You said that you could let it go</i><br />
<i>And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know</i>
<br />
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Somebody That I Used to Know - by Gotye</b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I couldn't believe how much my life changed over the next couple of months. I was living with people who actually cared about me and wanted to see me happy rather than control my every move. It was relieving not to worry about whether I was going to be tattled on, and even more exciting that I didn't have to walk on eggshells all the time. Eventually, the guilt that I had done something wrong by running away from The Compound wore off and I was able to see that I had made the best decision of my life. Pretty soon, I put The Compound behind me and they just became people that I used to know, except for Barry.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbWVB6q-pu2qdK3HXseazY0H4HZKp5v969VkqDxI_xoaFBYrNYGRP0BgjZrtDRm-1shAv0Kosgly8xUeR8SxAslmbvFpaHEE8zg9Bp_Y71c9R4I3TlB0mBRaeAEAKouqTTEOH1OiEywU/s1600/Screenshot-464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbWVB6q-pu2qdK3HXseazY0H4HZKp5v969VkqDxI_xoaFBYrNYGRP0BgjZrtDRm-1shAv0Kosgly8xUeR8SxAslmbvFpaHEE8zg9Bp_Y71c9R4I3TlB0mBRaeAEAKouqTTEOH1OiEywU/s640/Screenshot-464.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Barry was still fresh in my mind. The hate in his eyes when he pushed me against the bookcase that day and forced me to have sex with him still resonated at the front of my mind. I had nightmares that he would come find me and assault me again. It was putting me off from taking the next step in my relationship with Absolon, which was contradictory because I wanted nothing more than to be intimate with him. Absolon never pressured me thankfully, and I knew it was because he knew what I'd been through. There were many times I wanted to, especially any time I saw Absolon shirtless, but I always stopped myself. My whole life I had never had a good sexual experience, and I was fearful that it just meant I wasn't capable of enjoying it, that somehow I wasn't worth it. Deep down, I still felt like a piece of garbage that needed to be thrown away.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ4zO32P6tWprH_qQEqZ3Rk9wDOW913sZA4ABC9LEhH8CUaUsz8N2VqnzUif286DQGYHh_3pj2yDxWM05IBadLPD-gAHSn11bqJl6kPwmS1AD_YhSebBTaqV1syLYEXUPRo_KN0jJOkWQ/s1600/Screenshot-465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ4zO32P6tWprH_qQEqZ3Rk9wDOW913sZA4ABC9LEhH8CUaUsz8N2VqnzUif286DQGYHh_3pj2yDxWM05IBadLPD-gAHSn11bqJl6kPwmS1AD_YhSebBTaqV1syLYEXUPRo_KN0jJOkWQ/s640/Screenshot-465.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<b>Have you gotten over those feelings of worthlessness since then, and how did you figure out your love life?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Yes, for the most part. Sometimes the feelings surface, but they don't linger for more than a day or two anymore. As for my love life, one day, I just couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to do more with Absolon than just kiss and hug him. I took a chance, and told him that I was scared, but that I really wanted it. He was hesitant at first because he didn't want to scare me, but he came up with an idea that worked perfectly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOs_CgsejB0BZ2pOG8Xa8SWWj_7IkMOQRPXa5pNGfBbqJ1Vm5BEirSNH-p4lnuQSagOCo7Z4YDYKd0tzp04Kh5Lh2-jyrwD5w4SbLEWUpsguAofzSuLE0j3RAp2Y77PtCiZatnU6B0KTY/s1600/Screenshot-497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOs_CgsejB0BZ2pOG8Xa8SWWj_7IkMOQRPXa5pNGfBbqJ1Vm5BEirSNH-p4lnuQSagOCo7Z4YDYKd0tzp04Kh5Lh2-jyrwD5w4SbLEWUpsguAofzSuLE0j3RAp2Y77PtCiZatnU6B0KTY/s640/Screenshot-497.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I was having one of my more confident days since the escape, and Absolon had just bent over to pick something up off the floor. All I could do was stare at him. His jeans were really tight and I wanted to see what he looked like without them. I'd had days like this before, where I wanted to kiss him and have it lead to something more, but I always stopped myself. In my head, I was giving myself a pep talk about why I didn't need to be afraid of my own boyfriend, who'd been nothing but gentle to me. I don't even know how long I was concentrating on the talk, but all of a sudden Absolon was standing in front of me. I made my way over to him and kissed him harder than I usually did.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIkGnQ1fonySvmbFnrT12oyGDfz_K0urDZRuOW2hT2kLYuRHp2hZwjC2XljhTN43EoPF4Flhlf0dezlAgPSS0OF96Crb0Vo7H_V6eTvwUZTsfu3oEMQKfDH78MfW-hS5viZfLzJVMMpA/s1600/Screenshot-466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIkGnQ1fonySvmbFnrT12oyGDfz_K0urDZRuOW2hT2kLYuRHp2hZwjC2XljhTN43EoPF4Flhlf0dezlAgPSS0OF96Crb0Vo7H_V6eTvwUZTsfu3oEMQKfDH78MfW-hS5viZfLzJVMMpA/s640/Screenshot-466.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I was afraid I was going to chicken out again, but because I really didn't want to, I put my hands under Absolon's shirt, as a way to tell him that I really did want more.<br />
<br />
"Hi, Titanium."<br />
<br />
Absolon smiled seductively at me and hugged me to his body. He didn't do anything more, even though I knew he was excited with what I was doing. I didn't blame him because I had told him how rough Barry was with me, and that I was terrified of being held and groped like that.<br />
<br />
"Absolon, I want to... but I don't know how to prevent myself from stopping halfway through if something triggers the bad memories."<br />
<br />
"What about this? What if you initiate everything? I won't do anything except what you tell me to."<br />
<br />
What Absolon said was like music to my ears. I was so happy that I was going to get the chance to take the next step in our relationship without any fear that I would be hurt again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROp_wqC3yi_LjD8qzxuiWX-vPVtiUPCTd_cgUrlI3saB_p4OVxVKRxRdfJfuJl5b3xq34755xyWwmYqztvrcU2SRXNPEqFKJxcdaMrDt56CLPUtbDcN_35OYMTFc5XdM27Pq6tLwIn2g/s1600/Screenshot-467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROp_wqC3yi_LjD8qzxuiWX-vPVtiUPCTd_cgUrlI3saB_p4OVxVKRxRdfJfuJl5b3xq34755xyWwmYqztvrcU2SRXNPEqFKJxcdaMrDt56CLPUtbDcN_35OYMTFc5XdM27Pq6tLwIn2g/s640/Screenshot-467.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Now that I was given free reign to do whatever I wanted to Absolon, I knew the first thing I wanted was to see his chest, so I quickly unbuttoned his shirt. I continued making out with him ditching my clothing as I led him over to the bed, where I straddled him and rubbed his chest.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1kgoA-LOaD_fTeHx9loM_JSnNNGCXsLJMudaPTNfk9YnIVnIVpGxnpBbM_KwPnGl_TfYWMHRCub6wwLlk5Jh2vA7-lWJhYOY65b-EIIVWjyOFCRSUplTLSKipymWA71PAMXLCKduVhI/s1600/Screenshot-498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1kgoA-LOaD_fTeHx9loM_JSnNNGCXsLJMudaPTNfk9YnIVnIVpGxnpBbM_KwPnGl_TfYWMHRCub6wwLlk5Jh2vA7-lWJhYOY65b-EIIVWjyOFCRSUplTLSKipymWA71PAMXLCKduVhI/s640/Screenshot-498.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGommzMzwkH4TH045OUSESop2muDe46TsuGJPI6G-UzrwtWT179lpDzNlfzgYfZvQ-kPDUcIYYS9MFLasNODfkxlxnLW6b7WctLfzoxRGReMkGuLNt_oVM6mxGk_w8-pjj0_xqA2MXnQg/s1600/Screenshot-468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGommzMzwkH4TH045OUSESop2muDe46TsuGJPI6G-UzrwtWT179lpDzNlfzgYfZvQ-kPDUcIYYS9MFLasNODfkxlxnLW6b7WctLfzoxRGReMkGuLNt_oVM6mxGk_w8-pjj0_xqA2MXnQg/s640/Screenshot-468.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScFtqCQM31cu87F7mcq2sWiS75U8IVWfx8lwoEwAMyCb3ar3UzIFYWMejBNL2LPsCOvUNPxMA0rwcWx-8SfLDg2FHU__LuzPCYvzHRgZUU9n4ktByyK9_rRuo2RuwnVnHOGW2AOhAmBs/s1600/Screenshot-494.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScFtqCQM31cu87F7mcq2sWiS75U8IVWfx8lwoEwAMyCb3ar3UzIFYWMejBNL2LPsCOvUNPxMA0rwcWx-8SfLDg2FHU__LuzPCYvzHRgZUU9n4ktByyK9_rRuo2RuwnVnHOGW2AOhAmBs/s640/Screenshot-494.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Once he was on the bed, I remembered how much I had wanted to see him without any pants on, so that was the next thing that fell to the floor. I looked at Absolon and he was smiling at me, obviously liking what I was doing. I climbed on the bed, leaning down to kiss Absolon. He put his arms around my neck and lifted his left leg to rest it on my hip. I looked into his eyes, smiling at him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPdGELGkMK0zHvtj4H3MaAJTKe9oaGJCiyj1FK7t_uUAe7iqSWYIpxPxNzayE0oY3KZPqmZbvDchQMbyb9wRwhzrjUFcfK4uJAQjXQ45cDGOCahmLRNp21D6GetQ3juzpBioRJszpEqc/s1600/Screenshot-489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPdGELGkMK0zHvtj4H3MaAJTKe9oaGJCiyj1FK7t_uUAe7iqSWYIpxPxNzayE0oY3KZPqmZbvDchQMbyb9wRwhzrjUFcfK4uJAQjXQ45cDGOCahmLRNp21D6GetQ3juzpBioRJszpEqc/s640/Screenshot-489.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
As we were making out, I felt Absolon against me and I wanted to show him how much I appreciated him. His breathing became more ragged and heavy as I held him in my mouth. I was feeling like I was ready for more so I slowly removed myself from him, and he let out a pleasure filled moan. He laid there with his eyes closed for a moment, but then he opened them and smiled at me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIcz1QIP95rrwEHDrEduBu0mwlgM9QhHu2ajE4_4R3qPpjFeneNDJVpu4Ip7gyIZJXFMshChITt8nX4LRazwh1NR5QlzP2H83u46bsZln92wpWeAdVrvyIpRW0OgrT7COJoy4N7NMkZU/s1600/Screenshot-490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIcz1QIP95rrwEHDrEduBu0mwlgM9QhHu2ajE4_4R3qPpjFeneNDJVpu4Ip7gyIZJXFMshChITt8nX4LRazwh1NR5QlzP2H83u46bsZln92wpWeAdVrvyIpRW0OgrT7COJoy4N7NMkZU/s640/Screenshot-490.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I wasn't sure what I wanted to do as far as positions went, so I just decided to go with the standard missionary position. I got on top of Absolon and put my hands on the bed. He looked at me with his gorgeous pink eyes and I kissed his mouth as I entered him. Absolon put his hands on my shoulders and continued his heavy breathing. I rocked my body back and forth on him, until I suddenly felt a build up of pressure that had happened the first time I was intimate with Abilene in the Intimacy Room, but this time it didn't feel forced. I didn't have to think about it feeling good, it just naturally did.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLS7Kbq6mmLpsIHtCcdEGYCMSOb-CJ0CsIUHh8XAjVioruoGoOXAp7GCEA3FLQJ5Yup-HFYTlgSTYzOwRETIR9yOgH0BiPZC_D7Hh4ph235r1GZrhn7k9gnNW70q6l-upMQ7ZbDoixDo/s1600/Screenshot-491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLS7Kbq6mmLpsIHtCcdEGYCMSOb-CJ0CsIUHh8XAjVioruoGoOXAp7GCEA3FLQJ5Yup-HFYTlgSTYzOwRETIR9yOgH0BiPZC_D7Hh4ph235r1GZrhn7k9gnNW70q6l-upMQ7ZbDoixDo/s640/Screenshot-491.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When the pressure relieved itself, I put my face next to Absolon's and kissed his cheek. He and I were both panting, and we laid there with our eyes closed for a few minutes.<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Absolon, for not pressuring me."<br />
<br />
"I wouldn't dream of it. Did you enjoy that?"<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhwNJV9gG2cagYGcfIbFZ_FN2-BaHExiS13J8pKe8thM5kyV8qJYVc5NmzjA8fYE8h1WPCvf7t_PCATjDlfyMpvAj-3oY35i7JbITJ5loBT1uf6joXsgKtyMUr11ZuAozbpihValC8G0/s1600/Screenshot-493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhwNJV9gG2cagYGcfIbFZ_FN2-BaHExiS13J8pKe8thM5kyV8qJYVc5NmzjA8fYE8h1WPCvf7t_PCATjDlfyMpvAj-3oY35i7JbITJ5loBT1uf6joXsgKtyMUr11ZuAozbpihValC8G0/s640/Screenshot-493.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
After that, any time we had sex, Absolon would let me do what I was comfortable with until I told him otherwise. It worked like a charm and I was eventually able to get over being raped. Barry no longer plagued my dreams, I realized I was capable of enjoying sex, and the best part of it was that I stopped feeling like a used piece of garbage.LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-21578000672626987292013-08-08T22:34:00.004-07:002021-03-27T19:31:43.969-07:00Chapter 35: Report<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Music Track: Play when it shows up if you want to listen. </h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
~ Late Knight Simmer ~</h2>
<br />
I haven't seen Camo in days and I miss him. I'm a little worried about him because the conversation I had with Absolon about the shelter totally creeped me out.<br />
<br />
RING-RING.<br />
<br />
"Hello?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZorlR9swC-o5Uh1Jh9Ads0bCYLkg7K87N1HUFNuA9-xMVaq05F_QswsaYnI1n2S4H07SU7vKIXbZSuIZ3bKPd9vykZzYpM2Io7S08e1Mq-D-4DRND2sehvz45zLzZSTm7s_P8NZ-tlA4/s1600/Screenshot-225.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZorlR9swC-o5Uh1Jh9Ads0bCYLkg7K87N1HUFNuA9-xMVaq05F_QswsaYnI1n2S4H07SU7vKIXbZSuIZ3bKPd9vykZzYpM2Io7S08e1Mq-D-4DRND2sehvz45zLzZSTm7s_P8NZ-tlA4/s640/Screenshot-225.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Hey, Verona, I found Mom, and your car. It's at the station, and it doesn't look like Mom did anything to it, except run it low on gas."<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Victor."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBz9udvoiufq77cZ5yBH5uQC2wipVDW-JjIBcCN6AH-1Eg2mEs-pcFkq00Uw9C_Px41E_ZvlNFzglz_XEt7my_8vfcTFonUqcaStHhvTkyzvMtHUulacplzJyWfuhyphenhyphenPEiIji25Fwsl0Vs/s1600/Screenshot-226.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBz9udvoiufq77cZ5yBH5uQC2wipVDW-JjIBcCN6AH-1Eg2mEs-pcFkq00Uw9C_Px41E_ZvlNFzglz_XEt7my_8vfcTFonUqcaStHhvTkyzvMtHUulacplzJyWfuhyphenhyphenPEiIji25Fwsl0Vs/s640/Screenshot-226.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
As I leave the house and head for the police station, I see Camo and Titanium walking up to the gate. My heart does flip flops at the sight of Camo, and I run towards him with a smile on my face. My smile fades quickly, however, when I see that he has what looks to be a multitude of bruises on his face. They don't look fresh, but they look like they hurt. I can't stop the tears from flowing down my face as I collapse into his arms.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6NJKkJNdqMPvfszYfVL7WCtQyVqeeFooXagKdXV5Lf-q0uGlwg_nA5imh9CLEyA1TWR1bWAqWMTdEIduG3mo_ZNFtHlBAimaV_ezGnSIhepaXDS5gFkRYXONXOhXl0HxvNAe1MpF8Wg/s1600/Screenshot-227.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6NJKkJNdqMPvfszYfVL7WCtQyVqeeFooXagKdXV5Lf-q0uGlwg_nA5imh9CLEyA1TWR1bWAqWMTdEIduG3mo_ZNFtHlBAimaV_ezGnSIhepaXDS5gFkRYXONXOhXl0HxvNAe1MpF8Wg/s640/Screenshot-227.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo? What happened to your face?"<br />
<br />
"I got punished."<br />
<br />
"What? Why?"<br />
<br />
"Titanium hugged me, and we got punished."<br />
<br />
"Camo, that's ridiculous. No one should be punished for hugging their friend. You can't go back there."<br />
<br />
"Believe me, I don't want to, but how do I get away with staying out? The Leader always goes out looking for people if they aren't back by curfew. I don't want to live my life on the run. He'd probably find me and punish me again for trying to leave. I don't know what to do, Verona."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3j06cxJ8B7D0Lqd9oEo_LtQSZqFf5LIpyv16IGaOwIQXuE_JkH8xuaaD8_C_ETqOCehvHwVRH4_PHVn9cTC90fj2BKjPesiPATmyNzsDCMvgvlJ9_tBSvZ2BodKVo41_-lSiXZxhgkJI/s1600/Screenshot-228.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3j06cxJ8B7D0Lqd9oEo_LtQSZqFf5LIpyv16IGaOwIQXuE_JkH8xuaaD8_C_ETqOCehvHwVRH4_PHVn9cTC90fj2BKjPesiPATmyNzsDCMvgvlJ9_tBSvZ2BodKVo41_-lSiXZxhgkJI/s640/Screenshot-228.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"The Leader? Camo, that sounds really creepy. Do you seriously have to call him that?"<br />
<br />
"He insists on 'Mr. Leader, sir,' actually, but I rarely say that. I don't address him as anything. I don't talk to him much unless he talks to me first. Were you going somewhere?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I'm going to the police station to pick up my car. My mother stole it last week. We can tell my detective brother you were assaulted, since it's obvious from your wounds, and get a restraining order filed so this Leader person can't make you go back there."<br />
<br />
"Is your brother just going to think I'm lying because I don't like it there?"<br />
<br />
"No, since you and Titanium both have wounds that are very similar, it looks suspicious, you know?"<br />
<br />
"Titanium? We can be free from The Compound if we do this. It will work better if you come too, like Verona said, two cases of assault is stronger than just me going in. I know you were scared to come out today, but you must have done it for a reason. Will you come to the police with me?"<br />
<br />
"Ye- yes."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBj0LkoXoFLyg1f0sxpNSt6-ZzbetcgJDSRGroQfERTcjcLBmCa7KgqLM41WDMjsOr0uXlOYgOmRSVJn-OM4kZBGT_mxB4yDIa_3CH4RYz8qlgLIEN5of3Ru2eQZDpjn2nyixQykzEME/s1600/Screenshot-231.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBj0LkoXoFLyg1f0sxpNSt6-ZzbetcgJDSRGroQfERTcjcLBmCa7KgqLM41WDMjsOr0uXlOYgOmRSVJn-OM4kZBGT_mxB4yDIa_3CH4RYz8qlgLIEN5of3Ru2eQZDpjn2nyixQykzEME/s640/Screenshot-231.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Just then, Absolon comes running out to where we are standing because I sent him a text that Titanium was here. Absolon pulls Titanium into his arms and holds him tight. It's then that I hear Titanium start crying.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
"Titanium, shh, it's okay. What's the matter?"<br />
<br />
"I don't want to say it. I'm too scared. I'm broken, damaged, you don't want me. I don't know why anyone would want me."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-oqKerFp61jZiF3kopBpgzCvG6Jd4uXl7oO7zitiCldH4QGmoRcX_zu-KKOZ9NyKTWJTaPMcbyWB45SjvMWJR-Q2W9xCRBy_2NpH3-LEYI9HlZyTyDVVaDFS5QgUAfQck7ANYLvwjBnk/s1600/Screenshot-232.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-oqKerFp61jZiF3kopBpgzCvG6Jd4uXl7oO7zitiCldH4QGmoRcX_zu-KKOZ9NyKTWJTaPMcbyWB45SjvMWJR-Q2W9xCRBy_2NpH3-LEYI9HlZyTyDVVaDFS5QgUAfQck7ANYLvwjBnk/s640/Screenshot-232.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I don't know what they did to him, but I am not letting him go back to The Compound. Not after seeing the bruises and cuts on his skin. The Compound already claimed the life of one person I loved, they are not going to take Titanium away from me.<br />
<br />
"Titanium? Look at me. You are not broken. You are nothing but fucking perfect to me. Okay?"<br />
<br />
<div class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Hl0qf1pgjEs" width="483" youtube-src-id="Hl0qf1pgjEs"></iframe></div><blockquote><i>Made a wrong turn, once or twice</i><br />
<i>Dug my way out, blood and fire</i><br />
<i>Bad decisions, that's all right</i><br />
<i>Welcome to my silly life </i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood</i><br />
<i>Miss, no way it's all good, it didn't slow me down</i><br />
<i>Mistaken, always second guessing</i><br />
<i>Underestimated, look, I'm still around </i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel</i><br />
<i>Like you're less than fucking perfect</i><br />
<i>Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel</i><br />
<i>Like you're nothing, you're fucking perfect to me </i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>You're so mean when you talk</i><br />
<i>About yourself, you are wrong</i><br />
<i>Change the voices in your head</i><br />
<i>Make them like you instead </i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>So complicated, look how big you'll make it</i><br />
<i>Filled with so much hatred, such a tired game</i><br />
<i>It's enough, I've done all I can think of</i><br />
<i>Chased down all my demons, see you do the same </i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>The whole world stares while I swallow the fear</i><br />
<i>The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer</i><br />
<i>So cool in lying and we tried, tried, tried</i><br />
<i>But we try too hard, it's a waste of my time </i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>Done looking for the critics cause they're everywhere</i><br />
<i>They don't like my genes, they don't get my hair</i><br />
<i>Strange, ourselves and we do it all the time</i><br />
<i>Why do we do that? Why do I do that? Why do I do that?</i></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Fuckin' Perfect - by Pink </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"What do you mean you're damaged? Just cause people have told you that you don't mean anything doesn't mean it's true."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"No, I get told that I'm better than everyone, it's not that. I'm damaged because- because I was- I can't say it, it's too painful. I don't want to remember it! You deserve better than me, I'm just a used piece of garbage."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Used piece of garbage? Oh crap, is that what I think it sounds like?</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Titanium, did you get raped?"<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU3kMXYyidtMKjKKGr3nKuHJVsYeatFu8DyxWRc_vSUcEnGDOHw8HRfeYSJHjqUiU9L7Qr-fUuOqIS8eUqqTPhd4C78Ks8PoXPGhHU8N2OM0pj66LachhpXIQMJOir1kBOPXz3q5Nq9IY/s1600/Screenshot-233.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU3kMXYyidtMKjKKGr3nKuHJVsYeatFu8DyxWRc_vSUcEnGDOHw8HRfeYSJHjqUiU9L7Qr-fUuOqIS8eUqqTPhd4C78Ks8PoXPGhHU8N2OM0pj66LachhpXIQMJOir1kBOPXz3q5Nq9IY/s640/Screenshot-233.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
He looks at me briefly, and then looks to the side. He doesn't say anything, but the look in his eyes is telling me that I guessed correctly. I pull him close to my chest and try to keep myself from breaking down as well. For all the rules that place seems to have, it doesn't make sense that they would allow their residents to behave that way. I do know though, once they start suspecting any sense of rebellion, they go to great lengths to beat down the rebellious person, by any means necessary.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>The day my family fell apart was just a typical Sunday afternoon. Mom had been staying at The Compound more and more, and she had finally come home, after almost a year. We were doing well without her, at least as well as we could. I knew Dad missed her a lot because he did love her. I hadn't taken it very well because I was mad at Mom for leaving and so I clung to Dad for support. When she walked in the door, she looked tired and like she had aged ten years since I last saw her. I don't even know why she came back. She stood in the hallway like our house was a foreign object to her, and she didn't look like my mom anymore, she just looked like a broken woman who was lost in her own body. I looked at her, unsure of how to even talk to her, even though I missed her desperately. Dad ran over to her and tried to hug her, but she pushed him away.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Don't touch me, Enigma. I came to tell you that I've had a child for the good of The Compound."</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyFncYmRUaeJ2sXJ7HjMk6fJx6KVTZ-CS9M_U2pE7Bsnj29n6XHALHhgWuj7K2WD1KaQCyeRJ_ZFkWQFJY8K_h_VgLs0KBmz3TTRKo7Nt-r7ZENeYpByXu_JntfHJo5kRQ-0IC0kjeB8/s1600/Screenshot-252.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyFncYmRUaeJ2sXJ7HjMk6fJx6KVTZ-CS9M_U2pE7Bsnj29n6XHALHhgWuj7K2WD1KaQCyeRJ_ZFkWQFJY8K_h_VgLs0KBmz3TTRKo7Nt-r7ZENeYpByXu_JntfHJo5kRQ-0IC0kjeB8/s640/Screenshot-252.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVBHq5a0TdcSZZgYotE4eroclargngqwUUfOMJKJIlIXzIARoXMdBKPioLVl_38-Q8ILyntGpHSZO64trw9FRVU2QMfv0zXCdHbJdgaQJChREUIty1yO0Cj_EJGAl3R18WmzqC9Bpnw8/s1600/Screenshot-254.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVBHq5a0TdcSZZgYotE4eroclargngqwUUfOMJKJIlIXzIARoXMdBKPioLVl_38-Q8ILyntGpHSZO64trw9FRVU2QMfv0zXCdHbJdgaQJChREUIty1yO0Cj_EJGAl3R18WmzqC9Bpnw8/s640/Screenshot-254.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"What are you talking about? You slept with someone else?"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Yes, it's my duty to breed new residents so they can be raised with good values."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>As soon as she opened her mouth and started talking like a robot, my anger surfaced and buried my feelings of missing her. I felt bad, but I was so angry at this woman who looked like my mother, but had taken my mother's mind and hidden it from me.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Why are you even here, Mom? You clearly don't give a shit about us anymore."</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvm1k-XoMh5hTIC9qdNzByXF_kwLJLnM6a0O8MYfe4Thdp4cyFEMnQ11O3O0t1HZsRBXf_AH8T2TR1gRxVjSYFG0bFeXZMNHfh55IQVqUlMiCP5Xi3OZJ3c5f0LDILeNMeesVzgsvkTMY/s1600/Screenshot-253.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvm1k-XoMh5hTIC9qdNzByXF_kwLJLnM6a0O8MYfe4Thdp4cyFEMnQ11O3O0t1HZsRBXf_AH8T2TR1gRxVjSYFG0bFeXZMNHfh55IQVqUlMiCP5Xi3OZJ3c5f0LDILeNMeesVzgsvkTMY/s640/Screenshot-253.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Absolon! Don't talk to your mother that way."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"It's true, Dad! She left us!"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"She's back now."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Really? Look at her! She's barely here! She's like a shell of a human being! She doesn't love us anymore!"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Don't say that, Absolon. She came back, that means she still remembers. We have to help her."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"No, Enigma. I require no assistance. I came because I'm here to recruit the both of you to come live in The Compound with me. It is dangerous in this world outside, you can be safe with me. You can be with me again."</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNPSNTJUWvUAha2OJjcEUzI4QG6AFnoy1efDbaa658zsA2RDt-NhZ-vqbyuZQ6hIeAOFQVL5is2eJX7hyphenhyphen1maEDqnM7GgVhE56gLZN_wdMQl8xFSEXEMcvudEzR5VqLTe8WJ7R_M2rDzI/s1600/Screenshot-255.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNPSNTJUWvUAha2OJjcEUzI4QG6AFnoy1efDbaa658zsA2RDt-NhZ-vqbyuZQ6hIeAOFQVL5is2eJX7hyphenhyphen1maEDqnM7GgVhE56gLZN_wdMQl8xFSEXEMcvudEzR5VqLTe8WJ7R_M2rDzI/s640/Screenshot-255.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Fuck that Mom. Look at you! I'm not letting them turn me into what you've become! I'm not going!"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"We have to commit her to a psychiatric ward."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>As soon as Dad said those words, Mom became lively, obviously disliking that option. She started arguing with Dad, saying she wasn't crazy, that she had seen the light, and that we didn't have to live in the darkness anymore, if we would just go with her to a better place. Dad tried to calm her down, but she wouldn't listen. She kept saying that The Leader had warned her that we might react negatively.</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXB9cAJ84lQAXi7pKZMEfbqmWrJM8WTLaZ4-vCR3oa7aWJ8nO6UkQtT0bd8HEwz0L2LhH8TH3AwUzp3PF4hTkCbgq_YQdYmGEQjU4fba1tGGJymD5WYl_v31sy7vFcUYlVmXAF-dQEBw/s1600/Screenshot-257.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXB9cAJ84lQAXi7pKZMEfbqmWrJM8WTLaZ4-vCR3oa7aWJ8nO6UkQtT0bd8HEwz0L2LhH8TH3AwUzp3PF4hTkCbgq_YQdYmGEQjU4fba1tGGJymD5WYl_v31sy7vFcUYlVmXAF-dQEBw/s640/Screenshot-257.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"The Leader? What the fuck are you rambling on about, Andromeda? Are you insane?"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"The Leader cares about me more than you do."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"What? Is he the one you slept with? Is he running some polygamous thing, where you're one of fifteen wives?"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"No. It was just a random resident. We do not believe in marriage."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"What?! You're married to me! What the fuck do you mean you don't believe in marriage?! Andromeda, what is wrong with you?!"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"You and Absolon need to come with me, it's better this way, I can show you the light. You don't have to live like this anymore."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i>
<i>I felt so bad for Dad, he looked so sad despite him trying to talk sense into Mom. It looked like he didn't really think there was anything that he could do for her.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3KjPoOmqERIdVo8KCMTou9sn5-887YDtVuOtBpUTvtP6XgaP3f55NdXb15jl_vYWhbQA6oCSYD9N4g4PcbQg7-j0Urfy18T0Cn7YK1DiCMvV1m40-ykFx556C90MhXxC6WPd6OmvOkE/s1600/Screenshot-256.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3KjPoOmqERIdVo8KCMTou9sn5-887YDtVuOtBpUTvtP6XgaP3f55NdXb15jl_vYWhbQA6oCSYD9N4g4PcbQg7-j0Urfy18T0Cn7YK1DiCMvV1m40-ykFx556C90MhXxC6WPd6OmvOkE/s640/Screenshot-256.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Stop it, Andromeda. Absolon and I are going to take you to a place where they can help you."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"No. I don't need any help. You and Absolon are the ones who need help. You are corrupted by this world."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Andromeda, look at me. Forget about all the who needs help talk for a second. Why did you come back? You've been gone for a year. Absolon and I thought you just ran away because you didn't love us anymore. Do you still love me?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Yes, I miss you. That's why I want you to come with me. I was afraid that you both were still living in this corrupt world, I came to save you from the danger."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Dad tried to convince Mom that she was safe here with us, but I couldn't get over how blank and empty her eyes looked.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0NVoBgmYqwRR81ukXxZ5WJZRGoJFQ12z5wkbY8_SkpxvEqmfbGNK0GT8-OOjbW5Dkkmt8UNV2cA4MdTcqae5G1EYRGCDV4pCAceWat-7H4cW5wIpJkWeNBu58tqu_dVrNVkgIPQREP8/s1600/Screenshot-258.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0NVoBgmYqwRR81ukXxZ5WJZRGoJFQ12z5wkbY8_SkpxvEqmfbGNK0GT8-OOjbW5Dkkmt8UNV2cA4MdTcqae5G1EYRGCDV4pCAceWat-7H4cW5wIpJkWeNBu58tqu_dVrNVkgIPQREP8/s640/Screenshot-258.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Andromeda, Absolon and I are not in danger, but we both want you to come home. Stay with us. This is your home."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Mom shook her head, not convinced that we were fine, and that we loved her.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"No. The Leader said you would do this, he said you would try to make me stay with you instead."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Suddenly Mom bit down hard on something, causing her to start convulsing and foaming at the mouth. She fell and Dad held her in his arms. A few seconds later she was dead. She had bitten down on a cyanide pill. It was the worst thing I've ever seen, my own mother killing herself because she'd been so brainwashed she didn't even know her own family anymore.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7iJNGemlekkfp1osC8Pv08jBuhyphenhypheniph8jS_w7MzcE2vtR3xaRJwZk7sWf1RXHni_fj4CNCtUge4VSFLzIIHMnzdD4GMzm9wVIHJ1Pg686Y7dJj0M35A-GvuRLffaLp02XfW1m8bm0EWLA/s1600/Screenshot-261.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7iJNGemlekkfp1osC8Pv08jBuhyphenhypheniph8jS_w7MzcE2vtR3xaRJwZk7sWf1RXHni_fj4CNCtUge4VSFLzIIHMnzdD4GMzm9wVIHJ1Pg686Y7dJj0M35A-GvuRLffaLp02XfW1m8bm0EWLA/s640/Screenshot-261.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkfTjdAxPHJ2XLy6blt9nCK333VmXZUTonI397fUWodCd6rQhVJ0CWROxi6OC-6DQ403p_9hyphenhyphenUPY7k99BN0ht0QQEx5nk6wx0WZ0lvjPxDPNTNBHZWdyLLN1ClaJoJWPZx_S__bQByKQ/s1600/Screenshot-259.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkfTjdAxPHJ2XLy6blt9nCK333VmXZUTonI397fUWodCd6rQhVJ0CWROxi6OC-6DQ403p_9hyphenhyphenUPY7k99BN0ht0QQEx5nk6wx0WZ0lvjPxDPNTNBHZWdyLLN1ClaJoJWPZx_S__bQByKQ/s640/Screenshot-259.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>After Mom killed herself, Dad started drinking heavily every night, and eventually, our relationship died as well. Everything we had worked so hard to build up in those few years fell apart. The Compound tears people apart, and they'd prefer it that you remain broken and empty. They can control you better that way if you have no fight left in you. They thrive on pain and suffering even though they tell you they're relieving you of it. I'll never forget the look in my mother's eyes when she said her last words, she looked alive as in her heart was beating, but her eyes said that she died long ago, when she joined that horrible place.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I hug Titanium close to me, sad that I thought of that awful memory. Titanium's my only family now since my dad kicked me out of the house, and I don't want to lose him. Verona taps me on the shoulder and tells me of her plan to go to the police. The four of us pile in my car and head to the police station.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jVEMqD19-AzJW9XF00gdPyS-snaVJ-2aaQExEz1WRnAlv7_YSuAmBQAbnU5yHogYOPkLBbrkVxjUHFhWhodPFWw93zcsgEgc4FYcl-btaugQ6g2ri1pVkkgwHH0IRDiqqjWZ-l2kuaU/s1600/Screenshot-235.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jVEMqD19-AzJW9XF00gdPyS-snaVJ-2aaQExEz1WRnAlv7_YSuAmBQAbnU5yHogYOPkLBbrkVxjUHFhWhodPFWw93zcsgEgc4FYcl-btaugQ6g2ri1pVkkgwHH0IRDiqqjWZ-l2kuaU/s640/Screenshot-235.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-61408719577515161342013-07-06T21:36:00.000-07:002013-07-29T20:10:38.340-07:00Chapter 34: Stuck<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpkC1WN9dPSnSpHD_D2wGoqsh2tlqS5xXdSVxHKOHxzHdC6TVfBP6q-Nd-6lyqnadirIG3HQk6lwuGQd2jmQPmS6p7EpITzzFZVcinEdN_sJm061rAvqsdnoUPGjorV-bYYGPahiqwrE/s1360/Screenshot-356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpkC1WN9dPSnSpHD_D2wGoqsh2tlqS5xXdSVxHKOHxzHdC6TVfBP6q-Nd-6lyqnadirIG3HQk6lwuGQd2jmQPmS6p7EpITzzFZVcinEdN_sJm061rAvqsdnoUPGjorV-bYYGPahiqwrE/s640/Screenshot-356.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosM_SXngc9830vAT5JGThMzkxXjTRP-aCgcVneOe7_Gozzzub3dMX70enW6FndG2-QpAUTP7t9hxNVP0mpDcgBloVdihtbLgwOhEex3aNsLiJqgA51LAXXSFRUy9_c66oi4Bs5VB5LlY/s1360/Screenshot-357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosM_SXngc9830vAT5JGThMzkxXjTRP-aCgcVneOe7_Gozzzub3dMX70enW6FndG2-QpAUTP7t9hxNVP0mpDcgBloVdihtbLgwOhEex3aNsLiJqgA51LAXXSFRUy9_c66oi4Bs5VB5LlY/s640/Screenshot-357.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It's been a few days since Titanium woke up in the clinic with Camo, hooked up to an IV that delivered him the essential fluids that he'd lost over the past week he'd been in Isolation. The heart monitor slowly beeped, keeping track of his vital signs. Titanium was weak when he was pulled out of Isolation, much weaker than Camo. When he was first brought to the clinic, his heart beat barely registered on the heart monitor. He drifted in and out of consciousness the first two days, and there were times the nurses thought he might go into a coma and never wake up. Camo was luckier, however, he was tired of course, and malnourished, just as Titanium was, but he was never on the verge of being comatose. Any time his eyes were closed, it was because he was asleep.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVvqw5l98KJxw3UWz7_gjxZmItLf-vLJNqSYOmtaD-P4TvtUPh_5XtSWTpJtmaWH2BXQGdSYRn_N-ban-WaL9rI2cRfG7lrCjqooq3jv3eZitnRxuWLZOv8Dk2qd7dDOK11Sh1BtvedW0/s1360/Screenshot-358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVvqw5l98KJxw3UWz7_gjxZmItLf-vLJNqSYOmtaD-P4TvtUPh_5XtSWTpJtmaWH2BXQGdSYRn_N-ban-WaL9rI2cRfG7lrCjqooq3jv3eZitnRxuWLZOv8Dk2qd7dDOK11Sh1BtvedW0/s640/Screenshot-358.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Titanium and Camo have since returned to the general population of The Compound, walking around, going to class, attending the weekly gathering, and visiting the cafeteria. They sit in front of the fountain together again, enjoying each other's company. They play pool at the pool table The Leader bought for them. They continue to be roommates despite the suspicious activity they were supposedly caught doing. The Leader greets them with a warm smile as they pass him in the cafeteria. Things seem normal again, but the normalcy is far from the truth. Barry walks by, causing shivers to go through Titanium's entire being. Camo notices and is saddened by it, but is unable to give him a reassuring pat on the back or a friendly hug, for fear of being thrown into the cells of hell again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCBqKkkAandY-LB6w_PE72OOmpz7hFV85MzTTxzFvD36gd0lwrhXzO8AgDEu9iC1pvIUgPjYnt9tL1Qt4IATWXmsC1NmNMaqxHDmjW6dTK4MycO3TH9Hnoos62KwwFpdjJQLXqEOIxQY8/s1360/Screenshot-359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCBqKkkAandY-LB6w_PE72OOmpz7hFV85MzTTxzFvD36gd0lwrhXzO8AgDEu9iC1pvIUgPjYnt9tL1Qt4IATWXmsC1NmNMaqxHDmjW6dTK4MycO3TH9Hnoos62KwwFpdjJQLXqEOIxQY8/s640/Screenshot-359.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZKHMfDEdTOEhAHbYTsCB6vTrxOLEDfdff1DU9o2Oo65sQYJjaBRCjQ4rVGZi5V9SuM3YImUPBzv6GsZ6S55sLT1v4arbKVP_g_TYB57cuJWf_uIbRlTP_enRQJgxDBGN499-sF0bADA/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZKHMfDEdTOEhAHbYTsCB6vTrxOLEDfdff1DU9o2Oo65sQYJjaBRCjQ4rVGZi5V9SuM3YImUPBzv6GsZ6S55sLT1v4arbKVP_g_TYB57cuJWf_uIbRlTP_enRQJgxDBGN499-sF0bADA/s640/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihw45xpvQ-ZdBIWs8R13Bs1xszzKOEekV0q_kj2HHgb3YuYW8w5LFoC331R4UVgCTVXWb831ZJi-fZONTDO7VQNlNh9Lwi7vNKQYDPSrVS-gOJf0DJ29cZ-jLhHj7EVHN-oK_URAbtj5k/s1600/Screenshot-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihw45xpvQ-ZdBIWs8R13Bs1xszzKOEekV0q_kj2HHgb3YuYW8w5LFoC331R4UVgCTVXWb831ZJi-fZONTDO7VQNlNh9Lwi7vNKQYDPSrVS-gOJf0DJ29cZ-jLhHj7EVHN-oK_URAbtj5k/s640/Screenshot-18.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Titanium may have recovered from being on the brink of death, but he has not recovered from the mental damage that the assault instilled in him. He hasn't been able to set foot in the library since the day it happened and he cries constantly. His emotional state is fractured, and he has nightmares of the incident. Sometimes Camo gets woken up by Titanium's crying, but all he can do is give him a tissue. The silent suffering Titanium is going through saddens Camo every day, and he wishes there was something he could do about it. Titanium sticks with Camo often, like he did before, but he's scared again, of everything, and refuses to leave the grounds. The progress Camo made with him to get him to open up his thinking has backtracked. Titanium appears to have become programmed again with the ways of The Compound. Titanium is afraid of getting put in Isolation again, so he is doing everything he can to be a good resident, to show The Leader that he's a good boy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-ExdfvBdWhyD_oDmUEggJGXrueTYPzdXzoxTdU_21lPBDN1Ix5mZGyCvjGDu_97YwSAZYFX-0X7bvDXW-LcoYJ2MmdulffG62UJs8iAL4RLiTalttxa-nhOYRDBcw1ioHvPMGn0yucY/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-ExdfvBdWhyD_oDmUEggJGXrueTYPzdXzoxTdU_21lPBDN1Ix5mZGyCvjGDu_97YwSAZYFX-0X7bvDXW-LcoYJ2MmdulffG62UJs8iAL4RLiTalttxa-nhOYRDBcw1ioHvPMGn0yucY/s640/Screenshot-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85wXQgCGWSsJFD7C_B69W5-lz7Utem0KB2xZQnxPlbDA1jcV1-_xsVrZKXCfQ2dkK1lXJpSFrjbDDs4_rxVQnV95YSlWkFtjkH-3o7nzUVCW73aXFOlrIkm8xJCdhcLCzO4Auw6iIgKU/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85wXQgCGWSsJFD7C_B69W5-lz7Utem0KB2xZQnxPlbDA1jcV1-_xsVrZKXCfQ2dkK1lXJpSFrjbDDs4_rxVQnV95YSlWkFtjkH-3o7nzUVCW73aXFOlrIkm8xJCdhcLCzO4Auw6iIgKU/s640/Screenshot-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Titanium sits on his bed, with his knees up, curled up as small as he can, like he always does. Camo asked him to come to the bookstore, but Titanium doesn't want to leave The Compound. Camo rolls his eyes, but then smiles at Titanium, waves, and leaves the room. Titanium feels bad for not going with Camo because he knows deep down that it's bad for him to be here, but he's been scared into submission. He's glad Camo is being understanding and giving him space. He knows he's not dealing with this well, but he doesn't know how to snap out of it. He wants to be strong, but he's not ready to start helping himself just yet. His fear has made him weak once again.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/kXYiU_JCYtU" width="560"></iframe></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>"I'm tired of being what you want me to be</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Don't know what you're expecting of me</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Every step that I take is another mistake to you</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>I've become so numb</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>I can't feel you there</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Become so tired, so much more aware</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>I'm becoming this, all I want to do</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Is be more like me and be less like you</b></i>
</span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Can't you see that you're smothering me</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Cause everything that you thought I would be</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Has fallen apart right in front of you</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Every step that I take is another mistake to you</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>And every second I waste is more than I can take</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>And I know I may end up failing too</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>But I know you were just like me with someone disappointed in you</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>I've become so numb</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>I can't feel you there</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>I'm tired of being what you want me to be"</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: inherit;"><i><b>~ Numb by Linkin Park ~</b></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtO87uL8tOtu-T5SgKmR0chGzofq6J1fPH8-qxC81oFiRMMDCbwQ6feP5XAQJBoQ3_m48zXhjSPZKbWun4y4GfLFf6_WCaqUXzF4yD6yT63gy10HbtjmDPFMmmVA3qcXwWGf7x_wMOpCI/s1600/Screenshot-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtO87uL8tOtu-T5SgKmR0chGzofq6J1fPH8-qxC81oFiRMMDCbwQ6feP5XAQJBoQ3_m48zXhjSPZKbWun4y4GfLFf6_WCaqUXzF4yD6yT63gy10HbtjmDPFMmmVA3qcXwWGf7x_wMOpCI/s640/Screenshot-12.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I sit at my dining room table, exhausted from cleaning the house, top to bottom. I didn't expect this to be the start of my weekend, especially after working on the movie set for ten to twelve hours per day. I don't know why I didn't think my weekend would be mine to have, it never is. Maybe I naively thought time would make it better, but I was just kidding myself.<br />
<br />
"Joliana, you tart, you didn't change the toilet paper roll, again. How many fucking times have I told you to change the goddamn roll when it gets empty?"<br />
<br />
I hate this so much. I don't even know why I put up with her nonsense. She's been such a constant pain in my ass for a little over a year. She never gives me time to breathe, it's just one constant complaint after another.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0UbEpIWe72vvDpKrFee0k7SVAL0NaC7p88i2hM66-ykttyaKIC8drRskgWX7U-HU8NmFnzoMUz3ZmuK9HeLPrrElhHIZfvyXSqi49-s16Cpr1zCBd1b6zowvPj3uBLtO4r1P366ZItB8/s1600/Screenshot-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0UbEpIWe72vvDpKrFee0k7SVAL0NaC7p88i2hM66-ykttyaKIC8drRskgWX7U-HU8NmFnzoMUz3ZmuK9HeLPrrElhHIZfvyXSqi49-s16Cpr1zCBd1b6zowvPj3uBLtO4r1P366ZItB8/s640/Screenshot-13.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Well, I just got done cleaning the entire house, and I missed one thing, <b>one thing.</b> Do you think maybe you could cut me a little slack?"<br />
<br />
"It's your week to do chores, it's not my fault you waited until the weekend to do it."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPwpZKDoq-hgzFuYMrZT0xTqD_kkeLgD1JQt7RHhkmVY5pRuxvehShuJBq0PK0rh61KsC_buhAJzjwZvD2wQJtDNiO8SDKZ32gdNazzrU4frB5gnza6ys3r6V_VTjQ4P7kHKEibUzVII/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPwpZKDoq-hgzFuYMrZT0xTqD_kkeLgD1JQt7RHhkmVY5pRuxvehShuJBq0PK0rh61KsC_buhAJzjwZvD2wQJtDNiO8SDKZ32gdNazzrU4frB5gnza6ys3r6V_VTjQ4P7kHKEibUzVII/s640/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
She is ridiculous. I have a time consuming job. It doesn't have the usual 8-5 business hours like everyone else's. It's not like I throw my shit everywhere. How did I get so unlucky to live with the Tidiness Nazi? If I make a humanly error, she chews me out until the cows come home. I don't even know why she wastes so much of her time talking to me if she doesn't like me.<br />
<br />
"Whatever. I cleaned the house, and it's not that fucking hard to change the toilet paper roll. Do you realize you sound like a child whining about it? It would have taken you less time to change it yourself than it did coming out here and yelling at me for five minutes about it."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnivuaW2mC_TMLv1HPNxT2Tx1U61XWHz92j9WXK6VehlCbBP1WW9VK0XTPJJXawmH4RBAU9IRfOVmI6aut0iaSIoy0LiRaz9gBXaXRdZC3Q-0rj-uNClZxqmZT-tKIIXhbW2WUwBxPeI/s1600/Screenshot-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnivuaW2mC_TMLv1HPNxT2Tx1U61XWHz92j9WXK6VehlCbBP1WW9VK0XTPJJXawmH4RBAU9IRfOVmI6aut0iaSIoy0LiRaz9gBXaXRdZC3Q-0rj-uNClZxqmZT-tKIIXhbW2WUwBxPeI/s640/Screenshot-15.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I get up and head to my room. I'm so tired of arguing with her, she always has to be right, even when she's wrong. The little time that I am here, I spend most of my time in my room, so I should really adjust my rent so that I am only paying for the space my room occupies. Yeah, right. I wish. The only time I set foot in the other parts of the house is when I go to work or when I clean it during my assigned chore week. Maybe I should get a boyfriend and move in with him. I'm so glad that I work with Charles. He's so easygoing and kind, patient, and doesn't jump down my throat if I make a mistake.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk50LvLSkJiZKY5Qqcz4n9nKx8B2kJrCpFPCD7Xa40ak7BIqsCnXYO_k9HXeH8TU-xX-EBPzhqPMmjptR6f_44ksWLhHdwVIUM01Hfi9bbWMLZeMO_ENjuQGIVZjkFdETA44T_nJODQM/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk50LvLSkJiZKY5Qqcz4n9nKx8B2kJrCpFPCD7Xa40ak7BIqsCnXYO_k9HXeH8TU-xX-EBPzhqPMmjptR6f_44ksWLhHdwVIUM01Hfi9bbWMLZeMO_ENjuQGIVZjkFdETA44T_nJODQM/s640/Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm so sick of living here. I get filled with stress every time I come back to the house. I don't even consider it a real home, it's mostly just a place for me to sleep and keep my stuff. I always feel numb when I am here. I shut down completely and just go through the motions of eating, showering, and sleeping. Maybe I should just come home when she's asleep so I don't have to listen to her yelling at me about nothing.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
CREDITS:<br /><ul>
<li>Mod the Sims - <a href="http://www.modthesims.info/download.php?t=473128">Wake Up! Pose Pack</a> by JuBa_0oº</li>
<li>Tumblr: <a href="http://krystaboo.tumblr.com/post/48169797807">Simple Floor Poses</a> by KrystaBoo</li>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
<li>Mod the Sims - <a href="http://linna.modthesims.info/download.php?t=441143">Love Actually Pose Pack</a> by itsSSN</li>
</ul>
</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-87830827207069871182013-06-30T10:34:00.000-07:002013-06-30T10:34:04.417-07:00Chapter 33: Mystery"Hello. Silicon Shores Police Department. How may I direct your call?"<br />
<br />
"Hello. I'd like to report a car theft."<br />
<br />
"All right. Let me transfer you to Detective Balestrom."<br />
<br />
CLICK.<br />
<br />
"Hello. This is Detective Balestrom."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAp3gBUTR6ANoEQOVcYs0yy1hN-kvNEIrz0WYS7m_yGJhu7lZVW6iQKDD_NVRQz676IT1wvW3JJPq-32mj1CTbj2XGcj9jL_7XZGDLYjYq6BW6e2NDXvQ79wziw8BsB706X6-qDxAb7rg/s1360/Screenshot-239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAp3gBUTR6ANoEQOVcYs0yy1hN-kvNEIrz0WYS7m_yGJhu7lZVW6iQKDD_NVRQz676IT1wvW3JJPq-32mj1CTbj2XGcj9jL_7XZGDLYjYq6BW6e2NDXvQ79wziw8BsB706X6-qDxAb7rg/s640/Screenshot-239.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Victor? It's Dad. I need to report a car theft."<br />
<br />
"Oh, hi Dad. That's not good. Which car is it?"<br />
<br />
"Verona's."<br />
<br />
I write down the make and model of my sister's car, Lamborghini Murcielago, on a notepad.<br />
<br />
"What's the license plate?"<br />
<br />
"5XOF497."<br />
<br />
"What else can you tell me about the theft?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7_1gU8EnTb-RDAOuRs4eWxGxPxo1gxNV824wtV2z0RzYcj4llvgmYsoP23TTbIzEq1aupEyIjXMR2HJKZtjzulGnmrgSxP1oF9CV5v8cmOB-SCobeEmz3RHU2d0H6zHfJvT5PAlqYBQ/s1360/Screenshot-240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7_1gU8EnTb-RDAOuRs4eWxGxPxo1gxNV824wtV2z0RzYcj4llvgmYsoP23TTbIzEq1aupEyIjXMR2HJKZtjzulGnmrgSxP1oF9CV5v8cmOB-SCobeEmz3RHU2d0H6zHfJvT5PAlqYBQ/s640/Screenshot-240.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"It was a week ago, I think your mother has it. We got in a fight and I kicked her out. Verona went outside and saw her car was gone. I think that your mother wanted to get back at me or something, since I bought Verona that car as a birthday present. I'm reporting it as a theft because I don't want her living here anymore, and she hasn't been back to return the car, nor get any of her things. Sorry you had to find out this way, but I think I'm going to file for divorce."<br />
<br />
"No, that's okay, Dad, at least you're telling me directly, so that's still better than through the grapevine. Do you want me to arrest her when I find her?"<br />
<br />
"Yes. I'm not going to press charges after that, but I do want Verona's car back."<br />
<br />
"Okay, I'll search and see where she might be. Do you have any ideas?"<br />
<br />
"Well, she is good friends with Caroline Wessex, and she likes to go to the country club a lot."<br />
<br />
"Do you think Mom would skip town at all?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiscyZuXNEYVq-ma_KzJc02Y_IDp5x2fpP-b2Xg1-TwxSvOYIDXga3qxHqPe2Sj1ZftxrPp55n767YBc04zq3-d5gfxaD4ZAUjey0bAQEi8tMctSFTWKUwCU6H9L2b8Q8pJ3kHKykVu_pg/s1360/Screenshot-241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiscyZuXNEYVq-ma_KzJc02Y_IDp5x2fpP-b2Xg1-TwxSvOYIDXga3qxHqPe2Sj1ZftxrPp55n767YBc04zq3-d5gfxaD4ZAUjey0bAQEi8tMctSFTWKUwCU6H9L2b8Q8pJ3kHKykVu_pg/s640/Screenshot-241.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"No, I don't think she's that smart. She doesn't know how to survive on her own very well, she's always been pretty dependent on me."<br />
<br />
"All right, well, I will look into it and call you when I find her."<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Victor."<br />
<br />
"Of course, no problem, Dad."<br />
<br />
As I hang up the phone, I roll my eyes thinking of my mother. I'd always gotten along with her just fine, but I knew she was a very judgmental person. The only reason she liked me and treated me well was because what I did with my life happened to be appropriate in her eyes. Of course, when I decided to switch careers from being a doctor to a police officer, Mom wasn't happy. I never cared though, I needed to do what made me happy. I'm still married to Aphrodite, whom Mom loves. I'm not sure I understand how Aphrodite gets along with Mom so well since she's not so critical like Mom. Maybe she just has good people skills. I used to be kind of chicken when it came to Mom when I was younger, hence the fancy medical degree. I always knew in my heart I wanted to be a police officer, but I never had the courage to tell Mom that. After I saw how Mom treated Verona when she stood up to her, I didn't want to lose her love. I always felt bad for Verona, but I never stood up for her, and I think Verona kind of hates me a little for that. Dad always got angry at Mom for picking on Verona, so I can't say that Dad telling me he wanted to file for divorce was a shock to me or anything. I'm more surprised Dad put up with Mom for so long. I wonder what it was that caused the straw to break the camel's back.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJb79ecWSQfgn7S_LF2LNY55RRaxr35dDyyqC7O3p8U4lmDyI9Mp_3hr5vnaYl3XY8hAq7ICTZBAE_oRv1U4UDHPNutHoBxQCgg-HxbZA_jgk73lzPjwoLWtJV19-_wUF-LeI5VxswlQ/s1360/Screenshot-243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJb79ecWSQfgn7S_LF2LNY55RRaxr35dDyyqC7O3p8U4lmDyI9Mp_3hr5vnaYl3XY8hAq7ICTZBAE_oRv1U4UDHPNutHoBxQCgg-HxbZA_jgk73lzPjwoLWtJV19-_wUF-LeI5VxswlQ/s640/Screenshot-243.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
"Hey Absolon. Cool necklace."<br />
<br />
"Oh thanks. Titanium gave it to me the other day. Do you want to eat with me? I can make some spaghetti."<br />
<br />
"Yeah sure."<br />
<br />
Verona follows me into the kitchen, grabbing some pots and pans for me. I get some food out of the refrigerator and start cooking.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKyGjmTV5okGIzRZfhz2W3ocYpkUYx3-6n-Bkv5l1zvz-tkKKPU_BgEECAVkCoEUn9kAv7IBL6k-rAqo5Fc51vDN8Vj9OGvevwX6M35fXLl7t0dnwlmT8QEtCPZSbGwuCqncrCW1349Q/s1360/Screenshot-244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKyGjmTV5okGIzRZfhz2W3ocYpkUYx3-6n-Bkv5l1zvz-tkKKPU_BgEECAVkCoEUn9kAv7IBL6k-rAqo5Fc51vDN8Vj9OGvevwX6M35fXLl7t0dnwlmT8QEtCPZSbGwuCqncrCW1349Q/s640/Screenshot-244.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1sIpxRVc7ORygLzmuepAeV-zqFU6U0w7JgqknT4RkrC9mP5JzwDxUJJl5UmMcm7FJPORjmQaTH-XDEQl-PUqe0h9-KnXYVBZm7HI_B5RFjH8OhPc4RteQWQh7CdCX_ZKVDiMnAt8TWe4/s1360/Screenshot-245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1sIpxRVc7ORygLzmuepAeV-zqFU6U0w7JgqknT4RkrC9mP5JzwDxUJJl5UmMcm7FJPORjmQaTH-XDEQl-PUqe0h9-KnXYVBZm7HI_B5RFjH8OhPc4RteQWQh7CdCX_ZKVDiMnAt8TWe4/s640/Screenshot-245.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Absolon, what do you know about that place where Titanium and Camo live? Camo tells me all sorts of weird things that he has to do and I have to admit, I'm not okay with them."<br />
<br />
"Well, my mom was part of that place for a while. It eventually got into her head so much that her actions tore my family apart."<br />
<br />
"Wow. I am so sorry. You don't have to talk about it anymore if it bothers you."<br />
<br />
"It's all right. I've been telling Titanium about it when we hang out, I can tell you too since you're like a sister to me now. Well, my mom and dad used to always fight, and then they made up for a little while. My dad went to a therapist, and my mom went to that shelter. She made a bunch of friends there, and for a while, it appeared to be helping her. About a year and a half after she started going there, though, she started acting weird."<br />
<br />
<i>I was sitting on the couch with my dad playing a video game, when Mom came home, looking sullen like she had been every day now. She was wearing what looked like secondhand clothes, but Dad and I never said anything about it to her, even though we thought it was weird since Dad made enough money for the both of them that Mom could have bought nice clothes for herself if she desired. For some reason, though, she always came home in unfamiliar clothes that were really crappy looking. Today she was wearing a long sleeved shirt with a cheesy cat on it, and a long, unattractive skirt.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6YMIaX8ITfzbIYqbtytZbrbEzO5DxBygfIL0835pB-zql1iozlbjjtcAuM0PHOsyB5pYMLkDrhTmfzt5svh0dszKMzCk1vw8k9b3r18RehoIcoLjHVPBnjIjDHKNcjOw-Q3vwHEyb9A/s1360/Screenshot-249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6YMIaX8ITfzbIYqbtytZbrbEzO5DxBygfIL0835pB-zql1iozlbjjtcAuM0PHOsyB5pYMLkDrhTmfzt5svh0dszKMzCk1vw8k9b3r18RehoIcoLjHVPBnjIjDHKNcjOw-Q3vwHEyb9A/s640/Screenshot-249.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i><i>Mom stood there for a while, with her hand on her hip. Then she said something condescending, which she had been doing a lot lately. Neither my dad or I could explain the drastic change in her behavior because she had always been the one who was trying to get my dad and I to be friends, which we now were. We didn't understand why she wasn't happy with us.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Video games are so violent. You shouldn't be playing them, they will get into your head and corrupt your soul."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Chill out, Mom, it's just a game, a way to relieve stress, you know? I'm not going to do the things in the video game in real life."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Well, regardless of that, it's not good for you. I don't want you seeing such things."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Mom walked in front of the television and shut it off.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGqpea-tzgO9Lg22tkhrolPbHFizxYdK8gJbUUbS_5vSNxhzmqlcY9Xg-63WbYRXKkQTkTLlCos6i-mFeFz5DZRbMM83Yzsca9a8-sZ9mkzUTT7MrkF8Wjeo87CNwArcx_yBc9JdQVvw/s1360/Screenshot-279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGqpea-tzgO9Lg22tkhrolPbHFizxYdK8gJbUUbS_5vSNxhzmqlcY9Xg-63WbYRXKkQTkTLlCos6i-mFeFz5DZRbMM83Yzsca9a8-sZ9mkzUTT7MrkF8Wjeo87CNwArcx_yBc9JdQVvw/s640/Screenshot-279.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>"There. That's better. Read a book, it's healthier for you."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Dad yelled, and I sat there, rolling my eyes. This was the source of a lot of their fights now, Mom would come home after a day with her new friends, then pick on me or Dad for doing something completely normal. I tried to turn the television back on while they were fighting, so that I could at least save the game, but as soon as I got my hand close to the button, Mom stopped yelling at Dad long enough to swat my hand away from the screen.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"What the hell, Mom? I just want to save the game."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"No, Absolon. It's not worth it, you don't need to save such rubbish."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Andromeda, don't be ridiculous, just let him save the game!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"There's no point in letting him do that, he won't be playing it again anyway, so he doesn't need to save his place."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Andromeda!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Dad turned the television back on, and then held Mom so she couldn't turn it off.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W_SBI5YVJoRSw8RBZCNR8BFkVAgf-bB0pC6RayKAgwMO-k6LYOOK6oxNgKEu1U7JkJHjmpCgY5Or6bo8hJ7AUd-N1myCcLDrwuD-jZgrt_NGbjDJrPJ8PtxESSerOkR0HM4659PFt1Y/s1360/Screenshot-280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W_SBI5YVJoRSw8RBZCNR8BFkVAgf-bB0pC6RayKAgwMO-k6LYOOK6oxNgKEu1U7JkJHjmpCgY5Or6bo8hJ7AUd-N1myCcLDrwuD-jZgrt_NGbjDJrPJ8PtxESSerOkR0HM4659PFt1Y/s640/Screenshot-280.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Absolon? Save your game and then go to bed, okay?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I did as I was told, and then fell asleep to the sounds of them continuing to yell at each other.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"Anyway, Mom was completely screwed up in the head and she kept weirding out Dad and I. I really thought she'd be happy that Dad and I were getting along, but she didn't seem to care, which was especially strange since that was what she had wanted us to do for as long as I can remember."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY9mRVhq5SJAvNU28BK7TkQAoa-eg0NSVzwreYgiu99UphIIlxU02c9Tj8h5gT1M1GqPGbIUSHqWZPfxhGYneXU-RVuIQgHezRCcB49NyUykeq2eCJ6cAbFaab_Fv5Gm5oGc92iag4ZdI/s1360/Screenshot-246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY9mRVhq5SJAvNU28BK7TkQAoa-eg0NSVzwreYgiu99UphIIlxU02c9Tj8h5gT1M1GqPGbIUSHqWZPfxhGYneXU-RVuIQgHezRCcB49NyUykeq2eCJ6cAbFaab_Fv5Gm5oGc92iag4ZdI/s640/Screenshot-246.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Wow, Absolon, I'm sorry. It was those ideas the shelter taught your mom that was making her act differently?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Yeah. She was getting brainwashed."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I get up and wash our dishes and Verona follows me, with her hand over her mouth after I said the word brainwashed.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Oh no. Does that mean Titanium and Camo are getting brainwashed? We have to get them away from there."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XYvlqJLkFrmP58dSl8OiwUrCAPHwurjjkEG4V1YTUE0YASK1oEL9js5aMkFPwsLFAAYGECD8s3jubbDW18FxwnlgePXKSYRuWHvZJNpVqFiOKUEk1wnx83A_BBOoVWKnjU6fjUAWaJ4/s1360/Screenshot-248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XYvlqJLkFrmP58dSl8OiwUrCAPHwurjjkEG4V1YTUE0YASK1oEL9js5aMkFPwsLFAAYGECD8s3jubbDW18FxwnlgePXKSYRuWHvZJNpVqFiOKUEk1wnx83A_BBOoVWKnjU6fjUAWaJ4/s640/Screenshot-248.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Camo slowly opens his eyes. He feels that he's on a bed instead of the floor, hears a faint beeping sound, and notices he's in a brightly lit room. He looks around and sees Titanium on another bed, similar to his. He's wearing sweatpants and nothing else, with a tube coming out of his arm. Camo realizes he's in the clinic of The Compound. A week must have passed already, and he's glad he survived it. He's also happy to see Titanium is in the room with him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIMKck1AKjb_cetmcyORJ0J3nkHeIszgsr5lPa9y1jO940Ttnw4ixE7W039lpq9getRQ-_X4YzbsydCVqYzs2TFiAOMth0yW1X0wscKAhR2Eosac9WZ9rJhE8vQTcqNT_h4QRJeholXYY/s1360/Screenshot-273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIMKck1AKjb_cetmcyORJ0J3nkHeIszgsr5lPa9y1jO940Ttnw4ixE7W039lpq9getRQ-_X4YzbsydCVqYzs2TFiAOMth0yW1X0wscKAhR2Eosac9WZ9rJhE8vQTcqNT_h4QRJeholXYY/s640/Screenshot-273.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQph0FQkm4VGz-CPiXd2pLC2CfxYB7Bi7Oq15A4ocSG-_VPiC3YTHe3RpXgeR2kZjbmjKZXEY8BvrbQ4MiDsKMiaVXDHuVfStC95Ore0IA4s4iFYJ-ZVQM2NMH_lQDurVK9PKbyKdyYqc/s1360/Screenshot-276.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQph0FQkm4VGz-CPiXd2pLC2CfxYB7Bi7Oq15A4ocSG-_VPiC3YTHe3RpXgeR2kZjbmjKZXEY8BvrbQ4MiDsKMiaVXDHuVfStC95Ore0IA4s4iFYJ-ZVQM2NMH_lQDurVK9PKbyKdyYqc/s640/Screenshot-276.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Despite the relief Camo feels from no longer being in Isolation, he does not feel at ease in his heart. Nothing about his life is by any means okay to him anymore. Camo has never felt right in this place, even though it's the place where he grew up, the only place he's ever known. He thinks of how Verona's father treats her, and wants someone like that in his life, not someone who is constantly berating him, making him feel stupid all the time. He feels bad for Verona because he thinks of her mother and how mean she was to him, reminding him completely of the same way that he gets treated here. Camo wonders if it's possible to leave a place like this. Thinking about it more, he's never heard of anyone leaving, just coming. He's fairly certain if he just tried to leave, he'd be chased his whole life because The Leader would want him to come back. If he got caught, he'd probably be beaten again, and he knows he doesn't want that. For now, he decides that he'll just keep thinking about leaving, without mentioning it to anyone because he knows that he and Titanium are probably under close scrutiny after this incident.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGGagOJZdbum7SWvuYtLb1SDB-azOluJckobYgh0QRJRz1WiBJH1eVxou_6syZ37Au22fqVF2t8y8PRqxgKjHlq5rTRwZOWkU-AI-aMtz28PRbm0j1ywNhB62T4RiXcnRiXvAEIVHjfY/s1360/Screenshot-278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGGagOJZdbum7SWvuYtLb1SDB-azOluJckobYgh0QRJRz1WiBJH1eVxou_6syZ37Au22fqVF2t8y8PRqxgKjHlq5rTRwZOWkU-AI-aMtz28PRbm0j1ywNhB62T4RiXcnRiXvAEIVHjfY/s640/Screenshot-278.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Credits:<br /><ul>
<li><a href="http://aeoverse.blogspot.com/2012/10/combat.html" target="_blank">Aeoverse - Combat</a></li>
<li><a href="http://mrsobsposemania.wordpress.com/">Mrs. OB's SimMania!</a></li>
<li>Mod the Sims - <a href="http://www.modthesims.info/download.php?t=442566">Pillow Talk Cuddly Couple's Poses</a> by spladoum</li>
<li>Mod the Sims - <a href="http://www.modthesims.info/download.php?t=441143" target="_blank">Love Actually Pose Pack</a> by itsSSN</li>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-10675711300621843502013-06-21T10:39:00.000-07:002013-08-11T23:50:29.204-07:00Chapter 32: Assaulted<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Music Track - Play when it shows up if you want to listen. </h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Violence, FYI</h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
~ Late Knight Simmer ~</h2>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOX5qRnU05uiiVM3EsST3IG8GRK69m3OsAEHDaxvLNM1P0fTZM0gNpEn4UnvHwRB63z2QYuzJmPnSomlcHDzuHMnSS54bCJKvkeUKh95Py8cJvHOifQbwwVpQ0Lvy2-nKBbtn2-sbEG4/s1600/Screenshot-35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOX5qRnU05uiiVM3EsST3IG8GRK69m3OsAEHDaxvLNM1P0fTZM0gNpEn4UnvHwRB63z2QYuzJmPnSomlcHDzuHMnSS54bCJKvkeUKh95Py8cJvHOifQbwwVpQ0Lvy2-nKBbtn2-sbEG4/s640/Screenshot-35.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Did the Compound ever find out that you didn't have any interest in being intimate with a woman?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCVdu55s_Tzx-EMRtKZsb06jvWFBmYWp1P_rr_Vby0Yc2WNTlv4YOKmmvPHbNQpQzUKk76O28rpIhGOGv-NnR76RF-MIoFS9jmCVDls_vs0iYlWNaeGPxC5BOmULkLJSBhzhJcpkWZH0/s1600/Screenshot-34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNCVdu55s_Tzx-EMRtKZsb06jvWFBmYWp1P_rr_Vby0Yc2WNTlv4YOKmmvPHbNQpQzUKk76O28rpIhGOGv-NnR76RF-MIoFS9jmCVDls_vs0iYlWNaeGPxC5BOmULkLJSBhzhJcpkWZH0/s640/Screenshot-34.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Well... that's a hard question to answer. I was sexually assaulted by someone whom I'd least expected to be breaking the rules. To this day, I can't explain why he did it. The aftermath of that experience led to the misinterpretation of a situation that was completely innocent and was blown entirely out of proportion. They never actually asked me flat out if I preferred men over women, but I'm fairly certain that after this situation, they just assumed that I did.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Camo comes back to his and Titanium's room and sees Titanium sitting on the floor crying. He makes his way over to Titanium and stays close to him.<br />
<br />
"Titanium? It's Camo. What's the matter?"<br />
<br />
"Camo? Hug me."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxReasWHx3_DEj5bZ9dEFLZoWHAUBnY092REl5rkbcmKDT5hzZ5PZ1vuTEOI9WriWdH65fxPGYQAVIzynOmeV3cNkVxBIsYaVx5NmfWs8sQcYSvnLSVEI734RBwC9A9vq0gbU3l9iAc1w/s1600/Screenshot-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxReasWHx3_DEj5bZ9dEFLZoWHAUBnY092REl5rkbcmKDT5hzZ5PZ1vuTEOI9WriWdH65fxPGYQAVIzynOmeV3cNkVxBIsYaVx5NmfWs8sQcYSvnLSVEI734RBwC9A9vq0gbU3l9iAc1w/s640/Screenshot-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo is confused, but he fulfills Titanium's wish and hugs him. Titanium cries into Camo's shoulder, his tears soaking into Camo's tshirt. Camo is really concerned about him because he's never seen him this sad before. Camo knows nothing bad happened between he and Absolon because he knows that the last time Titanium saw Absolon was when Camo brought them to Verona's house after they got back from Egypt. Titanium seemed fine after that visit.<br />
<br />
"Camo, it was awful. Barry made me have sex with him."<br />
<br />
"What the fuck? Did you tell anyone? You know how we're not supposed to have sex anywhere else but the Intimacy Room, he'd get in trouble for it."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, but what about me? I feel like I'd get in trouble too because that's just how messed up this place is. It doesn't matter if I am right or not, the fact that I was involved in it automatically means I get in trouble too."<br />
<br />
Camo looks down sadly at Titanium and knows he's right. There's no reasoning with The Leader and it is the norm here for both parties breaking the rules to be thrown into Isolation. He's angry because Barry is going to get away with it. Suddenly he has an idea.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLSbhMlvTiC_sxE18amXW2TXRHQ9jsfXxDVBHtp0ydjZEGUt3ZTXo03vs_eDlaNnvBX766zoBIYUsW1__5iQzQKAcuK1l1YqppvYy6vE8doP2hh9IyuyjHtn92sRck4L6wZnQRaYE3TA/s1600/Screenshot-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLSbhMlvTiC_sxE18amXW2TXRHQ9jsfXxDVBHtp0ydjZEGUt3ZTXo03vs_eDlaNnvBX766zoBIYUsW1__5iQzQKAcuK1l1YqppvYy6vE8doP2hh9IyuyjHtn92sRck4L6wZnQRaYE3TA/s640/Screenshot-4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Titanium, what if I told The Leader that it happened to me? Barry would get what he deserved, and you'd get some sense of justice."<br />
<br />
"No, I don't want you to have to go in Isolation. It's horrible, Camo! They feed you once a day for a week. You have to sleep on the floor with a single thin blanket. I don't want you to do that! I care about you too much. You could die! Don't! I don't want to lose you! Justice isn't that important if I lose you in the process."<br />
<br />
Titanium freaks out and grabs Camo's shirt in a desperate plea to get him to release that idea from his mind. He hugs him tighter and cries harder.<br />
<br />
"Shh, it's okay, I won't. I just thought I'd see how important it was to you that Barry get in trouble, but it's clear to me that my well being is more important to you, so I won't do it. It's okay."<br />
<br />
Meanwhile... Barry walks past Titanium and Camo's door and sees them in an embrace. Barry grins to himself and pulls out his walkie talkie. A few minutes later, Camo's walkie talkie goes off and The Leader's voice comes over it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisedwf_Ni0lpZqGeeCU_ThesOetJ7BgHBGmfdUzGMYWAgMLLe9vEqga8d9xwfUFlFpVPvwEdDfyPGqWPwPWo292e5nEyLWRfY6NhdK2D4kS8p8DCjdfOb6FcN729xPoRdnpkLVQmjNPLI/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisedwf_Ni0lpZqGeeCU_ThesOetJ7BgHBGmfdUzGMYWAgMLLe9vEqga8d9xwfUFlFpVPvwEdDfyPGqWPwPWo292e5nEyLWRfY6NhdK2D4kS8p8DCjdfOb6FcN729xPoRdnpkLVQmjNPLI/s640/Screenshot-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo and Titanium, please come to the Announcement Desk."<br />
<br />
Camo hands Titanium a tissue so he can clean his tears off his face, and changes into a dry shirt. He looks at Titanium to make sure he's composed enough to leave their room. It probably won't be good for The Leader to see him crying. They make their way over to the Announcement Desk and are greeted with the clipboard that holds the papers for Isolation. Titanium grabs the back of Camo's shirt, and Camo gets annoyed with The Leader.<br />
<br />
"What the hell? We didn't do anything."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOpJjQJ1zkZyksjZ2iVs8L8FIQ2Ev-0mBpKhi5OT0eYIorcbAZU8bE2PbinatrjZDtOhgvlKpS4KOdp2KkpZQOV4eyp_BI_J-PuUVr1pCaM_CrXCaUuMtcFzIvmkkYhbbnGWCKVkKIqg0/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOpJjQJ1zkZyksjZ2iVs8L8FIQ2Ev-0mBpKhi5OT0eYIorcbAZU8bE2PbinatrjZDtOhgvlKpS4KOdp2KkpZQOV4eyp_BI_J-PuUVr1pCaM_CrXCaUuMtcFzIvmkkYhbbnGWCKVkKIqg0/s640/Screenshot-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Contrary to popular opinion, Camo, you did. Someone saw you and Titanium hugging each other in what looked to be an extremely intimate way. That's a big no-no. You know you're not supposed to be intimate in any place other than the Intimacy Room. However, this is more severe than just engaging in intimacy outside of the Intimacy Room. This is that plus engaging in intimate acts with someone of the same gender. You are both going to be put in Isolation with additional punishment."<br />
<br />
"Fuck you. I was comforting him. There was NO intimacy going on. I just hugged him!"<br />
<br />
"Why did he need to be comforted?"<br />
<br />
"He was sad."<br />
<br />
"He shouldn't be sad, this house is perfect and he should have everything he needs. Sign here and write down the reason for your punishment. No more questions."<br />
<br />
"Fuck you."<br />
<br />
Camo walks away from the desk, Titanium quickly following him. The Leader sighs and opens one of the desk drawers that contain a number of syringes. He calmly goes over to Camo and stabs the syringe in Camo's neck, making Camo collapse instantly. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtp3wJb_wFd11wFwcmfj5r1vvNIsoky_u3Xj5Lh-wMInyEGK3DkzmqAWpTIps936pZRcCW506JD98j59ngc5VTDGKc_2X3NdvktukJBNXimKcycsPpOSCfZEeAscgbqXZueZ40LkdR2gs/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtp3wJb_wFd11wFwcmfj5r1vvNIsoky_u3Xj5Lh-wMInyEGK3DkzmqAWpTIps936pZRcCW506JD98j59ngc5VTDGKc_2X3NdvktukJBNXimKcycsPpOSCfZEeAscgbqXZueZ40LkdR2gs/s640/Screenshot-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Titanium screams and rushes over to Camo, but The Leader swiftly pulls out another syringe and stabs Titanium in the neck as well.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3osNLWQQXinaCTPyTILAugTW0jhKnMAAokyqez4oLZn1zHWLcGIEKoD9eDq2qxqwUwRtrnAD1sr0ofc7ycwYHExjxhuzpP3vzRSxmnB1U9xOhX59mi8Gxxjv8MWyKysEUvwbes9t0ac/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3osNLWQQXinaCTPyTILAugTW0jhKnMAAokyqez4oLZn1zHWLcGIEKoD9eDq2qxqwUwRtrnAD1sr0ofc7ycwYHExjxhuzpP3vzRSxmnB1U9xOhX59mi8Gxxjv8MWyKysEUvwbes9t0ac/s640/Screenshot-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Titanium collapses onto Camo, unconscious. The Leader then picks them up one by one and throws them in Isolation.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOA8iWqbTqCgiwvVzMyN7VP12UMpsKS9R564uRSUnZU7oyRFgTPI8nUQiQ49XUOEaMexQHUhnfrS2X41QF1mUkgK0H3B8Tg8GMiRg5tzOAzcGb0FoheMv_Cib0T_k3xzzrwGoTUREDr1w/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOA8iWqbTqCgiwvVzMyN7VP12UMpsKS9R564uRSUnZU7oyRFgTPI8nUQiQ49XUOEaMexQHUhnfrS2X41QF1mUkgK0H3B8Tg8GMiRg5tzOAzcGb0FoheMv_Cib0T_k3xzzrwGoTUREDr1w/s640/Screenshot-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/nSz16ngdsG0" width="420"></iframe></div>
<br />
<div align="left">
<i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>
I will remember you<br />
Will you remember me?<br />
Don't let your life pass you by<br />
Weep not for the memories<br /><br />
I'm so tired but I can't sleep<br />
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep<br />
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word<br />
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard<br /><br />
I will remember you<br />
Will you remember me?<br />
Don't let your life pass you by<br />
Weep not for the memories<br /><br />
I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose<br />
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose<br />
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night<br />
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light<br /><br />
I will remember you<br />
Will you remember me?<br />
Don't let your life pass you by<br />
Weep not for the memories</b></span></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>~ I Will Remember You by Sarah Mclachlan ~</b></span></i></b></span></i></div>
</div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Camo opens his eyes slowly and sees a single toilet in front of him. He looks up and sees a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. He feels groggy and disoriented. He tries to get up, using the wall for support, but his knees give way and he falls over. Deciding there's really no point in standing up anyway, he sits back down on the floor and puts his head in his hands. He wonders how Titanium is doing, and hopes he's okay since Titanium has feared Isolation ever since he met him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbx0Hd9nNVYFHcRC4mofBi2Os5qlNjdbTyiLJi3w5IopGpC1Zyis-O1P5Xkcxmfg0eEAv9WhqSlxG8nEoLpHNnF9m0LYx0nfioKM9EYbFUaEiuca-Rc191U4p3f6kE7uaG4oo7a43eHfg/s1600/Screenshot-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbx0Hd9nNVYFHcRC4mofBi2Os5qlNjdbTyiLJi3w5IopGpC1Zyis-O1P5Xkcxmfg0eEAv9WhqSlxG8nEoLpHNnF9m0LYx0nfioKM9EYbFUaEiuca-Rc191U4p3f6kE7uaG4oo7a43eHfg/s640/Screenshot-10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcC2KD2ZXD88NSPu4YoDEDcgvKFUfc5oxQRsJz4nlPnLTfaFpDZ2OfFjvMKFMMGMoTmjsAcsc3bSm922Kn_di5vsh2BWNnOpx1tHuawQCtqY6a3_0vPThVUyu1BsjsgM-D1wOD1GMDv30/s1600/Screenshot-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcC2KD2ZXD88NSPu4YoDEDcgvKFUfc5oxQRsJz4nlPnLTfaFpDZ2OfFjvMKFMMGMoTmjsAcsc3bSm922Kn_di5vsh2BWNnOpx1tHuawQCtqY6a3_0vPThVUyu1BsjsgM-D1wOD1GMDv30/s640/Screenshot-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkgnonndN55lWoFQzzBwZ89XCb8foWNdIWiQZsiX64Ne9cIZiPn-I1mc9WzEqAxgTbkATE_PstJK42LQhQfn3gIwoSjdHr_jmne7bF73s3FXrkT4MQmy09ZV3RC9SXthgIJe7q3CSR6s/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkgnonndN55lWoFQzzBwZ89XCb8foWNdIWiQZsiX64Ne9cIZiPn-I1mc9WzEqAxgTbkATE_PstJK42LQhQfn3gIwoSjdHr_jmne7bF73s3FXrkT4MQmy09ZV3RC9SXthgIJe7q3CSR6s/s640/Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
BUZZ. CLICK.<br />
<br />
The door opens and Camo looks up, a strange man comes into the room. He shuts the door behind him, and pulls Camo roughly to his feet. Camo stumbles a little and glares at the man. He barely has time to react before a punch to the side of his face makes him fall down onto the cold tile. Pain radiates through his jaw line, and the man pulls him to his feet again, only to make him fall to the ground with another punch. After he pulls Camo to his feet, Camo questions his assailant.<br />
<br />
"Why are you doing this?"<br />
<br />
"Because you need to be punished. Boys should never be intimate with each other. It is wrong, and all those thoughts should be purged from your existence."<br />
<br />
"I wasn't being intimate with him."<br />
<br />
"Documentation says otherwise."<br />
<br />
Camo is about to continue arguing, but another punch sends him hurtling to the ground again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWBwVNeFgtvbNmqFewZ7UfbNMLXGTW0U1Nre2FX3uzpMa5gfP7GNTVF5505dTLRTVmj7aUYAR6JTlTPVa0mKVYZYEiK8kSam6IQwo0ggGOif0xDzQ6m6by7Bed4t6PR5xXK_gFX4klqg/s1600/Screenshot-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWBwVNeFgtvbNmqFewZ7UfbNMLXGTW0U1Nre2FX3uzpMa5gfP7GNTVF5505dTLRTVmj7aUYAR6JTlTPVa0mKVYZYEiK8kSam6IQwo0ggGOif0xDzQ6m6by7Bed4t6PR5xXK_gFX4klqg/s640/Screenshot-12.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiNovrYNJLIU_JuowdNfXbo3_FMA8Vyt43XOMCcoY4pZiXk9odawHmo0TS-MKXlqs7chpDnoc9foX0EGlVWuD-ZfpWwlMeButiPV23GiAsWC6Eh9qfQETrPg0L-Cx6hNN0NPeWaO8D1tM/s1600/Screenshot-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiNovrYNJLIU_JuowdNfXbo3_FMA8Vyt43XOMCcoY4pZiXk9odawHmo0TS-MKXlqs7chpDnoc9foX0EGlVWuD-ZfpWwlMeButiPV23GiAsWC6Eh9qfQETrPg0L-Cx6hNN0NPeWaO8D1tM/s640/Screenshot-13.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
After thirty more minutes, which seem like a lifetime to Camo, the man punches him for the last time and roughly sets a bowl of soup and a glass of water in the room before leaving.<br />
<br />
BUZZ. CLICK.<br />
<br />
Camo lays on the floor, exhausted from his beating. His face is numb and he can't seem to see straight. He closes his eyes for a few minutes. Finally when he can see again, he notices the food next to the wall.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HFKcDc_aC8493ry0XDaDFAUaUYpfOOGZwjNopEKQYU0AkrM2Ste0Z0vY7Pv-tBv6EkdLs-v1DDbLfc2b-e7rMXjkajU0gHWT4OXVc_ASN0z-0pfQjZk7zfT7NyCYgx7n52UCdS_hROA/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HFKcDc_aC8493ry0XDaDFAUaUYpfOOGZwjNopEKQYU0AkrM2Ste0Z0vY7Pv-tBv6EkdLs-v1DDbLfc2b-e7rMXjkajU0gHWT4OXVc_ASN0z-0pfQjZk7zfT7NyCYgx7n52UCdS_hROA/s640/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
He crawls over to the food and eats it slowly, wincing when the spoon touches the cut on his lip. After a few more bites, he gets used to the pain on his mouth and finishes his dinner. He decides to sip his water slowly and keep it around in case he doesn't get any more for many hours. He puts the glass of water in the corner so he doesn't tip it over and unrolls the thin blanket, curling up in it. He cries into the blanket, thinking about Verona and how he wants to see her right now, imagining him snuggling with her in her bed, and how a simple touch from her makes him feel warm inside. He thinks about Titanium and hopes that he can make it through the week. Camo's thoughts go back to Verona and he knows he has to survive no matter how bad things get because he knows that he wants to see her again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGV6j7EZp8vjzZ-x6a87wCBhUiLw8Osv0s3bQb6clsTv_hhv16HCNHm1rjstN5894YyG-Ng4KbQvyG3iJUTYGKbwr34iNrNBOS-MRBqa7VEc0bztbUZ89SQAqNHg1ZbVg410wf8w671A/s1600/Screenshot-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGV6j7EZp8vjzZ-x6a87wCBhUiLw8Osv0s3bQb6clsTv_hhv16HCNHm1rjstN5894YyG-Ng4KbQvyG3iJUTYGKbwr34iNrNBOS-MRBqa7VEc0bztbUZ89SQAqNHg1ZbVg410wf8w671A/s640/Screenshot-15.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Titanium is huddled in the corner scared out of his mind, and he thinks he is losing it. His face hurts from being beaten and he's hyperventilating.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJME7T__iA2qkMPDClZMYB0inkdtV-KIOiwMr3QQ8Sp3OMyVYeOCxRVxYsEwfJwP-EBjVvhPsUp783RPOjOUSETPHQAPEjP9gpbNL7eVokzKRS-Iq6no1PjT7IKFWvls9cy2oDiQetpM/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJME7T__iA2qkMPDClZMYB0inkdtV-KIOiwMr3QQ8Sp3OMyVYeOCxRVxYsEwfJwP-EBjVvhPsUp783RPOjOUSETPHQAPEjP9gpbNL7eVokzKRS-Iq6no1PjT7IKFWvls9cy2oDiQetpM/s640/Screenshot-22.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
He hasn't been able to think as well as Camo has, and he's finished his water as well as his soup. He starts coughing because he's hyperventilating and his throat is dry. He hopes Camo is okay, but he's afraid Camo is having it worse than him because Camo mouthed off to The Leader.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdrrVMyuGl0L4OiZ5eN-HEIS9J7293pvay_AfmKzU_Ibj9jxNOzlD7SK39KH6WXimmGf_PzvWZwqHSPdz3kve9Fh2AGqafDxZV4GNm0OFmjabgQbZ2qJ5OyVFJW81oPgDROSvQbsRNzw/s1600/Screenshot-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdrrVMyuGl0L4OiZ5eN-HEIS9J7293pvay_AfmKzU_Ibj9jxNOzlD7SK39KH6WXimmGf_PzvWZwqHSPdz3kve9Fh2AGqafDxZV4GNm0OFmjabgQbZ2qJ5OyVFJW81oPgDROSvQbsRNzw/s640/Screenshot-21.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
No matter what he does, he can't stop the tears from coming down, and unfortunately he starts thinking about what Barry did to him. He thinks it's so unfair that Barry didn't get in trouble and he did. Why did Barry even do that to him? He thought Barry was someone who followed every rule with no exception. He was just in the library, reading a book while Camo was visiting Verona. Barry came over and said hi, so he talked to him. All of a sudden, Barry pushed him against the bookcase and told him to shut up.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-s75bWCJb8KgIIxHjVkKmHWdpkuJcyyp1SBvRzOsNd-9LBMyFP_P6zFcdJ30kv0N9YfjxHh0HUyRSTak_H8qrfeltRpqDJXOvsRD0zLs5OwLVQL5bX3YYDP-Q-kRBrQNM4fpJLPX86-0/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-s75bWCJb8KgIIxHjVkKmHWdpkuJcyyp1SBvRzOsNd-9LBMyFP_P6zFcdJ30kv0N9YfjxHh0HUyRSTak_H8qrfeltRpqDJXOvsRD0zLs5OwLVQL5bX3YYDP-Q-kRBrQNM4fpJLPX86-0/s640/Screenshot-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Then Barry tried to kiss him. Titanium pushed him away and tried to leave, but Barry grabbed his shirt and removed his pants, touching him where he was uncomfortable. Barry made Titanium bend over, draping him over the chair he had been sitting on. Then Barry pushed inside him, groping the front of him the entire time with one hand, while grabbing his hair harshly with his other hand. At first Titanium struggled, but it hurt to do that, so he decided he had to stop squirming so he wouldn't hurt himself more than Barry was already hurting him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklaLQh80w38rxxEHKpANG6Qi3894N-0cWGpLTIJkO-df-45b06QsubiPouiZvccpBlfnz4ytZV_2GCNtnEWalJyusFdrM6WJjAVNTOesokw2ZfJLK9dheI0-BoNHDstM8hFDJYQV77_A/s1600/Screenshot-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklaLQh80w38rxxEHKpANG6Qi3894N-0cWGpLTIJkO-df-45b06QsubiPouiZvccpBlfnz4ytZV_2GCNtnEWalJyusFdrM6WJjAVNTOesokw2ZfJLK9dheI0-BoNHDstM8hFDJYQV77_A/s640/Screenshot-23.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Titanium crawls into the blanket and hugs himself. He wishes he'd had sex with Absolon first, and then he gets angry because Barry took that chance away from him. He gets scared that he might not make it through the week if he gets beat up again. He's never felt as strong as Camo, mentally or physically. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep because he's tired of crying. As he drifts off to sleep, he thinks of Absolon's pink eyes and how they sparkle when he looks at him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdDo2XHAgxpgq4faK1AeFovZbfmxs1uwzBbI-BfrDyRPCuT_cFX2wXXWF2FW9wNmW1tuhBNcGS6IQ27flz7p4Id2Sw1GPEiSVe_WwSD_jrfS8QKslDnZMeUpGO5XbHbCPXu2478GK1XY/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdDo2XHAgxpgq4faK1AeFovZbfmxs1uwzBbI-BfrDyRPCuT_cFX2wXXWF2FW9wNmW1tuhBNcGS6IQ27flz7p4Id2Sw1GPEiSVe_WwSD_jrfS8QKslDnZMeUpGO5XbHbCPXu2478GK1XY/s640/Screenshot-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
CREDIT:<br /><ul>
<li>OH My Sims - <a href="http://blog.yam.com/happyme77/article/39276329">Fighting pose</a></li>
<li><a href="http://zhippidyposes.blogspot.com/">Zhippidy's Custom Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
<li><a href="http://afterdusksims.blogspot.com/">AfterDusk Sims</a> </li>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-76657020546913946532013-06-06T19:46:00.001-07:002021-03-22T00:20:49.167-07:00Chapter 31: Wrong"Absolon? Absolon?"<br />
<br />
Jeez, Mom just insulted the shit out of Absolon, and I think he's still stunned from the words. He sinks down onto my bed and covers his face like he's ashamed. I hope he's not, since he has nothing to be ashamed about. Dad is standing in the same place he was, probably also stunned from what he just did. I'm just glad Mom is gone. We hear the gate open, and a screech of tires as Mom peels out of the house. I never thought Mom would ever drive like that. Dad finally snaps out of his trance as the gate shuts. Maybe he was just waiting for confirmation that Mom actually left. He walks over to Absolon and sits next to him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV5gIqd4BKPRk3ptgIxE3Pdw3ul1HlVHAc8Q0msQ8zhSSRTQbBTSjHWhVTnnF515O0WGGHmsfp-dtqdTBPSCyO4HthG2zurq83ad9sMnz1H8DHL9rUisLJwSdBXkakgwjDVrnLLqbyh0/s1600/Screenshot-245.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV5gIqd4BKPRk3ptgIxE3Pdw3ul1HlVHAc8Q0msQ8zhSSRTQbBTSjHWhVTnnF515O0WGGHmsfp-dtqdTBPSCyO4HthG2zurq83ad9sMnz1H8DHL9rUisLJwSdBXkakgwjDVrnLLqbyh0/s640/Screenshot-245.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSurra-g7LFiGzHUjd40ga2V-iO1AXhkdBK29pyqpiIljZWcDfhtHUizyPELZRzhEQyeMXm7Qyi3MEedIywsjxrb8c9Rz7B4SWlpRNhnbDkOUt_qz0xi6_5LsJNJ8Lud0Zp2PJXhNlQ_E/s1600/Screenshot-246.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSurra-g7LFiGzHUjd40ga2V-iO1AXhkdBK29pyqpiIljZWcDfhtHUizyPELZRzhEQyeMXm7Qyi3MEedIywsjxrb8c9Rz7B4SWlpRNhnbDkOUt_qz0xi6_5LsJNJ8Lud0Zp2PJXhNlQ_E/s640/Screenshot-246.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Hi, Charles. Thanks for standing up for me, I know I'm not your responsibility or anything. You didn't have to do that."<br />
<br />
"No, I did. She is crazy, and I took you in. I want you to feel comfortable living here."<br />
<br />
"I've never had anyone talk to me like that before. No one knew what my preferences were except Verona and Camo. Not even my parents."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVhHt3fkoUtkmjPNjUEPf0rKdWaR-YbCmw1VQvgO42xAc-o_lASiQE1ogLVQIxF8FCjPHYRJ1vp9HSgPms4M6E9RZIAw1SR3X6j57Kqu2Fsf_FJ2sbd6MO9qhKN7bwr7YDLe_AU9qgCg/s1600/Screenshot-247.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVhHt3fkoUtkmjPNjUEPf0rKdWaR-YbCmw1VQvgO42xAc-o_lASiQE1ogLVQIxF8FCjPHYRJ1vp9HSgPms4M6E9RZIAw1SR3X6j57Kqu2Fsf_FJ2sbd6MO9qhKN7bwr7YDLe_AU9qgCg/s640/Screenshot-247.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Well you are lucky then, lots of people get bullied their whole lives because of their preferences. I'm sorry Kalya was so mean to you. Are you all right?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know. I think I am, but I'm still a little shocked, like I feel like I did something wrong by existing."<br />
<br />
"No. You did nothing. You are fine just the way you are."<br />
<br />
RING-RING!<br />
<br />
The intercom sounds, and I volunteer to answer it so Daddy can continue to comfort Absolon. I'm super excited that it is Camo, who has been back from Egypt for a day now, but didn't want to come over right after getting home so as not to raise suspicion. I'm even more excited that he brought Titanium as well because he wanted to see Absolon. Perfect timing, now that Mom is gone, and Absolon needs some comforting. I practically run Camo over when he comes in the front door.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgii3kNZfvvpLzup8q50efTAiqlmsc0DIlaskiw2_JQpIRcQBw8IhfiNVp5ZFGdBjhbqoQqxLrngcD-0PEFLAFVV3UHqM7qmVindNZlxICd6mpeMxx0C-t8kxb9HKMjuezR64PkvaARzXE/s1600/Screenshot-248.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgii3kNZfvvpLzup8q50efTAiqlmsc0DIlaskiw2_JQpIRcQBw8IhfiNVp5ZFGdBjhbqoQqxLrngcD-0PEFLAFVV3UHqM7qmVindNZlxICd6mpeMxx0C-t8kxb9HKMjuezR64PkvaARzXE/s640/Screenshot-248.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo, it's been horrible."<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"Mom. She's been horrible. Dad just kicked her out, but not before she insulted Absolon. Titanium, you should go into my room, the first door on the left. Absolon needs you."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I feel like I've been kicked. I don't know how that conversation between Kalya and I went downhill so fast. One moment I was sticking up for Verona telling her mother that we weren't involved, and the next moment I was being treated like a dirty sock. Questionable lifestyle? Inappropriate? I'm not inappropriate! My lifestyle is not questionable! I am not dirty! I feel dirty, though, but I know I shouldn't. I know I didn't do anything wrong, so why do I feel out of sorts? I look up and see Titanium standing there. He's got concern written all over his face, so Verona must have clued him in that I needed him. Charles looks at me, then to Titanium, and then gets up, leaving us alone. That man has the intuition of a god, sometimes I think he's psychic.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkuPXX_mbT0Ba7gq44Xwgejh8gKHBgdWLlnq2TOpqylGTuMnNC44kzTvuZJLHXAn_ZZ6manSOvJWwpvlWjAS-w8fC_k1gZhB5Qn-haVk7EHZYJsB3ukD4qHCyxXghjszUTWyB3tEp5RA/s1600/Screenshot-249.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkuPXX_mbT0Ba7gq44Xwgejh8gKHBgdWLlnq2TOpqylGTuMnNC44kzTvuZJLHXAn_ZZ6manSOvJWwpvlWjAS-w8fC_k1gZhB5Qn-haVk7EHZYJsB3ukD4qHCyxXghjszUTWyB3tEp5RA/s640/Screenshot-249.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Absolon? What happened?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, Verona's mom just told me that I lead an inappropriate, questionable lifestyle because I like boys. My insides hurt. Is there something wrong with me?"<br />
<br />
"No, of course not. Why do you think she said that?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know. I- never- no one's ever told me that liking boys was wrong. I wasn't very close to either of my parents, so I never told them I liked boys. I guess, boys are supposed to like girls, and that's the only way it is? I don't know."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIRdEZcZAAmA9SJ8-rQ6LAdT8HI9Pv2nFlIL0ijxyv-KxCUrHmuSxjvILCLzPHtcuEFXHsvMHERu2XpV79P7c5DoRueNsRRfqp8ZkXEC-6FPiF71D-oUmpLHrE7RTEguiipWeVNpng80/s1600/Screenshot-250.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIRdEZcZAAmA9SJ8-rQ6LAdT8HI9Pv2nFlIL0ijxyv-KxCUrHmuSxjvILCLzPHtcuEFXHsvMHERu2XpV79P7c5DoRueNsRRfqp8ZkXEC-6FPiF71D-oUmpLHrE7RTEguiipWeVNpng80/s640/Screenshot-250.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Titanium looks down at the bed, or my leg, I don't know which, with his pretty blue eyes.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Well, I get told liking anyone, boy or girl, is wrong. You know."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Yeah, that's true. I feel right when I'm with you though, like everything is good in the world. You make me happy."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"That's good. You make me happy too. I feel like The Compound is wrong to tell me that liking someone is a bad thing, so maybe Verona's mom was wrong, and we're fine."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
He looks so sad, and suddenly I've forgotten how shitty I felt earlier because I want to make Titanium feel better. I'm glad that he has come to the realization that the way The Compound views relationships is messed up, but I'm annoyed that it's made him sad.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Yeah, maybe. How was your trip?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZOgAbYAXkJsix_7QQCx_gLy3fgy5L_tMlbUEU8ZZHLu8xHu74lJTIVmeyfieiq4ubTwUS58osgKCjZUuCR5OzLaFtop0QcOIX7r0bitBvP_YbnOC9ji8pBieA-mYoeLwJBM1uXgT7K10/s1600/Screenshot-251.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZOgAbYAXkJsix_7QQCx_gLy3fgy5L_tMlbUEU8ZZHLu8xHu74lJTIVmeyfieiq4ubTwUS58osgKCjZUuCR5OzLaFtop0QcOIX7r0bitBvP_YbnOC9ji8pBieA-mYoeLwJBM1uXgT7K10/s640/Screenshot-251.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"It was okay, I guess. There were a lot of meetings I had to go to, but there was one day we had free. Camo and I went to the store, and I bought this for you."</div>
<br />
He hands me a small box, and I open it to find a necklace that has a pyramid charm attached.<br />
<br />
"I thought you might like a necklace since you wear one all the time."<br />
<br />
"Thanks! I do like it."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I'm glad Kalya's gone. I feel weird though since she's been with me for so long. It makes me mad that she was just pretending to be okay with Absolon, and then went and said such horrible things about him. I don't even know if anything I said to Absolon made him feel better. I'm so hungry right now. I guess in my annoyance with everything, I forgot to eat. Luckily, there's some leftover sushi in the fridge. Hopefully, I won't have to deal with her any longer. I told her I wanted a trial separation, but I think I just want her to be gone. I know it would be better for Verona if Kalya was permanently out of her life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzBpvSNky0sLB1Mta4wwO2G_qcVu5OWa6XgLwqpBuVGMEKQ5j22QDR6rkSnPZifmULufRrKhGBAY5s6EaakJkyDviJPpJI1zvy6DYiw2vukpWRdfXgM6WpE1WGqCPd28XVQnxbkRhWwM/s1600/Screenshot-252.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzBpvSNky0sLB1Mta4wwO2G_qcVu5OWa6XgLwqpBuVGMEKQ5j22QDR6rkSnPZifmULufRrKhGBAY5s6EaakJkyDviJPpJI1zvy6DYiw2vukpWRdfXgM6WpE1WGqCPd28XVQnxbkRhWwM/s640/Screenshot-252.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Dad? Is Mom gone for good? Like are you letting her back in the house, ever?"<br />
<br />
"No, I don't want her living here anymore."<br />
<br />
"Oh. Well, then I think it's safe to say she stole my car."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5jXTq23m-xSsjJy_gZSIFwYZEB12votv7xtjC6k7EgRqgzoLF7EIOKiNjVa7ZZTiN-Ob0z7Yv1aQwSeNXj3mmurvEeRB_N7M-2M7orFez3V119eO86K8ML_b7BJ5T4ct11Cu1VmPKxA/s1600/Screenshot-253.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5jXTq23m-xSsjJy_gZSIFwYZEB12votv7xtjC6k7EgRqgzoLF7EIOKiNjVa7ZZTiN-Ob0z7Yv1aQwSeNXj3mmurvEeRB_N7M-2M7orFez3V119eO86K8ML_b7BJ5T4ct11Cu1VmPKxA/s640/Screenshot-253.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
CREDITS:<ul>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://zhippidyposes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Zhippidy's Custom Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Mod the Sims - <a href="http://www.modthesims.info/download.php?t=442566" target="_blank">Pillow Talk Cuddly Couple's Poses</a> by spladoum</li>
</ul>
</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-20791728323023981452013-05-29T10:54:00.000-07:002013-05-29T10:54:48.299-07:00Chapter 30: PowerThings have been weird since Mom and Dad had the big blowout a few weeks ago. They barely speak to each other. Dad avoids Mom for the most part, I think he's even continued sleeping in a different room since that night. Everything else is normal, though, Dad goes to work and comes home, talks to me, and then disappears when Mom comes by. Mom just wanders around the house looking like she's up to something. She's so creepy and cold. Dad brought Joliana, his co-worker, to our house today. I know her because I've worked with her too. Joliana's been over to our house before a few years ago when I was in high school, and I know Mom doesn't like it even though her and Dad are completely platonic.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGVmsQYAeLdpozPjwKBQid5s1rUakuT1ZBNEazuPUprXf4h3GAhPzBs401hgXvrx42nwkLOidvTD5xTJDglvU2l32e2pGLHioq0gPk-2MU-D4ptidJTItfHfS2v3WbTMQbxI6yqigBgQ/s1600/Screenshot-148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGVmsQYAeLdpozPjwKBQid5s1rUakuT1ZBNEazuPUprXf4h3GAhPzBs401hgXvrx42nwkLOidvTD5xTJDglvU2l32e2pGLHioq0gPk-2MU-D4ptidJTItfHfS2v3WbTMQbxI6yqigBgQ/s640/Screenshot-148.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I wonder if Dad likes Joliana, but I know he'd never do anything with her as long as he's still married to Mom. I kind of wish somehow Mom and Dad would break up, but that's such a horrible thought. I wonder if Absolon's home. He's been dating Titanium, so he's often out with him. I wonder how Mom would react to that, boys dating each other. She hasn't been very cold to Absolon since he's not interested in me. She's so ridiculous, so mean to guys I date, but completely okay with him. I'm glad she's not picking on him, but she has all these hypocritical double standards that I don't understand. She listened to Dad about being nice to Absolon, so why couldn't she listen to Dad about being nice to Camo?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Messaging Log:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Absolon Marseilles <830-555-4364></b></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Absolon, are you at home?</b> <span style="font-size: x-small;">5:24pm</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Yeah, in my room.</b> <span style="font-size: x-small;">5:24pm</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Good, I think to myself. I could really use a friend right now. I haven't seen Camo for a few days and I miss him like crazy. I'm just about to go upstairs, but before I can exit my room, I hear Mom and Dad arguing.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlwQzNICv39BqPqzn_KvOjc7hnVnG4tgYfmcvnboapT_efqp4MQaMqhrGEnjsLV-t__ARx_q0IyU893T36AOlE_ohE-_UeBpECpb3EMm-4yPPk8NtjXdHiL4KBKl60FPsQSlJGKwRkBY/s1600/Screenshot-147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlwQzNICv39BqPqzn_KvOjc7hnVnG4tgYfmcvnboapT_efqp4MQaMqhrGEnjsLV-t__ARx_q0IyU893T36AOlE_ohE-_UeBpECpb3EMm-4yPPk8NtjXdHiL4KBKl60FPsQSlJGKwRkBY/s640/Screenshot-147.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"What the hell is she doing here <b>again</b>?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Chill out, Kalya, she's helping me with work. What do you mean, again? She hasn't been here for a long time."<br />
<br />
"I mean again because she's been here before. Seriously, you are so dense sometimes, Charles."<br />
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Oh so now I'm stupid? Leave me alone, Kalya, if you're not going to talk to me about our actual problem."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0G0r4DkJp0T8NBSLLkiVRkEmspuA_g1IxGo2r5xuxO3Drc8iOPKIoWFNGuVmLjeDHMV35WUUbS_E-ndYmuLWXq4zk5OfDjFMcgk95qPKvNZAFFKmJ46HvFvryVp5jjpgxB8fWLxk-Dx4/s1600/Screenshot-150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0G0r4DkJp0T8NBSLLkiVRkEmspuA_g1IxGo2r5xuxO3Drc8iOPKIoWFNGuVmLjeDHMV35WUUbS_E-ndYmuLWXq4zk5OfDjFMcgk95qPKvNZAFFKmJ46HvFvryVp5jjpgxB8fWLxk-Dx4/s640/Screenshot-150.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"You mean Verona? Yeah, until Verona stops sleeping around like a common prostitute, I'm not going to acknowledge her boyfriend choices as legitimate."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"She is NOT sleeping around! Ugh, Kalya. Joliana and I have work to finish."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Work as in flirting with each other."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6PUjd_dBSshivGl-e6Np-8G9GBsh0xXU5fS6S5g3UmSFHdKnrVcLXrhUaCRYU8PoJbzAO1oVmBLuTwZU3PCJeFFP2_CkI8mX5LxgETDlRt4EZhyphenhyphenTnwCIKJ0ktU9SUf5npnzZZb8VML8/s1600/Screenshot-151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6PUjd_dBSshivGl-e6Np-8G9GBsh0xXU5fS6S5g3UmSFHdKnrVcLXrhUaCRYU8PoJbzAO1oVmBLuTwZU3PCJeFFP2_CkI8mX5LxgETDlRt4EZhyphenhyphenTnwCIKJ0ktU9SUf5npnzZZb8VML8/s640/Screenshot-151.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I have never flirted with her. You should know, you are always spying on me."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I have to or you'll flirt with her."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"ARGH! Kalya! You don't trust me! I'm done with this stupid conversation. I have work to do."</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I pull out my cell phone and text Absolon again because I want to talk to him but I don't want to run into Mom. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Messaging Log:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Absolon Marseilles <830-555-4364></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Ugh, they're fighting again.</b><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">5:27pm</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Sorry. Do you want me to come down? </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">5:28pm</span></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Please, would you? </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">5:28pm</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>LOL, yeah, it's no problem, Verona. </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">5:29pm</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's not long before Absolon knocks on the door and comes in. I'm relieved to see him and even more relieved that Mom didn't stop to talk to him. I smile at him and then continue pouting.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"What's up, Verona?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I miss Camo a lot and I'm exhausted from all the tension that's going on in the house."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"They were really going at it just now. She's accusing him of cheating."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I roll my eyes and bury my face in the pillow. Absolon comes over and lays on my bed, rubbing my back.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBT2GejZykOEp3wJrGP4JkAsSY4Fan5QNll7d0V-WTCUNw5870EbvaqevfhbAh3jf16fsZNx6ci2HXhc7xc__5_JR54eIHDUtyTr2dQ2w8SsTryZ6kLuxp7b-wHwkrkUOsB1qaSA7Iztk/s1600/Screenshot-149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBT2GejZykOEp3wJrGP4JkAsSY4Fan5QNll7d0V-WTCUNw5870EbvaqevfhbAh3jf16fsZNx6ci2HXhc7xc__5_JR54eIHDUtyTr2dQ2w8SsTryZ6kLuxp7b-wHwkrkUOsB1qaSA7Iztk/s640/Screenshot-149.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"That's dumb. Your dad wouldn't do that."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I know, right? He's been friends with Joliana for years, and every time she's over here, she acts like a complete lady. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Do you know why Camo hasn't been at work?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Yeah, he and Titanium went to Egypt."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Ugh, I wish I was with him. This is stupid. Is it mean of me to wish that Dad would kick Mom out?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"No. Things fall apart sometimes. It's not like he hasn't tried."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I hear the door open and don't care to look up to see who is there because I don't want to talk to anyone but Absolon right now.<br />
<br />
"Well, well, what do we have here, Verona? Cheating on your so-called boyfriend already? He was just here a few days ago."<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, I have to get up because Mother is picking on me again. Ever since that night I punched her she has been on the warpath, like she has a personal vendetta against me. I think she needs a chill pill. No big surprise, she has a condescending tone to her voice.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAM3XryfBosJ90wj7DPGL3HCB70VboS2YBDC0nkGj3yWBjYBnZFvpMKDBHS-O01dQUksAd0W0RoK5mMZjw7NHpvoZ0B5Jup0jKzCi8Oi79a5QeOwRYQGoo7C_uatP7aUDyetSg1Iyd27I/s1600/Screenshot-178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAM3XryfBosJ90wj7DPGL3HCB70VboS2YBDC0nkGj3yWBjYBnZFvpMKDBHS-O01dQUksAd0W0RoK5mMZjw7NHpvoZ0B5Jup0jKzCi8Oi79a5QeOwRYQGoo7C_uatP7aUDyetSg1Iyd27I/s640/Screenshot-178.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
"I'm not doing anything with Absolon, MOM! He's comforting me because I'm sad. Can't you see? I'm wiping my eyes because I've been CRYING?!"<br />
<br />
"Comforting. Uh huh, sure, more like comfort by lust. You should be ashamed of yourself. I have half a mind to tell your boyfriend the next time he comes over how you cavort around when he's not here. Now I know the real reason you wanted us to take Absolon in. You wanted a boy toy."<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't know what it is, but the stress of everything that's been going on and the fact that Mom just threatened to tell Camo mean things about me makes me start crying again. I bury my face into my pillow again, wishing I could just disappear. Then I hear Absolon talk to Mom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Mrs. Balestrom, Verona and I are not involved, I can assure you."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Oh? Why should I trust you? You're a former nomad."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I'm not interested in her."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Why? She's a perfectly beautiful girl. What's wrong with her?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Nothing, Mrs. Balestrom, I'm just not attracted to her."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Why? Do you not like brunettes?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Uh, no, that's not it."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Then what? You prefer men?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Absolon stops talking and I get up because Mom has crossed the line, yet again. Absolon's personal life and preferences are none of her business.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWM0O3PCwFv15Ni5_hVsL_gd1dCpUQRVvEqZhcn6efOXg5l6WLe12B09s6ccgn567aLJvOrUny_GmiR0xoZgre4g0tZAd-MCMIa5CkEkOFFZExk0rhevynTkr6iXgTUJE4OL9Q9hu0vik/s1600/Screenshot-179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWM0O3PCwFv15Ni5_hVsL_gd1dCpUQRVvEqZhcn6efOXg5l6WLe12B09s6ccgn567aLJvOrUny_GmiR0xoZgre4g0tZAd-MCMIa5CkEkOFFZExk0rhevynTkr6iXgTUJE4OL9Q9hu0vik/s640/Screenshot-179.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
"Mom, will you stop?!"<br />
<br />
"Stop what, Verona?"<br />
<br />
"Embarrassing everyone?"<br />
<br />
"Nonsense, Absolon shouldn't be embarrassed that he's a homosexual. Are you, Absolon?"<br />
<br />
"Mom! That's not what I meant! You are slapping a label on him that is unnecessary! People shouldn't be labelled!"<br />
<br />
"It's unnatural to be attracted to a man when you are a man! It's inappropriate."<br />
<br />
"Absolon is NOT inappropriate! His life choices are just that, HIS! They are NOT something you have any right to judge! Get out of my room! I should have kicked you out of here earlier!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjcTXdPM7CULe7gkH5EAlPCLlFXAvsda8UWRCydI3tzhqoRLgbVFa93dBXJDdJ3C9gC9UJQ0nWUaVGz6L9pBKMCqaPEKmHN_V54k-5ZoucF1bPqz6m1oN23_WkINiyWYCXrNWeLjlKqY/s1600/Screenshot-181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjcTXdPM7CULe7gkH5EAlPCLlFXAvsda8UWRCydI3tzhqoRLgbVFa93dBXJDdJ3C9gC9UJQ0nWUaVGz6L9pBKMCqaPEKmHN_V54k-5ZoucF1bPqz6m1oN23_WkINiyWYCXrNWeLjlKqY/s640/Screenshot-181.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"You can't talk to me like that. I'm your mother."<br />
<br />
"Well you can't tell me to go to my room because I'm already in it!"<br />
<br />
"I have every right to come and go as I please, Verona."<br />
<br />
"Mom this conversation is pointless, what are we even talking about anymore?"
<br />
<br />
"We are talking about the fact that you are a slut and you make friends with people who have questionable lifestyles. You should be with Marcus because you need to be disciplined. Running around like this is unacceptable. I'm ashamed that your last name is Balestrom. You aren't worthy of that surname."<br />
<br />
I snicker under my breath because Dad has just walked in. Mom's going to get it now.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I just let Joliana out of the house and see Kalya in Verona's room, torturing her yet again. Verona's yelling at her about something mean she said to Absolon and Kalya is looking smug. I hate her high and mighty attitude. Kalya says she wants Marcus to teach her discipline? No way. I need to intervene. Wait, did she just say what I think she said? She said Verona isn't worthy of her surname? My surname? It's not even Kalya's name to abuse! She married me, and it is MY last name. That's it. I've had it with Kalya.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"If there is anyone who isn't worthy of the Balestrom name, it is you."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
"What? Charles, don't be ridiculous. Where is your mistress?"<br />
<br />
"You can't talk to Verona and Absolon like that. I don't have a mistress. How many times do I have to tell you that? Are you deaf? Get out of my house."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaabaytKDdizlDXv3XlyFirNHqpMTBA3YoZJiuB4M2vkhBmVb4k6H-IP67ZjGOd5VkhTeIQ_82odN_839Mv5bpsgJg7Zkf891rcwHYjxyibBt0Op4TNUg-AT57LJ-u-4SEyPS4p4iiNzI/s1600/Screenshot-182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaabaytKDdizlDXv3XlyFirNHqpMTBA3YoZJiuB4M2vkhBmVb4k6H-IP67ZjGOd5VkhTeIQ_82odN_839Mv5bpsgJg7Zkf891rcwHYjxyibBt0Op4TNUg-AT57LJ-u-4SEyPS4p4iiNzI/s640/Screenshot-182.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Well, I never! Are you saying you want a divorce?"<br />
<br />
"Stop stalling. Get the fuck out of my house. That's what I'm saying."<br />
<br />
"Why do you care about Absolon? He's not your son."<br />
<br />
"I decided to take him in. I'm going to treat him like family. GET OUT."<br />
<br />
"What does this mean for us?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcr23rTxUq2ToR-eAeLw2pvm0JqRLKV3zpg3tyOXOAeLkLIPnwKEQSOJLuNv4UbdaLF_vBCl8-g9uNpog46qhpwNst9hA9R-gR0HlDNGgz_ab6rliTo1SXMSmnPktZ8L6j5q9uZrsgvCg/s1600/Screenshot-183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcr23rTxUq2ToR-eAeLw2pvm0JqRLKV3zpg3tyOXOAeLkLIPnwKEQSOJLuNv4UbdaLF_vBCl8-g9uNpog46qhpwNst9hA9R-gR0HlDNGgz_ab6rliTo1SXMSmnPktZ8L6j5q9uZrsgvCg/s640/Screenshot-183.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>What does this mean for us? </i>Well, I hate how she's dragging my name through the mud with her rude behavior and then accusing Verona of being the one who is causing trouble. <i>She is so annoyingly stubborn.</i> She wants to continue to be my wife and have a powerful name with a fancy house? She's going to have to stop being so pig-headed. I can't stand her. These past few weeks she's either been ignoring me, or picking fights with me. She's driving me crazy. I've decided that she needs to leave for a while. She keeps taking things for granted. I'm going to make her see that her life could fall apart very quickly.<br />
<br />
"Trial separation. Get the fuck out."<br />
<br />
"Where will I go?"<br />
<br />
"That is not my problem."<br />
<br />
"Charles, I'm sorry. We can fix this."<br />
<br />
"That may be, but for now, you need to get out."LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-40318315835324925452013-05-18T21:35:00.000-07:002013-05-18T21:35:21.058-07:00Chapter 29: Awakening<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">
NOTE:</span> I downloaded some new default skins and eyes for my Sims. They will look different in the pictures, they still have the same eye colors they always did though, just FYI.</h2>
<h2>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
~ Late Knight Simmer ~<br />
<br /></div>
</h2>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiExHM6GN-m6rIBUF0daoFLx0JT4iTKcNTepLMJd6_gjZvnPddUXntYRdxcE0Hlmj06_r0098sRcqB-tOgzfi9PulK6DjpGWabymzyV_y69suLO79RZ3Rk6r1LlCC7ut6Kbg_w8kDvyElU/s1600/Screenshot-553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiExHM6GN-m6rIBUF0daoFLx0JT4iTKcNTepLMJd6_gjZvnPddUXntYRdxcE0Hlmj06_r0098sRcqB-tOgzfi9PulK6DjpGWabymzyV_y69suLO79RZ3Rk6r1LlCC7ut6Kbg_w8kDvyElU/s640/Screenshot-553.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCI5XQKqaHj3IWAJn7erUj1yWfUc5YK5Q9FC65jk5o-mGvCmouQkmluYPZCoovW18Y-6lVaRKgySCZ7J6M-JBM1CMSg_2ChkAgABWqP5JFWsMAu9FRQU_I9sExsHne7E3QWi0ev6LkcXY/s1600/Screenshot-557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCI5XQKqaHj3IWAJn7erUj1yWfUc5YK5Q9FC65jk5o-mGvCmouQkmluYPZCoovW18Y-6lVaRKgySCZ7J6M-JBM1CMSg_2ChkAgABWqP5JFWsMAu9FRQU_I9sExsHne7E3QWi0ev6LkcXY/s640/Screenshot-557.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo is shocked and a little turned on by Verona's sudden outburst of violence. His face still stings and he can't believe he just got slapped. He doesn't think he did anything wrong.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQ9K2sPLtJ9phSEN0LBra_4Yph31LSLl3dbJ3biNsVBB42diMUx6e-uHiCy2HMRmETWsAIO6txOuwvF16CIdLB6d8V7ObKz-PII7jmwvDJK44-tts4MV2nHCmhvwBEsruEqiI0AIEwFo/s1600/Screenshot-554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQ9K2sPLtJ9phSEN0LBra_4Yph31LSLl3dbJ3biNsVBB42diMUx6e-uHiCy2HMRmETWsAIO6txOuwvF16CIdLB6d8V7ObKz-PII7jmwvDJK44-tts4MV2nHCmhvwBEsruEqiI0AIEwFo/s640/Screenshot-554.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Verona's mother is on the floor still stunned by the punch. Charles makes his way to the other side of Verona's mother, looking incredibly angry. Camo takes Verona's hand and goes into the kitchen with her to get her some food.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7EmB4w5S1U0sOmxVe8IJrN7zziV6LcgIOD51q_HAadm7QNG5kZTLtoQ_VgyHahGzqTrNxj0t5ivew5_dz2cERHon7PVzdcAiDkJxG1NWpnY-IiE5Xw6CEYt34J79hZcVi7_FEs_Z8W4/s1600/Screenshot-560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7EmB4w5S1U0sOmxVe8IJrN7zziV6LcgIOD51q_HAadm7QNG5kZTLtoQ_VgyHahGzqTrNxj0t5ivew5_dz2cERHon7PVzdcAiDkJxG1NWpnY-IiE5Xw6CEYt34J79hZcVi7_FEs_Z8W4/s640/Screenshot-560.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I'm going to give you one chance to tell me the truth of what happened and why Verona punched you. One chance, Kalya. I'm fucking serious."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsEyET2nLhXXnlilbkE_qCsxWdN2QttwOP61VP_dX34dGrGzG2gz_8kRSl1LrqqQ5WuCB5PiDqUEjcBMVxxHH8T1HQvsQjLlVF6LsizgjraTnwI1sRmWbMOmHF0Msg_sZI3rqjawF_qg/s1600/Screenshot-559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsEyET2nLhXXnlilbkE_qCsxWdN2QttwOP61VP_dX34dGrGzG2gz_8kRSl1LrqqQ5WuCB5PiDqUEjcBMVxxHH8T1HQvsQjLlVF6LsizgjraTnwI1sRmWbMOmHF0Msg_sZI3rqjawF_qg/s640/Screenshot-559.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo decides on making a can of soup for Verona as he figures that is easy and quick. While the soup's heating up, he puts a glass of water in front of her.<br />
<br />
"Are you ok, Verona?"<br />
<br />
"Yes. Are you ok?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I'm fine."<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Camo."<br />
<br />
"For what?"<br />
<br />
"For being the best boyfriend in the world."<br />
<br />
Camo finishes cooking the soup, bringing it and a spoon over to Verona. He sits in front of her and smiles. She looks up at him and laughs. Camo loves her smile and her laugh. He's reminded of the day she was watching him eat soup and forgot to eat her sandwich.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7M8nRk9V3_4DmwBkp8MUEgaqb4u4dR6GLdQqAO1XGqtVzO2DCf8yGWwiwfKCEyXGIF9M7NB-f9FcL2ej0CXPWc1EJ-57WfY5oY-EqbJ3yNkSrVEWqOxWDVfgL0sqoFGYHSffPbi4EmAk/s1600/Screenshot-558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7M8nRk9V3_4DmwBkp8MUEgaqb4u4dR6GLdQqAO1XGqtVzO2DCf8yGWwiwfKCEyXGIF9M7NB-f9FcL2ej0CXPWc1EJ-57WfY5oY-EqbJ3yNkSrVEWqOxWDVfgL0sqoFGYHSffPbi4EmAk/s640/Screenshot-558.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona, I should go home. It's 9:30."<br />
<br />
"Do you want me to take you?"<br />
<br />
"No, I can take a taxi. You've had a rough night, you should stay home. I'll see you at work."<br />
<br />
Camo gets up and puts his arms around Verona's shoulders, kissing the top of her head before he leaves.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpGCDQ4bLusHos_NWvmgs2ZfHvf8tijeiQd0PI2Qh7VO66pnrOTxTho0JD1v8y9Eeb4-AQNWYzgSaMFbwUFidq1TN_weErIG_3voIiQ0_D-YlfB_FKPnmRnr1W6r-aJ6brlMG-1MOwTw/s1600/Screenshot-555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpGCDQ4bLusHos_NWvmgs2ZfHvf8tijeiQd0PI2Qh7VO66pnrOTxTho0JD1v8y9Eeb4-AQNWYzgSaMFbwUFidq1TN_weErIG_3voIiQ0_D-YlfB_FKPnmRnr1W6r-aJ6brlMG-1MOwTw/s640/Screenshot-555.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Kalya is on the ground, but I don't care right now. In my mind, she deserved that punch for slapping Camo. How the hell could she do that? What has got her so blinded that she can't see that our daughter loves him? <i>Ugh. I don't even care anymore. I don't care why. I don't care what her problem is. She never answers me anyway, she always gives me some bullshit about how she's afraid for Verona. She has nothing to be afraid of. I'm sick of her crap and sick of putting up with it for so long. Whoo... deep breath, Charles. Don't make any rash decisions in the heat of your anger.</i> I close my eyes for a few seconds, but Kalya hasn't even made any attempt to answer me. I open my eyes and see her standing in front of me with a death glare. <i>Like that's going to scare me or something.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcn1o8I0Rckh1c74z2I8DCXnbbCalrVOAOM0WTmmcbG5dbuJgVdgJTvd7ESmcstPS6kIQmHmdoAdc4CRAqED_Mr2gPjUF-jew7mDJ7ubKSvtfTKJRJwQq4gtJgDgELch5xcUmpjlRr_E0/s1600/Screenshot-561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcn1o8I0Rckh1c74z2I8DCXnbbCalrVOAOM0WTmmcbG5dbuJgVdgJTvd7ESmcstPS6kIQmHmdoAdc4CRAqED_Mr2gPjUF-jew7mDJ7ubKSvtfTKJRJwQq4gtJgDgELch5xcUmpjlRr_E0/s640/Screenshot-561.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona punched me because she is an ungrateful whore and I can't believe I gave birth to such indecency."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDbqS2P_4vo0samrGR95ObA9yS9rjUK8u54m2YTwMJOA3ENua-RFEbsVZP_c8qcGVeNRAzCrDGs0Y70VNn_eBE9SAjxeEGcT_cQ5qQeyqc0X3cCA-JRWtJx1f9zOba03Y0V1AuE6pIbNo/s1600/Screenshot-563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDbqS2P_4vo0samrGR95ObA9yS9rjUK8u54m2YTwMJOA3ENua-RFEbsVZP_c8qcGVeNRAzCrDGs0Y70VNn_eBE9SAjxeEGcT_cQ5qQeyqc0X3cCA-JRWtJx1f9zOba03Y0V1AuE6pIbNo/s640/Screenshot-563.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I stuff my hands in my pockets. <i>I wish she wasn't standing up right now because I really want to punch her back down onto the floor. </i><i>That is so wrong. </i><i>Do not hit your wife. </i><i>Do not hit your wife. Do not hit your wife.</i> Stupid Kalya. I hate her so much right now.<br />
<br />
"Wrong answer."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXT6Q2sgewq1SR2HMALb6kHV8KZ1Gpd23IDEeo8dXgxw79Jz2HN0JuJj54xtqdpxZdqZdY3Y353-lat9oe7Y1pHxrE0On2oBtD9QjvLZcDCEKvP_P6ZhnM6G3ddwo7yMmjwnuTmS7Ddr0/s1600/Screenshot-562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXT6Q2sgewq1SR2HMALb6kHV8KZ1Gpd23IDEeo8dXgxw79Jz2HN0JuJj54xtqdpxZdqZdY3Y353-lat9oe7Y1pHxrE0On2oBtD9QjvLZcDCEKvP_P6ZhnM6G3ddwo7yMmjwnuTmS7Ddr0/s640/Screenshot-562.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE6743YU8AY7RRx61Vfk97wqnx1Ez-1v-pRlaxamRQIWkijJGpfcrmvXH5SxwDK1XXyHT5UaLzYbbIJpkqNGkN8f20T_d6O5k4DSv2x3lZHaCOWZ7Wd86qXgUdFLAOiuRUWQprl7oMfK8/s1600/Screenshot-565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE6743YU8AY7RRx61Vfk97wqnx1Ez-1v-pRlaxamRQIWkijJGpfcrmvXH5SxwDK1XXyHT5UaLzYbbIJpkqNGkN8f20T_d6O5k4DSv2x3lZHaCOWZ7Wd86qXgUdFLAOiuRUWQprl7oMfK8/s640/Screenshot-565.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I walk past Kalya and go upstairs to the gym. I need to run away. I figure it's better to run on the treadmill so I feel like I'm running away without actually doing it. This is my house that I bought with my money, so there's no way I'm going to leave.<i> Why did I fall in love with her?</i> I was at the rehab center, and she was my caretaker, the one who made sure I was going to all the meetings. She was gentle and loving. <i>Was she just playing me this whole time?</i> I told her I wanted to be a famous director someday and I realized cocaine wasn't going to help me get there. <i>Did she just marry me for my money?</i> I didn't have any money when we first started going out. <i>When did we get married?</i> We got married after I'd had a few movies under my belt and was doing pretty well for myself. Then we had Victor, Verona's brother, and then Verona. <i>Thank God I have a prenup. Why did she sign the prenup if she was after my money?</i> <i>She's obsessed with status, maybe she married me for status and not money.</i> <i>That doesn't make any sense, but of course, she doesn't make sense, so why does that surprise me?</i><br />
<br />
"Daddy?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyLXkrfO100zGQhVwieZJC6I64P34RaHex7BL5Ce6vHN7Ng5FoIK1Qxeajt59_nC75upqSdmYqtIplyHc5HupfslK3EiPbf0d30B_k1XIMs69V_AUcYUQA3xOHA4Jx4rIrEVdF8SP62-g/s1600/Screenshot-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyLXkrfO100zGQhVwieZJC6I64P34RaHex7BL5Ce6vHN7Ng5FoIK1Qxeajt59_nC75upqSdmYqtIplyHc5HupfslK3EiPbf0d30B_k1XIMs69V_AUcYUQA3xOHA4Jx4rIrEVdF8SP62-g/s640/Screenshot-36.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm jarred out of my thoughts by Verona, who's timidly standing by the door. I shut off the treadmill and motion for her to come in. We sit on the couch by the wall.<br />
<br />
"What's up baby girl?"<br />
<br />
"Do you hate me for punching Mom?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTS-_CYvig_ilZ6ZVaoM4UnRqijPIn_Y-BF9r1sOYTyMWADXPdyGEPVl6GrU2-MImfChU9Epbbn3L4PNOT4yUCVKIaUyN7QuwB0B5a4MZkYm3AfxIO24mPPxff_-C69sRtJ7sps6LuN_0/s1600/Screenshot-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTS-_CYvig_ilZ6ZVaoM4UnRqijPIn_Y-BF9r1sOYTyMWADXPdyGEPVl6GrU2-MImfChU9Epbbn3L4PNOT4yUCVKIaUyN7QuwB0B5a4MZkYm3AfxIO24mPPxff_-C69sRtJ7sps6LuN_0/s640/Screenshot-37.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Oh no, of course not. Nothing you do could ever make me hate you, ok?"<br />
<br />
Verona nods, and she looks down at the couch cushions, playing with the fabric.<br />
<br />
"Is that all you wanted to say, Verona?"<br />
<br />
"No. I wanted to apologize. I mean, she's a bitch, but she's still my mom, and I'm sorry I punched her."<br />
<br />
"That's ok. I'm going to be honest with you, I am glad you did because it's not like I can punch her."<br />
<br />
"You wanted to punch her too?"<br />
<br />
I nod at Verona, a little ashamed that such a violent thought would go through my head. What kind of a man goes around thinking he should punch his wife?<br />
<br />
"Do you think I'm a terrible person, Verona? For thinking about stuff like that?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-negJUKDS6FwlL1NhU_xQNsgXAGMCRXNbmbpkPyLS8pT0ZvxUswpyVMOdsSCjo3UZXKsU6Ziyjk9Vvgw6ubKFGRsYAkHURp3NjQq9CuqIy3hajlJSsGmvRqisCit_IoV44u9-OAb-d2E/s1600/Screenshot-38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-negJUKDS6FwlL1NhU_xQNsgXAGMCRXNbmbpkPyLS8pT0ZvxUswpyVMOdsSCjo3UZXKsU6Ziyjk9Vvgw6ubKFGRsYAkHURp3NjQq9CuqIy3hajlJSsGmvRqisCit_IoV44u9-OAb-d2E/s640/Screenshot-38.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"No, Daddy. Mom was really making everyone angry tonight, it's not like she didn't give us a reason to want to hit her. Do you know why I punched her?"<br />
<br />
Verona is still feeling a little scared. I can see it in her eyes. I wonder why. She knows I'd never hurt her.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I do. I saw her slap Camo."<br />
<br />
Verona breathes a sigh of relief. Oh, so she thought I didn't see as much as I did.<br />
<br />
"Baby girl, it's all right, I saw Camo say he loved you and he'd never hurt you. Then I saw your mom slap him. That was the last straw for me for tonight, anyway. I can't stand to see her. The look on her face after you punched her was priceless, though. I know you don't go around punching your parents for no reason."<br />
<br />
Verona laughs and stops playing with the fabric, turning her beautiful blue eyes to me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNe_ifxTfS_n9kMAb7yq7_S7IsBZyGMabzKoWj51xEbcU5oUSCLRsX56AW-VyzvoJEvLtcr4ReY4ska22DPBNmCt0lMSqPXwEAmhK6c63IhGun0UqsIhhMRkGKD2Io75owVEv99DrGGq8/s1600/Screenshot-39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNe_ifxTfS_n9kMAb7yq7_S7IsBZyGMabzKoWj51xEbcU5oUSCLRsX56AW-VyzvoJEvLtcr4ReY4ska22DPBNmCt0lMSqPXwEAmhK6c63IhGun0UqsIhhMRkGKD2Io75owVEv99DrGGq8/s640/Screenshot-39.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I'm glad I didn't inherit Mom's tendency to go around assaulting everyone for no reason."<br />
<br />
"I just can't believe she hit Camo, after how you two were interacting. I don't understand what's got her so blindsided with her focus on this high society stuff. She wasn't always like this. At least I don't think she was. Maybe I just didn't see it before. Oh, I'm just so confused right now, Verona. I'm wondering if she was manipulating me this whole time and I didn't see it until I saw her interact with people other than me, or if she just finally went off the deep end."<br />
<br />
"What was she like when you met her?"<br />
<br />
"She was nice, but we didn't have children then. I don't know if that's what caused her to start acting like this, I mean I know she was always trying to set you up, but I didn't think that she would really force you to go into an arranged dating scenario. My eyes were really opened tonight after seeing how your mother still insisted on pushing you towards Marcus even after she saw you with Camo. I don't know what she sees, but when I saw you and Camo interacting, it made me feel happy because I could tell he likes you a lot just by the way he looks at you. When we were eating dinner, and you were in your room, he was so worried about you. It's like I'm realizing she won't ever approve of anyone you date unless it's who she wants. I'm torn because I'm your father, and I feel like I should protect you, like it's my duty, but then I have an obligation to be a husband as well. I don't really want to have to pick and choose between my daughter or my wife."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9j4WtkVnbhkTaa2xyBPHz-NkCWdzxRWttWQ0vfdF3IE10uEYeSZMfsMhDJTsQ0LBWmF1pfZqjZ3AjzOJZV-6253TrKOxFOLtgvzz7Vda9OFSxUsZvoT-ELukVuGJ4tfybmEcWGMXwxyA/s1600/Screenshot-40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9j4WtkVnbhkTaa2xyBPHz-NkCWdzxRWttWQ0vfdF3IE10uEYeSZMfsMhDJTsQ0LBWmF1pfZqjZ3AjzOJZV-6253TrKOxFOLtgvzz7Vda9OFSxUsZvoT-ELukVuGJ4tfybmEcWGMXwxyA/s640/Screenshot-40.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Daddy, it's not wrong of you to be so disturbed by Mom. Did you know she told me I had to call her Mother because it sounded more appropriate than Mom or Mommy?"<br />
<br />
"What? No. That's ridiculous."<br />
<br />
"I kept calling her Mom tonight. She made me mad, so I thought, why should I indulge her nonsense?"<br />
<br />
"Indulge her nonsense, that's a good way to put it. By putting up with her for this long, I feel like I've been enabling her behavior. I don't know what to do. I'm really mad at her right now. I don't want to break up our family, but I don't like this constant thing hanging over your head. It's driving me crazy that she won't listen to reason."<br />
<br />
"I don't know either Daddy, but maybe if you think about who is really the one breaking up the family, it'll give you some insight into what you should do. Good night, Daddy."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAMkILEhmuk8JRifxwxkjY1OpKgVVn_a9jO6Bqpkv3iutlKTtnxA083GfN5o2usfblctukfk2ZXVOS-iVMK16QMVMbaEm-fkw5O59PlAF_Axcrxy3OVXLP6QGB05kk9HvIgp0I-VowuM/s1600/Screenshot-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAMkILEhmuk8JRifxwxkjY1OpKgVVn_a9jO6Bqpkv3iutlKTtnxA083GfN5o2usfblctukfk2ZXVOS-iVMK16QMVMbaEm-fkw5O59PlAF_Axcrxy3OVXLP6QGB05kk9HvIgp0I-VowuM/s640/Screenshot-41.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Verona has left me with some wise words. She's such a good daughter. <i>Did I raise Verona all by myself even though Kalya was by my side?</i> Verona turned out so much like me, her good nature, her ability to read people's character despite what their outer appearances might say, her willingness to give people a chance. What did Kalya do? She doesn't even see Verona's personality, she just gets mad at her for not doing what she says. Ugh, my head is exploding thinking about this so much. I go down to the pool area and pour myself a drink and sit by the pool. The cool night air feels good. It's refreshing and just what I needed after this nightmare of a day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxGufF0C54ZN_Fw7cWNvap4lF2n6561O3wEUG0XTUX_IZ4aG-Kjzimmq3YMwTB5wYlDWmjP-q0uCFOmyoO63pLoVP-z1MQyB3SX87UOuX3Zv_HgaprDH31ZBk9zmodnUAyv6m46OSJzY/s1600/Screenshot-42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxGufF0C54ZN_Fw7cWNvap4lF2n6561O3wEUG0XTUX_IZ4aG-Kjzimmq3YMwTB5wYlDWmjP-q0uCFOmyoO63pLoVP-z1MQyB3SX87UOuX3Zv_HgaprDH31ZBk9zmodnUAyv6m46OSJzY/s640/Screenshot-42.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgYeLC4JTK1mbNWFWvK3UwcxZLsvL86rcPqBS5jm1L0IZd8eaQu9TFMc-ufqHloxkCL1_RgKJzwthBHW8UorYFKwhPJVu7TNhBKjQ1CVUyXtRRp-zR0gknmhrsfANgVWCgHE_v1LRI9_o/s1600/Screenshot-43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgYeLC4JTK1mbNWFWvK3UwcxZLsvL86rcPqBS5jm1L0IZd8eaQu9TFMc-ufqHloxkCL1_RgKJzwthBHW8UorYFKwhPJVu7TNhBKjQ1CVUyXtRRp-zR0gknmhrsfANgVWCgHE_v1LRI9_o/s640/Screenshot-43.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Credit:<ul>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://mrsobsposemania.wordpress.com/">Mrs OB's Sim Mania!</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://blog.yam.com/happyme77/article/39276329">Oh My Sims</a></li>
</ul>
</h2>
<br />
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-40259449915551997272013-05-13T14:13:00.000-07:002013-05-13T14:13:36.410-07:00Chapter 28: FightI'm disgusted with Verona right now. I don't understand why she can't see happiness when it's looking her in the face. When I saw her in the living room with that boy saying she hated Marcus, I felt like she was throwing away her life. I hated the way he was sitting so close to her with his arm around her, I hated the color of his shirt, how his hair was so unkempt, how he marred his body with that tattoo, how he was looking at her like she was a piece of meat.<br />
<br />
"<b>What</b> is your problem, Kalya?!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TR6-w-lo3kDLyOltaQe6JqwRUrCjpPJZDGSwhNEM_-v2dzij-iDaaPIY1VG2cg1w74s13mocMkmH3iEeEMPq1RiGKasqqd5lVOWDbpnMeF2TyrI7fOq5gOIlVPp-6E-KtctZoST9joY/s1600/Screenshot-492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TR6-w-lo3kDLyOltaQe6JqwRUrCjpPJZDGSwhNEM_-v2dzij-iDaaPIY1VG2cg1w74s13mocMkmH3iEeEMPq1RiGKasqqd5lVOWDbpnMeF2TyrI7fOq5gOIlVPp-6E-KtctZoST9joY/s640/Screenshot-492.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I am interrupted from my thoughts by Charles, who sounds really angry. Perhaps Verona gets her outrageous temper from Charles. She for sure did not learn such rude behavior from me. He storms out of Verona's room, his face contorted in an unpleasant expression.<br />
<br />
"Verona was being disrespectful."<br />
<br />
"That doesn't mean you slap her! She's your daughter, for crying out loud! Besides, choosing who she wants to love is NOT disrespectful!"<br />
<br />
"Charles, don't yell. It's not becoming. How do you expect her to learn respect if not by discipline?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWxemxjpXMgxAsBAiaQzzOC2t1Arkn8vmyEW8BpjnN10n30si5kZo5A13-wb5fFl99hTLwQnkQoOxq1cvmSNMdt8YjLvMG6EQahoQBxwThe3n5JxiUMvPyMps8hqJhft3DGGOm5GVlRc/s1600/Screenshot-490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWxemxjpXMgxAsBAiaQzzOC2t1Arkn8vmyEW8BpjnN10n30si5kZo5A13-wb5fFl99hTLwQnkQoOxq1cvmSNMdt8YjLvMG6EQahoQBxwThe3n5JxiUMvPyMps8hqJhft3DGGOm5GVlRc/s640/Screenshot-490.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Are you kidding me right now?! You just beat up our daughter, and you're acting like it's fine! Respect?! You don't know the meaning of the word. Besides, she respects <b>me</b> just fine. She understands respect. It's <b>you</b> who doesn't understand respect!"<br />
<br />
"I resent that fact Charles. I understand respect just fine. I am her parent, I know what's best for her. Also, I did not 'beat her up.' She's not bleeding."<br />
<br />
I make air quotes when I say beat her up. Charles is overreacting.<br />
<br />
"Don't condescend to me, Kalya. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit. One more slap, like you were about to do before I came over, would have made her bleed. For what? You'd make her bleed because she doesn't like Marcus?! Why?! This is a free country, Kalya. Arranged dating is out of date because it's stupid! ARGH!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdglYk7ANDa-WIDApGNNxEYNS__Q6Od68p0Jfv3QwnM_1c9qOumnUDIwCFGXaMnshv3PA0WGZ67sMOxZWBOey8g5CMgSut3owN6oLIo8OYw9s9kuaAvnD-vxBVmI_16ZWTYXjoKziMPVw/s1600/Screenshot-493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdglYk7ANDa-WIDApGNNxEYNS__Q6Od68p0Jfv3QwnM_1c9qOumnUDIwCFGXaMnshv3PA0WGZ67sMOxZWBOey8g5CMgSut3owN6oLIo8OYw9s9kuaAvnD-vxBVmI_16ZWTYXjoKziMPVw/s640/Screenshot-493.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Charles throws his hands up in the air and starts pacing. Such language. I don't know why I ever found that attractive about him.<br />
<br />
"If that boy would have minded his own business, Verona would have seen the error of her ways."<br />
<br />
"THAT BOY?! Really?! That boy has a name, Kalya, and he cares about Verona! Which is more than I can say for you right now."<br />
<br />
Charles gets up in my face as he insults me and I reach up to smack the impropriety out of him, but he steps back and grabs my wrist with lightning speed.<br />
<br />
"Don't you DARE fucking slap me."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYF-IroTKDm5ZJgMFApAX82hXqwyb8UB2Aqdv6ffhpsXFsFox-ftwS1t_j-nU5y445edpuOv41i8G0ZcuTlOk6pQ4uyDTuC5eP1xjXOEvgpWpY7qiKA9xzNLXvudeqGuIH_0X_ajHEz4/s1600/Screenshot-494.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYF-IroTKDm5ZJgMFApAX82hXqwyb8UB2Aqdv6ffhpsXFsFox-ftwS1t_j-nU5y445edpuOv41i8G0ZcuTlOk6pQ4uyDTuC5eP1xjXOEvgpWpY7qiKA9xzNLXvudeqGuIH_0X_ajHEz4/s640/Screenshot-494.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Again with the language. He deserves to be slapped. Charles stands there, glaring at me with such hate in his eyes. I admit I am a little scared right now, but that doesn't change the fact I think he's wrong. I wrestle my hand out of his grasp forcefully and put it down to my side.<br />
<br />
"Don't accuse me of not caring about Verona. The girl just needed some discipline. That boy's not good for her."<br />
<br />
"You don't even know him! How can you be so judgmental?!"<br />
<br />
"Well, for one thing, he's nosy and doesn't know his place. As a guest in our house, he should have looked the other way."<br />
<br />
"Oh, what?! So if you were aiming a gun at Verona's head, he should just let you shoot her?! It's called he cares about Verona enough to not want her harmed. If you must know, you made him uncomfortable, and he was very nervous telling me about it."<br />
<br />
"I don't need to cater to the likes of someone as mediocre as him."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEillH7Ft5o-xvGtNaLHGi9AQJnJcAO4sVweCXKSCsKrvPLElmvH1NHF0lK2827vlxc3tgWdtZU1GpvwabR9zlN-zgOOHZ1H1CfWFbX5EQcozy1tgl88_SN3kVIhl_ZyArlOJzg9rF8swOU/s1600/Screenshot-495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEillH7Ft5o-xvGtNaLHGi9AQJnJcAO4sVweCXKSCsKrvPLElmvH1NHF0lK2827vlxc3tgWdtZU1GpvwabR9zlN-zgOOHZ1H1CfWFbX5EQcozy1tgl88_SN3kVIhl_ZyArlOJzg9rF8swOU/s640/Screenshot-495.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"ARGH! Just- what- I- FUCK!"<br />
<br />
Charles says a bunch of incomplete sentences and some more language. He turns away from me.<br />
<br />
"You know what Kalya? You talk of propriety all the time, but you never practice it. We had a guest at our house today and you made a scene in front of him. That's not very proper in my eyes."<br />
<br />
"I don't consider him a guest. He's just like that pool boy I caught Verona with a few years ago."<br />
<br />
"Damien was a perfectly nice guy that Verona enjoyed spending time with. He did great work on our pool, but you fired him. For what? For having a little fun?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzR-8tSH0wF6810M4BJFsOsxjg3obB7R5K609dLj5TZ02ASzGEXqEW3nqObEW56hSeDKnalbyZhp3DrORkUH2pgkON0t3zrjpBpSaIY4irIgRBYKt4KLFop5nS9hKKLW_FtcDj2n9S4wU/s1600/Screenshot-496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzR-8tSH0wF6810M4BJFsOsxjg3obB7R5K609dLj5TZ02ASzGEXqEW3nqObEW56hSeDKnalbyZhp3DrORkUH2pgkON0t3zrjpBpSaIY4irIgRBYKt4KLFop5nS9hKKLW_FtcDj2n9S4wU/s640/Screenshot-496.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Now who's disrespecting Verona?"<br />
<br />
Charles glares at me pointedly.<br />
<br />
"Verona had fun too. She said Damien was a perfect gentleman and never made her do anything she didn't want to do. I can't believe you still have the nerve to think you're right about this. I don't understand you. It's like I don't even know you right now."<br />
<br />
"I could say the same for you, Charles."<br />
<br />
"This is ridiculous. YOU are ridiculous. I'm sleeping in a different room tonight because I can't stand you."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
My face hurts. Daddy went outside hopefully to kick Mom's ass, and Camo sits with me and the cloth on my cheek. Camo pulls me out of the fetal position and sits behind me, wrapping his arm around me, while burying his face in my hair. I hear lots of yelling. Daddy doesn't normally get this angry, but I'm glad he is because Mom really went crazy today.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowwTaQoaGKW9WVCUvRY7RTm4Xq1eBw5Z5noAgSPK16Ph7Zex7tcIXcqwsYiC6jEUgW4cuLjj7kJrH5B0pfvKmtdbPhqRD0KCM-rFKKtwnNhXkdDlT1srLP1UkzBrTt1Eo_Rfq74d27tI/s1600/Screenshot-491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowwTaQoaGKW9WVCUvRY7RTm4Xq1eBw5Z5noAgSPK16Ph7Zex7tcIXcqwsYiC6jEUgW4cuLjj7kJrH5B0pfvKmtdbPhqRD0KCM-rFKKtwnNhXkdDlT1srLP1UkzBrTt1Eo_Rfq74d27tI/s640/Screenshot-491.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo, I'm really sorry this was the day I chose to invite you to my house."<br />
<br />
"That's okay. I like your dad a lot."<br />
<br />
"You're not uncomfortable?"<br />
<br />
"No, cause you're here. I'm thirsty, do you want something to drink? You haven't eaten yet, are you hungry, do you want something to eat too?"<br />
<br />
I love this man so much. I squeeze his hand and mumble yes.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVtFULs7hhYj1P5kXWpbfFTXs3o90azRdlKPe-2h9SQ2yaWui72UecxF6Kybc8BNXX5VZn9yPwyhrDxOq_d6qNBsQki7sju5NP3IzsrRCg4ZIDIW0-aSVcmWyRnaZK2GvbBBH3Kw2oM4/s1600/Screenshot-497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVtFULs7hhYj1P5kXWpbfFTXs3o90azRdlKPe-2h9SQ2yaWui72UecxF6Kybc8BNXX5VZn9yPwyhrDxOq_d6qNBsQki7sju5NP3IzsrRCg4ZIDIW0-aSVcmWyRnaZK2GvbBBH3Kw2oM4/s640/Screenshot-497.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo takes my hand and we walk out of my room. My demeanor goes cold again when I see Mom still in the foyer. Daddy is nowhere to be found. He must have gotten tired of yelling at her.<br />
<br />
"Excuse me, you. Come here."<br />
<br />
"Mom, if you touch him I swear, I will kick your ass."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEida-FNfxOh5oodhgtkL2clvpgfWbpERbv3v2PbAQUSyj40rtnDv_ReqlwjXGHjTM6B95h_D7rlXuzBqa4B3sJBwuCRG3JeomEpzDTTyQ5YDtzbap67MqI1zhrtQjfYTPPcbPF7arDnDtc/s1600/Screenshot-498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEida-FNfxOh5oodhgtkL2clvpgfWbpERbv3v2PbAQUSyj40rtnDv_ReqlwjXGHjTM6B95h_D7rlXuzBqa4B3sJBwuCRG3JeomEpzDTTyQ5YDtzbap67MqI1zhrtQjfYTPPcbPF7arDnDtc/s640/Screenshot-498.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Nonsense Verona. I just want to talk."<br />
<br />
Now Camo looks uncomfortable and I stay with him instead of going to get something to eat.<br />
<br />
"What is your name?"<br />
<br />
"Camo, ma'am."<br />
<br />
"Last name?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjENJnAhEs4T1dFIAmMk5AttaWMx8jY4lVvYW7fhnrmX_j6hJElY7dQTJ616bZNDGUrSO74DnCXMhgiyvarFonb05p90j6ZIP055-lMtqJ2Ijlucd3S5fF5g4HffTa5VdPeS6PjP3CPriQ/s1600/Screenshot-499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjENJnAhEs4T1dFIAmMk5AttaWMx8jY4lVvYW7fhnrmX_j6hJElY7dQTJ616bZNDGUrSO74DnCXMhgiyvarFonb05p90j6ZIP055-lMtqJ2Ijlucd3S5fF5g4HffTa5VdPeS6PjP3CPriQ/s640/Screenshot-499.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Uh... I don't have one."<br />
<br />
"Nonsense, everyone has a last name. So what is it, hmm?"<br />
<br />
"Well, ma'am, I don't."<br />
<br />
<i>Crap</i>. Mom, just shut up. I start pulling Camo in the direction of the kitchen, but Mom moves in front of me, shooting me a dirty look.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim384c97MlsvspCT9369o8HFM0OHwKQQfiZahK8Gg_n0DF5nNgxnUcJ8sUc49E1zIAul0ohvPf0vvsr1FiYf-f4DpWK7am1A_LINQuPPP4ha3aSAtg7Q-ZySRS61afZ_odd9AHvPPEtVs/s1600/Screenshot-500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim384c97MlsvspCT9369o8HFM0OHwKQQfiZahK8Gg_n0DF5nNgxnUcJ8sUc49E1zIAul0ohvPf0vvsr1FiYf-f4DpWK7am1A_LINQuPPP4ha3aSAtg7Q-ZySRS61afZ_odd9AHvPPEtVs/s640/Screenshot-500.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Are you an orphan? No parents to give you a last name?"<br />
<br />
"I guess. I don't know who my parents are."<br />
<br />
"Yes, dear, that's the definition of orphan. What is your intention with my daughter?"<br />
<br />
"I love her."<br />
<br />
Ha. Mom is stunned. I try again to pull Camo with me, but Mom maneuvers around me again and stands in front of us. She laughs rudely, like Marcus did at the restaurant, and I suddenly get an urge to throw something.<br />
<br />
"If you love her, you should know how to mind your manners when you're over at her house, don't you think? Telling my husband what you saw isn't very nice when you're a guest."<br />
<br />
Camo's face turns from nervous to irritated.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhIZQkY_lYNYtUzMJZNJod_P8QIBcb4HcARkl8hG3hxI3d8w0G_xmqoTUlFghOq8sOZfoq_ThrEdlHTPYJlZSbUtcGVXG7QG-aQ57FC0iE63_gXBZ_fn2A3MMP2rTdev8h-x2WnsdqWc/s1600/Screenshot-501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhIZQkY_lYNYtUzMJZNJod_P8QIBcb4HcARkl8hG3hxI3d8w0G_xmqoTUlFghOq8sOZfoq_ThrEdlHTPYJlZSbUtcGVXG7QG-aQ57FC0iE63_gXBZ_fn2A3MMP2rTdev8h-x2WnsdqWc/s640/Screenshot-501.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I love her, so I felt like I had to tell Charles before she got hurt."<br />
<br />
"That was not your place."<br />
<br />
Camo gets really irritated now and I can hear it in his voice.<br />
<br />
"Look, ma'am, Verona's told me how much she doesn't like being set up and we're perfectly happy together. I'd never hurt your daughter, if that's what you're worried about."<br />
<br />
Everything moves incredibly fast as Mom backhands Camo.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDyegs0Ok3RCsOdBhg-fPI1RX-xEuHB1EjuoJVPB0jusTcucicvZNpEKeEn_md2-l4SuFh2NFnOF1lawsySs35OwIE_LRbf4bE_Pnlzt_r8QF1xMldZ-Gvs281JlaWE0SfyzBNnFt4Ck/s1600/Screenshot-502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDyegs0Ok3RCsOdBhg-fPI1RX-xEuHB1EjuoJVPB0jusTcucicvZNpEKeEn_md2-l4SuFh2NFnOF1lawsySs35OwIE_LRbf4bE_Pnlzt_r8QF1xMldZ-Gvs281JlaWE0SfyzBNnFt4Ck/s640/Screenshot-502.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
He winces. Before I can think about what I'm doing, all my pent up anger towards her kicks in as well as my instincts to defend my boyfriend, and my fist comes in contact with her face.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqHGbo-uat4yhfnZBKl6Hwn7C3Jsuiulh_6i8rO0G50TQXlp9bNhDhMWHTD67x0HSVgtUPwT6La33MCvJUXrU7-kOwjQPm_3P-LjyCHAt04veAuNI4hTVsWDK0DAMt07YFyngZS9qgN4/s1600/Screenshot-503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqHGbo-uat4yhfnZBKl6Hwn7C3Jsuiulh_6i8rO0G50TQXlp9bNhDhMWHTD67x0HSVgtUPwT6La33MCvJUXrU7-kOwjQPm_3P-LjyCHAt04veAuNI4hTVsWDK0DAMt07YFyngZS9qgN4/s640/Screenshot-503.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfGL_NohaN2olFtXG-UUsWm2J_QajOpBwTFLaBrj04dnocJJUyH5e48ua5HK5yfvEnLpuL05SVpO4-fRDmNtTjO0e0WEBv1UiDTTg7xlrYhUJsVOl7Ik6aDApNFG97GOtuNuDphWsnpA/s1600/Screenshot-504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfGL_NohaN2olFtXG-UUsWm2J_QajOpBwTFLaBrj04dnocJJUyH5e48ua5HK5yfvEnLpuL05SVpO4-fRDmNtTjO0e0WEBv1UiDTTg7xlrYhUJsVOl7Ik6aDApNFG97GOtuNuDphWsnpA/s640/Screenshot-504.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Poses Used:<ul>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://zhippidyposes.blogspot.com/">Zhippidy's Custom Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://mrsobsposemania.wordpress.com/">Mrs OB's Sim Mania!</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://blog.yam.com/happyme77/article/39276329">Oh My Sims</a></li>
</ul>
</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-3637313552811395472013-05-11T10:28:00.000-07:002013-05-11T16:41:58.605-07:00Chapter 27: StrangerCamo is standing outside the gate of Verona's house looking at the box that looks a lot like a telephone, but has no handset. He's never seen something like this before, but he figures pushing the green button that says CALL seems like a logical thing to do.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1SbOFRGRACwcSWVxrQSp__t2XVThmE4sHD59LUQvhYZPz-3AseXnb63uKW81yHmLKZpG24p9a_u7cfRP50Og__e9ZvWNq32W-sfWT9-68PwJ4QerlecnTNvN966TWprgs68ryNeCAk0/s1600/Screenshot-435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1SbOFRGRACwcSWVxrQSp__t2XVThmE4sHD59LUQvhYZPz-3AseXnb63uKW81yHmLKZpG24p9a_u7cfRP50Og__e9ZvWNq32W-sfWT9-68PwJ4QerlecnTNvN966TWprgs68ryNeCAk0/s640/Screenshot-435.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Hello?"<br />
<br />
A man's voice comes over the strange box, one Camo's never heard before.<br />
<br />
"Uh, hi. Is Verona there? She invited me over."<br />
<br />
"Yes! I'm Verona's father, Charles. Are you Camo?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, I am."<br />
<br />
Camo hears a loud click and looks up as the gate opens automatically. <i>Wow that's so cool.</i> He starts walking towards the front door. Verona comes out and gives him a big hug.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfWLmlHossVsYuILcBOBZJCjuaNChRNQ5YfNAMewofN_sa446srHhWzSTnSMrTGnbM_Rwcx6sj3kUfoaOu_0HEHrrRX7vswncalCJVS261Qlfy8qkFhGHn_B8EXtsaeOf6DGPlHpsWdpc/s1600/Screenshot-436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfWLmlHossVsYuILcBOBZJCjuaNChRNQ5YfNAMewofN_sa446srHhWzSTnSMrTGnbM_Rwcx6sj3kUfoaOu_0HEHrrRX7vswncalCJVS261Qlfy8qkFhGHn_B8EXtsaeOf6DGPlHpsWdpc/s640/Screenshot-436.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo! I missed you so much. My date sucked."<br />
<br />
"My thing sucked too. What do you want to do today?"<br />
<br />
"Well, my dad's making dinner, so you could eat here. We could watch tv or just hang out and talk."<br />
<br />
Camo follows Verona inside and they sit on the couch together. After a few minutes, a blonde haired man comes over to them. Camo guesses he's Verona's dad, and is even more sure of it when he notices the man has the exact same eye color as Verona. He stands up and shakes the man's hand.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUn1r4RC9cWwWsVPA-wPdJHX6Nu5zAYLuN2mFOusQz2Sjur9JVrLzq7WFyUXyj-0qDoXt30ncpl6S6N_FSHbsj_Ihyphenhyphen40IWzT5cD6P0ccsNjMz3jntG9siusJSkYmUhwEGr54AN3E4tRs/s1600/Screenshot-433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUn1r4RC9cWwWsVPA-wPdJHX6Nu5zAYLuN2mFOusQz2Sjur9JVrLzq7WFyUXyj-0qDoXt30ncpl6S6N_FSHbsj_Ihyphenhyphen40IWzT5cD6P0ccsNjMz3jntG9siusJSkYmUhwEGr54AN3E4tRs/s640/Screenshot-433.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Welcome, Camo. It's nice to meet you. Do you like spaghetti?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, I do. It's nice to meet you too."<br />
<br />
"Ok, well I'll leave you two and continue making dinner, I just wanted to say hi."<br />
<br />
Camo sits back down and snuggles Verona again.<br />
<br />
"What happened on your date?"<br />
<br />
"He was a rich bastard that only cared about public appearances. I hate him."<br />
<br />
"Verona!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4l9ynH5x4edLkr_7XHpC2l2_CYCgmz8s4D3V1RMH_qtVDBqv2fQy0ik9m8OOQsUCyeVx_t3NhebOnX7mSGfUPdFFgJuoiVeDiMKSPmNqwWRoR0Vo-96UmLtJSezL7bCCy5ftLeABYHc4/s1600/Screenshot-434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4l9ynH5x4edLkr_7XHpC2l2_CYCgmz8s4D3V1RMH_qtVDBqv2fQy0ik9m8OOQsUCyeVx_t3NhebOnX7mSGfUPdFFgJuoiVeDiMKSPmNqwWRoR0Vo-96UmLtJSezL7bCCy5ftLeABYHc4/s640/Screenshot-434.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
A woman's voice, sharp and pointed, shoots across the room like a dagger. Camo looks at Verona and she suddenly has a cold look in her eyes, one he's never seen from her before. He knows she isn't directing her coldness towards him, but it's still scary, as if all the love has suddenly evaporated from her being. She gets up and goes over to the woman.<br />
<br />
"WHAT. Mom?! It's true. I hate him."<br />
<br />
"He is good for you."<br />
<br />
"No. He's not. He's good for you, for your precious little tea room parties where you pretend to live in the 1800s and sell your daughter off like livestock. Well, let me tell you this, I will NOT be set up with Marcus. Not NOW. NOT EVER."<br />
<br />
Camo winces as he sees Verona's mother slap her hard across the face.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi7suZprSi0SQ-ca4Pky6s2nN-cFrrGEpGKqjiGeqH2iarkIJ6GTpFXR-KEJif9oRTLiPtWX5WCtgcjXKPfmfKZyYUzB2Y0NBNCeURQX7A9E-wyEvGh6qbiABz0RlvbXZTA0wIwzJG7Xo/s1600/Screenshot-430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi7suZprSi0SQ-ca4Pky6s2nN-cFrrGEpGKqjiGeqH2iarkIJ6GTpFXR-KEJif9oRTLiPtWX5WCtgcjXKPfmfKZyYUzB2Y0NBNCeURQX7A9E-wyEvGh6qbiABz0RlvbXZTA0wIwzJG7Xo/s640/Screenshot-430.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"OW, Mom. What the FUCK?!"<br />
<br />
"Verona! Don't use such foul language! I am your mother, I deserve respect."<br />
<br />
"Respect goes both ways, Mom. You clearly don't resp- OW! WHY do you keep slapping me?!"<br />
<br />
Camo is unsure what to do here as he really wishes Verona's mom would stop abusing her, but it's not like he has a right to tell her what to do, so he goes into the kitchen, hoping Charles is still there.<br />
<br />
"Uh, Charles?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHazlWb5qbLu84rcVaHQR3oWlWre-h22OMXORPqW9L807KeLgTkps6_A0UZlo9qr7kJrrR5yiyH7kPlOD1oEIJ6KIWNXCncACF_NbiyiGoW8XUA95CDQBosd46PN3fzV4UWC3BpqLEnc/s1600/Screenshot-431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHazlWb5qbLu84rcVaHQR3oWlWre-h22OMXORPqW9L807KeLgTkps6_A0UZlo9qr7kJrrR5yiyH7kPlOD1oEIJ6KIWNXCncACF_NbiyiGoW8XUA95CDQBosd46PN3fzV4UWC3BpqLEnc/s640/Screenshot-431.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo. Hey. Dinner's almost-"<br />
<br />
"Um, sorry to interrupt. I saw Verona's mom slapping her."<br />
<br />
"WHAT?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildbfKybjQNRg4_TnK7Retde33fol9Ta7EiJjLLvj3s7IvtdZ7TcjwD1t4nhgGNI6U5QY4zK9_UVaNEpI_7OxKqIDYMLH1Qumoj011Gv6pn67hMAndUaM3271iz-xWExkcSpWK57Ft_rU/s1600/Screenshot-432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildbfKybjQNRg4_TnK7Retde33fol9Ta7EiJjLLvj3s7IvtdZ7TcjwD1t4nhgGNI6U5QY4zK9_UVaNEpI_7OxKqIDYMLH1Qumoj011Gv6pn67hMAndUaM3271iz-xWExkcSpWK57Ft_rU/s640/Screenshot-432.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Charles runs out of the kitchen and into the foyer where Kalya is assaulting Verona. He catches Kalya's wrist firmly just as she's about to slap Verona again. He tells Verona he's sorry with his eyes, and Verona runs away to her room.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I can't believe what I'm seeing. Kalya raising her hand to Verona. I'm so angry right now. Her wrist is in my grasp and I don't know what to say. She had such a crazy look in her eyes earlier. I have no idea what is wrong with her. Do I even know the person standing in front of me? Is she the girl I fell in love with? I find it difficult right now to see her underneath the cold exterior of this woman in the foyer. I continue to be at a loss for words as I let go of Kalya's wrist and just glare at her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGnBkHKctKnir5iY3-aK5WkvpPn_zTM9sTig7uASxVx9Ozjs2wHnELkVFuIsegXPK91oyCl7b3xLfdyHMrbtSrfLJGwaawpHYO8jA7g5A76ySrgldYGsdwQHOq4sCpkjChMoIQh7HYPa8/s1600/Screenshot-428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGnBkHKctKnir5iY3-aK5WkvpPn_zTM9sTig7uASxVx9Ozjs2wHnELkVFuIsegXPK91oyCl7b3xLfdyHMrbtSrfLJGwaawpHYO8jA7g5A76ySrgldYGsdwQHOq4sCpkjChMoIQh7HYPa8/s640/Screenshot-428.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Dinner's ruined now as I have lost my appetite, and I'm pretty sure Verona has as well. I can't even imagine what poor Camo must be thinking right now, he probably thinks we're psycho. I turn around and leave the stranger standing in my house and go back to the kitchen. Camo is still there. He looks a little nervous, so I smile at him, trying to make him feel better.<br />
<br />
"Camo, what would you like to drink? We have some beer if you're twenty-one, otherwise there's some Pepsi, milk, water?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJRuIIAntwfNSzBG5WjGz7TfirhX5n8cMJOT2I7M9W8q7lErOjNw6QRU0VLAZhFIqmF1Xq-k9y5e44QkAjVYodf8iLJd6mSoqRd_SGvq211GW9kFTGxOtWv0ogJYkyQVoQOZS_oPxxe8/s1600/Screenshot-425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJRuIIAntwfNSzBG5WjGz7TfirhX5n8cMJOT2I7M9W8q7lErOjNw6QRU0VLAZhFIqmF1Xq-k9y5e44QkAjVYodf8iLJd6mSoqRd_SGvq211GW9kFTGxOtWv0ogJYkyQVoQOZS_oPxxe8/s640/Screenshot-425.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Uh, Pepsi is good. Thank you. Is Verona okay?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know, honestly. I think she's in her room if you want to try to talk to her."<br />
<br />
Camo leaves for a little while and I hear voices, but then he comes back into the kitchen.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-MjNVkHjTRlJAc-gtFElObHn-FX-h-axcUvu1XuPqo_-FWFAmD4Xar7okgWkhAwAWKqdGW_02zt0gBL-_pxLNsxT02cFTxpxIU0FRrTHhysSiIU2vHx95Y8n_IhipX16TqIbMK7DxiY/s1600/Screenshot-427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-MjNVkHjTRlJAc-gtFElObHn-FX-h-axcUvu1XuPqo_-FWFAmD4Xar7okgWkhAwAWKqdGW_02zt0gBL-_pxLNsxT02cFTxpxIU0FRrTHhysSiIU2vHx95Y8n_IhipX16TqIbMK7DxiY/s640/Screenshot-427.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"No luck?"<br />
<br />
"No. She said she wanted to be alone."<br />
<br />
"All right, well, you can eat with me."<br />
<br />
"Thank you."<br />
<br />
Camo sits down at the table and we start eating. I look in Camo's eyes and he doesn't look uncomfortable. He looks worried. I'm glad because he's showing genuine concern for Verona, and I'm glad she found someone who cares that much.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYn0TUK26xyrgKqnh9fOJpW2ohIiO78HBumqSy_1SiBghWCOg2oMMdcNxg_lHkeJeIj0AbVten7RuILOYutEuClyVpbj__foEIgBniJo6f-nKVGYhvVbCmF6QIccGGj9YfO3AVU1dkHo/s1600/Screenshot-424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYn0TUK26xyrgKqnh9fOJpW2ohIiO78HBumqSy_1SiBghWCOg2oMMdcNxg_lHkeJeIj0AbVten7RuILOYutEuClyVpbj__foEIgBniJo6f-nKVGYhvVbCmF6QIccGGj9YfO3AVU1dkHo/s640/Screenshot-424.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
After dinner, we both go towards Verona's room. I knock and Camo follows after Verona says we can come in.<br />
<br />
"Baby girl, come here. Camo, will you get a washcloth from the bathroom and soak it?"<br />
<br />
I look at Verona's face, and her cheek is bright red. Luckily, Kalya hadn't been able to slap her enough times to draw blood, but her cheek is definitely raw. Camo comes out with the wet washcloth and hands it to me. I put it on Verona's cheek, hoping to make her feel better.<br />
<br />
"Daddy, I hate Mom."<br />
<br />
"Shh, baby."<br />
<br />
"My face is still burning... the cloth is nice and cool."<br />
<br />
Camo goes and sits on the other side of the bed, looking at Verona with that same concern in his eyes he had at dinner.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0vwz2sMEGaXsNd6G9a2GU2PZDhhaKU0hHd9bUUiIsB-XEQmOxleM7Qj4YEYaKOD6Ubz-412A5dX0ahvHMPFtTkWfdDsZEXlDITq07vpdQO4nYdCJ2ejUbP9mlVW1oVtYHIdv8dJnW6I/s1600/Screenshot-423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0vwz2sMEGaXsNd6G9a2GU2PZDhhaKU0hHd9bUUiIsB-XEQmOxleM7Qj4YEYaKOD6Ubz-412A5dX0ahvHMPFtTkWfdDsZEXlDITq07vpdQO4nYdCJ2ejUbP9mlVW1oVtYHIdv8dJnW6I/s640/Screenshot-423.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"What happened out there, baby girl?"<br />
<br />
"Mom yelled at me because she overheard me telling Camo I hate Marcus. She told me her bullshit of how he was a good match and I told her I wasn't going to go along with her plans of being set up with him. Then she hit me and said she deserved respect. I told her she didn't respect me and she hit me again. I'm glad you came over, or she would have hit me a third time. I hate her."<br />
<br />
"You should thank Camo. I was in the kitchen and he told me what she was doing to you."<br />
<br />
"I have a good boyfriend, don't I?"<br />
<br />
I smile at Camo and say, "Yes, you do, baby girl, yes you do."
<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
CREDIT:<ul>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://zhippidyposes.blogspot.com/">Zhippidy's Custom Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.modthesims.info/download.php?t=473128">Mod the Sims: <span style="background-color: #e1e4f2; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">JuBa_0oº</span> - Wake up!</a></li>
</ul>
</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-30917838410160841092013-05-04T20:22:00.000-07:002013-05-04T20:22:34.276-07:00Chapter 26: Aftermath"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"<br />
<br />
In the solitude of my room, <b>finally</b>, I let out a menacing Hulk-like yell. <i>Is it bloody Wednesday yet?!</i> I want to see Camo so bad. I could drive over to his shelter, but I have a weird feeling about it, and I don't know if me going there would get him into trouble, so I refrain.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45qbgRQyQGHe0a8nug9DxpRVzzOdpBQievxpH2KnxWxqA3KNRTpTaavJOE0lo9jaU2F1M6qO68-0BF7RiL2MmizG49v_ub9x8oabO58_C_5VLaJ8fWkLbI1x_SB_iAZs4byphUYT9zL8/s1600/Screenshot-254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45qbgRQyQGHe0a8nug9DxpRVzzOdpBQievxpH2KnxWxqA3KNRTpTaavJOE0lo9jaU2F1M6qO68-0BF7RiL2MmizG49v_ub9x8oabO58_C_5VLaJ8fWkLbI1x_SB_iAZs4byphUYT9zL8/s640/Screenshot-254.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I pull the barrette out of my hair and shake my head around so my hair goes everywhere. I change out of my cocktail dress and throw it on the floor. I look at my dress and feel a little bad for it because I do like it, but I really needed it to go away. I yank open my dresser drawer and find a pair of shorts and my favorite shirt. After putting on the new clothes, I slam my dresser drawer so hard that the dresser almost lifts off the floor.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmappQMtYrhAZxSp6sN_21x-p1ZbMVwVG5qSqKw4KdWaK8IjuGKGQCCmVHEi7xv8NWFE5aXubZPjoO77fI24i2bURpwNGyvKhAn1xVSxUeOp5wYTcymNMR0CyxaeZXyNG1acrVgqsPw6I/s1600/Screenshot-256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmappQMtYrhAZxSp6sN_21x-p1ZbMVwVG5qSqKw4KdWaK8IjuGKGQCCmVHEi7xv8NWFE5aXubZPjoO77fI24i2bURpwNGyvKhAn1xVSxUeOp5wYTcymNMR0CyxaeZXyNG1acrVgqsPw6I/s640/Screenshot-256.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When I am done causing commotion in my room, I hear the faint voice of Daddy being upset with Mother. <i>Good, the bitch deserves it.</i> They're talking about my older brother, Victor, whom Mother prefers to me because he's bought into her uppity attitude, marrying some dumb bimbo from the university he attended. I stop listening after I hear Victor's name and stomp up the stairs to the audio visual room where I can play Call of Duty on the massive screen as loud as I want because of the sound dampening built into the walls. I could play it on the television in the main area, but Mother wouldn't want to hear the "infernal racket" as she calls it. A thought passes my mind of doing it on purpose to piss her off, but I decide against it because I actually want to spend my time playing rather than talking to her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7e4Z-2TTBH_0nGZ0KFooe1Zf7T7WAjBby2oMG8GA9c4vjCQz6DhW6MBsIr-6SedEIsKIUvWN5boGMu3KNCUhoj5akpn3wWCGaWF6HIZR2YKpKppKHmYPSF-fmeuHPU7jOH6dSCIfzdnA/s1600/Screenshot-257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7e4Z-2TTBH_0nGZ0KFooe1Zf7T7WAjBby2oMG8GA9c4vjCQz6DhW6MBsIr-6SedEIsKIUvWN5boGMu3KNCUhoj5akpn3wWCGaWF6HIZR2YKpKppKHmYPSF-fmeuHPU7jOH6dSCIfzdnA/s640/Screenshot-257.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I come home to tension so thick I don't think it could even be cut with the most powerful sword invented. Verona looks like she is ready to explode and Kalya is smiling. Verona storms off and I hear her scream. <i>Why does Kalya continue to torment our daughter?</i> In all my years of being with Kalya, this is the side of her I have never been able to understand. It's like she's two different people with our children. With Victor, she's a smiling, kind, nurturing mother, and with Verona, she's a controlling, overbearing, dictator of a person. The thing that drives me crazy the most is she does all those things to Verona with a smile on her face. I think I may have an idea of what happened based on how Verona was dressed, but I still ask Kalya to give me her side of the story.<br />
<br />
"Kalya, please tell me what happened tonight."<br />
<br />
"Oh the most wonderful thing, Charles."<br />
<br />
<i>Is she serious? Did her and I not see the same girl standing in the room?</i> I close my eyes, and try to remind myself this is my wife. Sometimes when she acts like this, it's hard for me to talk to her.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyEQW-xzkpZXc-i2N55IwGUJxrOyCaB2Wnaz8yzm_074MqlHLRoOlUYKicR7n3Tj7bO3LuMjhLV0VlRcZEGNsN8dBffwIJCuN2MzTW3StmTki-E_gu_tjOCs-rf1RMF_v17G0OMWX4Tk/s1600/Screenshot-258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyEQW-xzkpZXc-i2N55IwGUJxrOyCaB2Wnaz8yzm_074MqlHLRoOlUYKicR7n3Tj7bO3LuMjhLV0VlRcZEGNsN8dBffwIJCuN2MzTW3StmTki-E_gu_tjOCs-rf1RMF_v17G0OMWX4Tk/s640/Screenshot-258.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
"Verona went on a date with Marcus and they finally talked."<br />
<br />
"Kalya, Verona did <b>not</b> look like she thought this was a <b>wonderful</b> thing. Did you set up this date?"<br />
<br />
"No, Mrs. Wessex did."<br />
<br />
"Did Verona agree to go?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, she went of her own will. I hope something becomes of this. Oh, Charles!"<br />
<br />
Kalya throws her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. I put one arm around her, but I don't squeeze back because I'm extremely unhappy with her right now and I don't want to hug her. She notices I'm being a little cold and pulls away from me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5vrctpdxINxKr_RqpN58r3XBpJE3HOw6pwa1ZazD2EYnscgr4Yq7w_09QAZ4z7y4zYynMdOqrJN27rd8K3Gd7sibifkbm6ZsUgLng1H7e2-kDM9J_f74igujSBZwRTgoYSTqc7ahlsA/s1600/Screenshot-259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5vrctpdxINxKr_RqpN58r3XBpJE3HOw6pwa1ZazD2EYnscgr4Yq7w_09QAZ4z7y4zYynMdOqrJN27rd8K3Gd7sibifkbm6ZsUgLng1H7e2-kDM9J_f74igujSBZwRTgoYSTqc7ahlsA/s640/Screenshot-259.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Charles? What's the matter?"<br />
<br />
"I'm not pleased with you right now, Kalya. Verona did not look happy, in fact, she looked very angry. I don't think that something should become of this. Is the look on her face she had tonight really how you want her to look for the rest of her life?"<br />
<br />
"It will be better for her in the long run. Maybe she just got off on the wrong foot with Marcus. Another date will fix this."<br />
<br />
"Don't you dare, Kalya. Do not set up another date for her. She obviously did not hit it off with Marcus. She should spend her time with someone she likes to be around, not someone who makes her look like she wants to throw things. I don't want her seeing Marcus again."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRu-99RYeQX4jsiaRRdRoLB34qwLDa1_UPXlBWvHf3seCWTMoXwPF9KGDGovfxGpaugdswXyYqqTqNnktWZOY4DOf3wzS0ezVVrhc8don2-fVBdA21cjfk8Bf-r0iXqswdZBbAyM3YPk/s1600/Screenshot-260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRu-99RYeQX4jsiaRRdRoLB34qwLDa1_UPXlBWvHf3seCWTMoXwPF9KGDGovfxGpaugdswXyYqqTqNnktWZOY4DOf3wzS0ezVVrhc8don2-fVBdA21cjfk8Bf-r0iXqswdZBbAyM3YPk/s640/Screenshot-260.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Kalya looks at me with puppy dog eyes, which have no effect on me.<br />
<br />
"Charles, I just want Verona to be happy like Victor is."<br />
<br />
"Victor is happy because he picked someone he liked. Verona will be happy if she picks someone she likes."<br />
<br />
"Verona can't be happy if she doesn't stay within this lifestyle."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCY3m3gG-NYpww5XOVfgKp27cGmcMgcop9Rk2Knju12HZz3L99di2CNB7S24f9PyrHd-fYecfpyidik8wOkLOiJwXLQFlgRhEfvO8m1a4SdzV2p5Fa6WrqBCjyee6AMOk6U-U52r8Yz_s/s1600/Screenshot-261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCY3m3gG-NYpww5XOVfgKp27cGmcMgcop9Rk2Knju12HZz3L99di2CNB7S24f9PyrHd-fYecfpyidik8wOkLOiJwXLQFlgRhEfvO8m1a4SdzV2p5Fa6WrqBCjyee6AMOk6U-U52r8Yz_s/s640/Screenshot-261.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I purse my lips and feel the cold metal of my lip ring touch my upper lip. I don't know what to say to her. When Kalya gets like this, it's very hard to get her to see sense. I don't know how many times I have to tell her that marrying outside of this lifestyle doesn't mean the lifestyle goes away. Verona's been working since she was sixteen. She's been in a few movies I've directed, and recorded some albums. She's working at the bookstore part time for something different other than the entertainment industry, but she still sings and acts when she feels like it. She has a lot of money in her bank account. I don't understand why Kalya thinks Verona is going to be poor. I don't think I can talk to Kalya any more about the matter tonight as it appears I have hit that point where it's like I'm talking to a brick wall, so I excuse myself with a kiss on her forehead. I pull out my cell phone because I want to talk to Verona, but I don't know where she is in the mansion. I know she always has her cell phone on her, though.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKLB70dTpPcXVjTPyYsjruNfHrft7hJhQzabSjSkGL3H3d8sE-yPdMQIrG5ZC8MlJYlH3-kdK5wIjfZhBME44oeVh31ELCmvUJ-_baPyxkq2CVFeRJQIS7Yxvch9EV87Q02T5ySCnTOg/s1600/Screenshot-262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKLB70dTpPcXVjTPyYsjruNfHrft7hJhQzabSjSkGL3H3d8sE-yPdMQIrG5ZC8MlJYlH3-kdK5wIjfZhBME44oeVh31ELCmvUJ-_baPyxkq2CVFeRJQIS7Yxvch9EV87Q02T5ySCnTOg/s640/Screenshot-262.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">BOOM! BANG-BANG-BANG!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Ha, take that, stupid pompous Marcus. </i>I'm pretending that the enemy bots are all Marcus, and I'm shooting him in the head.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">BUZZZZ-BUZZZ-BUZZZZ.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I hear a buzzing noise amidst the gunfire and explosions of my video game that seems out of place. I look at the floor and see my phone lit up. I've gotten a text.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Messaging Log From:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Charles Balestrom <830-555-6307></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Verona, it's Dad. Where are you? <span style="font-size: x-small;">8:30pm</span></b></i></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">In the audio visual room. <span style="font-size: x-small;">8:30pm</span></span></b></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
I pause the game because I think that the reason Dad texted me is because he wants to talk to me, and I don't know if I'd hear the door open above the sound. Sure enough, the door opens and Dad walks in. I run over to him and hug him.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8eREqWvbyeSCV7XpuWE1zrKgsu3N5QYMJb4Vy9srpahnJLs8j0m2-tVdLXtGSMg9w1nmC94LtpCULohyphenhyphenGNcMAro3Sdl7Le-uas474KaLVQHBuR7CSU-r8LU-IxIKjkblLt4Qo_qGL4f0/s1600/Screenshot-263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8eREqWvbyeSCV7XpuWE1zrKgsu3N5QYMJb4Vy9srpahnJLs8j0m2-tVdLXtGSMg9w1nmC94LtpCULohyphenhyphenGNcMAro3Sdl7Le-uas474KaLVQHBuR7CSU-r8LU-IxIKjkblLt4Qo_qGL4f0/s640/Screenshot-263.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Baby girl, how are you?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Pretty pissed off, to be honest."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"I had a talk with your mother, but she's gone to that crazy place of hers again."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I laugh for the first time that night. I love my dad so much.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"What happened tonight, baby girl?"<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4u_9CBvjzvJtq9SWixapdeyicqS7KdkRXpf3qNi50zBMjRH6DzyAfZ-kThBMsHejb0t7mtp1a7bG3IcjdsR6b9KjNK662W3hRt30KLolurEu_4dVfYo6Fs7RYpBTBdamzOlWzSCtM-DY/s1600/Screenshot-264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4u_9CBvjzvJtq9SWixapdeyicqS7KdkRXpf3qNi50zBMjRH6DzyAfZ-kThBMsHejb0t7mtp1a7bG3IcjdsR6b9KjNK662W3hRt30KLolurEu_4dVfYo6Fs7RYpBTBdamzOlWzSCtM-DY/s640/Screenshot-264.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Marcus was a complete pompous asshole. He really disrespected me because he told me we were a good match and that I couldn't possibly provide for myself outside of our social class."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Daddy shakes his head as I talk about Marcus' rude behavior. I feel myself clenching my fists.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"It's a shame some men still feel like women can't provide for themselves. Any news on your crush?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Has it really been that long since I last talked to Daddy about Camo? Or does it just feel like it's been ages because tonight royally sucked?</i> </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"I hope you're not mad, but I asked him to be my boyfriend a while ago. I just didn't get to tell you yet. I couldn't tell Mom because I wanted to tell you first, and then the whole thing with Marcus happened. I was able to tell him about this set up and he told me to go on the date and tell Marcus I don't like him."<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5gpoaLLPr8W7wUgGH7i9tZ4eNVZPLVJshc_TPqyo3fka6KSxhYRGmFX933RNqqJBInpdKIgNDoQBxAJCg0bWyOUD8SBN3aNhGV691h1BxYTHBjzceYFaYESXpTa_kvB7LlWzjIAJ-Hk/s1600/Screenshot-265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5gpoaLLPr8W7wUgGH7i9tZ4eNVZPLVJshc_TPqyo3fka6KSxhYRGmFX933RNqqJBInpdKIgNDoQBxAJCg0bWyOUD8SBN3aNhGV691h1BxYTHBjzceYFaYESXpTa_kvB7LlWzjIAJ-Hk/s640/Screenshot-265.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Oh, Verona, I'd never be mad about that. What's his name?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Camo."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Haha, that's a fun name. Marcus knows about him?"<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Yeah, I told Marcus I didn't want to date him because I already had a boyfriend. Then Marcus insulted him by saying he wasn't going to be able to provide for me. He insulted me by saying Camo was just a fling and that he'd be waiting for me to call on him once Camo dumps me. I had to exert an astronomical amount of self control not to kick his ass in the restaurant."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"That would have been funny to see, you in your nice dress, kicking Marcus' ass."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDuS73-mModbuN5Fqev6c9qeXwux3Nb339hV6Y-K6HagvfdwM3Womc_ONyIsaWE8TbyVLct4w4jwISw7RdTVnENdjQYsvqdyjGx1eCnoOS-In4cR7nlmWD0qca2jjjveL3HRrMrvA90mU/s1600/Screenshot-266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDuS73-mModbuN5Fqev6c9qeXwux3Nb339hV6Y-K6HagvfdwM3Womc_ONyIsaWE8TbyVLct4w4jwISw7RdTVnENdjQYsvqdyjGx1eCnoOS-In4cR7nlmWD0qca2jjjveL3HRrMrvA90mU/s640/Screenshot-266.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Daddy, what am I going to do about Mom? I feel like she's going to arrange a wedding to Marcus and sell me off like a sheep."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"I won't let you get married to Marcus. It will be all right, baby girl. Your mother is stubborn when she gets like this, but in the end, this is Simerica, and you are free to be with whomever you wish."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Thank you, Daddy. What is Mom's problem? Does she not like me or something?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"She's delusional sometimes. She likes you, but she can't show it correctly. I've tried to talk to her about stepping back and letting you make your own decisions, but she's always got that mental block that goes up whenever social status becomes the focus of the conversation. Unfortunately, I'm not really sure if we're going to be able to actually convince her you'll be fine until you prove it to her. Inviting Camo over might be a good idea. If Mom sees you interacting with someone you like and sees that you're happy, maybe she'll get off your case. Anyway, I'm sure Camo's a good guy cause I trust your judgment, and I'll always have your back. Oh, one more thing, you probably don't need to go on any more dates your mother or her friends arrange since you've got a boyfriend now. I'm sorry you didn't get to tell me sooner, we could have avoided this whole disaster tonight."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"I think Camo's coming over tomorrow afternoon, I invited him."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Perfect."<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
CREDITS: <ul>
<li><a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://zhippidyposes.blogspot.com/">Zhippidy's Custom Poses for Sims 3</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://mrsobsposemania.wordpress.com/">Mrs. OB's SimMania!</a></li>
</ul>
</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-26212525713857994382013-05-03T11:11:00.000-07:002013-05-03T11:11:00.754-07:00Chapter 25: Set Up<div align="center">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'm standing in front of my mirror getting ready for my stupid date with Marcus. I'm not trying too hard to look glamorous, rather just put together. I'm nervous for how the date could go because I don't know how he will react. I don't even know if Mother was telling me the truth when she said Marcus missed me, or if she's involved in some conspiracy with Marcus' mother. Avec des Glacons is a black tie only restaurant, so I chose a cocktail dress for the occasion.<br />
<br />
"Vah-roh-na!"<br />
<br />
I hear the annoying sing song tone Mother gets in her voice when she's excited about matchmaking getting closer to me. Ugh.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBV8XY3g5BnWAdXzgJ86cGQ7YifpjmY5u9CvA4kgjp66GEpJ9yVtsN5Ly4HO9dYWOktE3osydcoi4oYVQYJdSPx-wLl-PAXf2aiHs-ZQ3IPdFPoaim7qyIdsvHrQrXva9vH1oKI7VN9ZY/s1600/Screenshot-225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBV8XY3g5BnWAdXzgJ86cGQ7YifpjmY5u9CvA4kgjp66GEpJ9yVtsN5Ly4HO9dYWOktE3osydcoi4oYVQYJdSPx-wLl-PAXf2aiHs-ZQ3IPdFPoaim7qyIdsvHrQrXva9vH1oKI7VN9ZY/s640/Screenshot-225.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Darling, are you really going to wear those shoes? You should opt for heels. Put some eye shadow on! I can't believe you haven't even done your hair yet!"<br />
<br />
"Mother, I'm done with my hair."<br />
<br />
"Nonsense, Verona. It's all over the place. Here, let me help you with it. I'll make it into a more acceptable updo."<br />
<br />
<i>Fine. Whatever. </i>Mother takes my hair and wraps it into an uppity hair do which I hate, sprays me with entirely too much hair spray, and slaps some dark eye shadow on my eyelids. I am insanely irritated, but I decide that for tonight, she can have her own way. I don't need to get myself more riled up than I already am. However, this does not prevent me from rolling my eyes and giving her some attitude.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhhJLXkBCohhVQj75aehknI_0MsIHx1iF7U-I6F1CwKDlQItonBRFfIF_USAyCIvj7pt0hOPtmQN8i1_W5fELGp-av8bmCT1HhVhdit5wKmZ5h8LbpoMtIhLlTfJYJEOWZaOJWuSVJUM/s1600/Screenshot-226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhhJLXkBCohhVQj75aehknI_0MsIHx1iF7U-I6F1CwKDlQItonBRFfIF_USAyCIvj7pt0hOPtmQN8i1_W5fELGp-av8bmCT1HhVhdit5wKmZ5h8LbpoMtIhLlTfJYJEOWZaOJWuSVJUM/s640/Screenshot-226.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I make my way out of the bathroom, and Mother is right on me, as if she's afraid I'm going to trip and fall or something and suddenly become disheveled on the way to my room to pick different shoes. I find a pair of red pumps and slip them on.<br />
<br />
"There, Verona, isn't that better? Those flat hippie sandals you were wearing are not suitable for a date like this."<br />
<br />
"Mother, those are gladiator sandals and I love them. You make it sound like I'm going to my wedding."<br />
<br />
"Well... I hope something becomes of this with Marcus! Oh, honey, I'm so excited for you!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QF8WdUNP6KFFC_T1Tz-mc92vqNAvaijfdZ5KRoIw9zDtgonXom7FdPXtYZtPe39uEidgOUQh7ljXoZmBU-85A2b9JVPMc29hxWDdp8TfZWW12AFMYtvQaYjlZf48nAWXjJLK4bbtpeU/s1600/Screenshot-228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QF8WdUNP6KFFC_T1Tz-mc92vqNAvaijfdZ5KRoIw9zDtgonXom7FdPXtYZtPe39uEidgOUQh7ljXoZmBU-85A2b9JVPMc29hxWDdp8TfZWW12AFMYtvQaYjlZf48nAWXjJLK4bbtpeU/s640/Screenshot-228.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Mother claps her hands like an idiot and I close my eyes, picturing Camo's smiling face in my head so I don't scream.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Camo and Titanium stand in front of the Announcement Desk as The Leader smiles at them.<br />
<br />
"I'm very proud of you boys. You've gotten jobs yet you have been attending all of your classes. I'm glad you have mastered the art of time management. I'm arranging a retreat to Egypt next week for some of the more obedient residents, and I'd like to add you boys to the list if you're interested. There will be lots of relaxation involved, so you can cleanse your souls and take a break from daily life. Do you want to come?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_lO9xBVbLnbrk-l1G_v2-OpMn2H2GBPG1RagzochXDXSOgdlwFzMC-lPW9NKOSM7kjlsWkB7whRA0wx_k9s30mCrj_ynIJwLRMuETp-vqLB9buIu-R3U5vzph5DmtjYWrQ_gMNB0uUDA/s1600/Screenshot-222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_lO9xBVbLnbrk-l1G_v2-OpMn2H2GBPG1RagzochXDXSOgdlwFzMC-lPW9NKOSM7kjlsWkB7whRA0wx_k9s30mCrj_ynIJwLRMuETp-vqLB9buIu-R3U5vzph5DmtjYWrQ_gMNB0uUDA/s640/Screenshot-222.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo scratches his head and looks at Titanium. A retreat sounds like fun and so does a break from daily life. Titanium shrugs his shoulders. It doesn't seem like a terrible idea to him, certainly not one of the worst things they've been subjected to while living here. Finally, they decide.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfk3m0J_XRjfrOx7RyzumzW3F7ICwsRQgnA-ubufBPFotBjJkUkL4xFPLTXwfIDxOCZed7DnpwBR5kykifAKRc5FeEAd1zkDYZ2sZ1zIA-zRwc1NW8-fAoG0Chh7X9au3AXfe4uP77b8/s1600/Screenshot-223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfk3m0J_XRjfrOx7RyzumzW3F7ICwsRQgnA-ubufBPFotBjJkUkL4xFPLTXwfIDxOCZed7DnpwBR5kykifAKRc5FeEAd1zkDYZ2sZ1zIA-zRwc1NW8-fAoG0Chh7X9au3AXfe4uP77b8/s640/Screenshot-223.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCGYiByzjWB-TLjAPsh1LRCVkCeqZD_RazeetFNUHkAJgT19891nXd5W30ODIetZu2C-kM991HlK5V3GekNJZfILjrs239bCIVO0Eve3zleltpiwmFS87ybvQlqPf-l5s6N60Q5v0Wkw/s1600/Screenshot-224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCGYiByzjWB-TLjAPsh1LRCVkCeqZD_RazeetFNUHkAJgT19891nXd5W30ODIetZu2C-kM991HlK5V3GekNJZfILjrs239bCIVO0Eve3zleltpiwmFS87ybvQlqPf-l5s6N60Q5v0Wkw/s640/Screenshot-224.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Sure, Mr. Leader, sir. We'll go."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
"She's almost ready, Marcus. Thank you for waiting."<br />
<br />
"You're welcome, Mrs. Balestrom. Verona is definitely worth waiting for. I am pleased that she finally agreed to go out with me."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCEjR9BrwJhG2qSlUMKJMTVp6-Cgj78ckLvBFkjZla62u2E6xMf1ovHMofmPvvUbUjtdJuWUa1B4VZZtsPVTZ0tdpos561Yu85NW328KvAqmsCKnrotiuZg45Y3c3YFCLcDP5kFr0gJQE/s1600/Screenshot-229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCEjR9BrwJhG2qSlUMKJMTVp6-Cgj78ckLvBFkjZla62u2E6xMf1ovHMofmPvvUbUjtdJuWUa1B4VZZtsPVTZ0tdpos561Yu85NW328KvAqmsCKnrotiuZg45Y3c3YFCLcDP5kFr0gJQE/s640/Screenshot-229.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I come out of the restroom to see Marcus and Mother engaged in a conversation. He looks happy. Just my luck, he's probably got the same personality as Mother. I had hoped in a dark corner of my mind, that he was miserable with this matchmaking stuff. His expression makes him look as if he likes it. <i>Don't judge, Verona. He could just be putting up a front so Mother doesn't tell his mother that he 'behaved rudely.'</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0W7QinEZW15RfMKAolqU_t2dRQ2HsrggLDFQLpbTVOYhS7pSdsMwil_tHNRKgPDUMOgkZ1hFyjZLkvpxB8bhEyNRzuxT3P277b9UkjFCx4eeXa5rmQJIzeo5y6wqYQRJgGLxxLu1lCY/s1600/Screenshot-230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0W7QinEZW15RfMKAolqU_t2dRQ2HsrggLDFQLpbTVOYhS7pSdsMwil_tHNRKgPDUMOgkZ1hFyjZLkvpxB8bhEyNRzuxT3P277b9UkjFCx4eeXa5rmQJIzeo5y6wqYQRJgGLxxLu1lCY/s640/Screenshot-230.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
Marcus suddenly turns to me.<br />
<br />
"Verona. You are stunning tonight."<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Marcus. You look very nice too."<br />
<br />
Mother looks like she's constipated and I don't know why she'd think I'd say something rude to Marcus. I hate how she always thinks I'm going to do the worst.<br />
<br />
"Are you ready to go, Verona?"<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0dBKyCJvqJOkXKqSnzXM8Ti8eNc-AsPM2MnrC9dqn0pQgR5Nf-tP2eBB-nHz59dCyfKpR9IKWjldAvQS2IrDCY7VxJXS5JX-7sBein2vIkeY-MbNpq4M0zCuH28VXBImQpVGJlQ0908/s1600/Screenshot-231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0dBKyCJvqJOkXKqSnzXM8Ti8eNc-AsPM2MnrC9dqn0pQgR5Nf-tP2eBB-nHz59dCyfKpR9IKWjldAvQS2IrDCY7VxJXS5JX-7sBein2vIkeY-MbNpq4M0zCuH28VXBImQpVGJlQ0908/s640/Screenshot-231.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
At Avec des Glacons, we are seated at a table by the window. We sit there awkwardly because I don't really want to be there, and I don't know why Marcus is being awkward. I've ordered the Shrimp Ceviche, Grilled Lemon Salmon, and Raspberry Cheesecake. I get annoyed in my head when Marcus orders champagne for us. Why the fuck does he need champagne?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexkBgnFvf9amQ7uN0e0RKltmtJRZajXfBpP817xoF_oNKKuxqWsPEooXEO3fZa5qPCvm9aq937tOnnPUly00UyUJNx0CM2O3Zq4Yu7RMOAguj12bVOAszQuRQa8Nh8ZVs1ShYxi5nmtI/s1600/Screenshot-233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexkBgnFvf9amQ7uN0e0RKltmtJRZajXfBpP817xoF_oNKKuxqWsPEooXEO3fZa5qPCvm9aq937tOnnPUly00UyUJNx0CM2O3Zq4Yu7RMOAguj12bVOAszQuRQa8Nh8ZVs1ShYxi5nmtI/s640/Screenshot-233.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Thank you for coming on this date with me, Verona."<br />
<br />
"You're welcome Marcus. How have you been?"<br />
<br />
I ask him a polite question even though I could care less how he's been. I really wish he would just let me go because I'm not interested. Hopefully there's a good time for me to tell him that.<br />
<br />
"Honestly, not good. I'd been hoping we could go on this date earlier, and I've been missing you quite a lot."<br />
<br />
Perfect. A time for me to tell him. Our food comes and the champagne is poured. I need to be blunt, but not cruel.<br />
<br />
"Marcus, I'm seeing someone."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdA-cM_jTWysM9147lFexVITwnKQQPpPGN3Eac5Iakg1AlKibVqttuO1jqNlWIPMGNI3paFJ7qRXvEKq1qzwG6MWupiFKeKXfpPgOr0OQ-3ipT3NS49Pp5k7_FP36V4oQNjstdssfBeo/s1600/Screenshot-232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdA-cM_jTWysM9147lFexVITwnKQQPpPGN3Eac5Iakg1AlKibVqttuO1jqNlWIPMGNI3paFJ7qRXvEKq1qzwG6MWupiFKeKXfpPgOr0OQ-3ipT3NS49Pp5k7_FP36V4oQNjstdssfBeo/s640/Screenshot-232.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Is that why you didn't want to schedule a date with me when I came over?"<br />
<br />
"No, I wasn't seeing him then. The reason I didn't want to schedule a date is because I don't have feelings for you. I'm sorry."<br />
<br />
"Oh. I see. What is it about him?"<br />
<br />
"There's just a spark. I can't describe it other than instant chemistry."<br />
<br />
"You mean lust."<br />
<br />
<i>So that's how you want to play, is it, Marcus?</i> It seems like he doesn't believe in that kind of stuff, feelings, chemistry, connections. <i>No I don't mean lust, you pompous asshole with your hair all plastered to your head.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"No. I don't. I mean feelings. I have feelings for him."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsNj6iS3OpsZriKyGaMMNmT4HQJmMNcS5UpNCQyLw6mc3ywX4oVFS1HE6VSQcoesJa3U0gKAwSVQy467JeqvjPKP_F6qMT0Ftacf_jNuZBOQiTkXbJvZ1blb5I9QNC0YXR_e7Ii_9nHY/s1600/Screenshot-235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsNj6iS3OpsZriKyGaMMNmT4HQJmMNcS5UpNCQyLw6mc3ywX4oVFS1HE6VSQcoesJa3U0gKAwSVQy467JeqvjPKP_F6qMT0Ftacf_jNuZBOQiTkXbJvZ1blb5I9QNC0YXR_e7Ii_9nHY/s640/Screenshot-235.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"What university does he go to?"<br />
<br />
"He's not going to any university."<br />
<br />
I am starting to get really fed up with Marcus, but I know dinner is nowhere near over. This restaurant does three course meals and we're only on course two. I stare into my salmon, eating a large chunk I've slathered in the lemon sauce. At least I can take pleasure in my dinner because it is delicious.<br />
<br />
"What does he do then, if he's not attending?"<br />
<br />
"He works with me at the bookstore."<br />
<br />
Marcus laughs once, an obnoxious I'm better than him laugh and I want to do the soap opera move where the girl throws her drink in the man's face and walks away.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Dzk2XotJmhvHejmwOsFrlqg8vQ_b0JDULlkQowZNKNQJvTxLWvEzSzET7QFVpYlY7bMIO1Wx8lKwJhIv8wVtWwIp1kKS0V8ZMmiYtISRWNh7V7F66mwIXcGJVIXbZWYBoqmo8FDlrB0/s1600/Screenshot-234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Dzk2XotJmhvHejmwOsFrlqg8vQ_b0JDULlkQowZNKNQJvTxLWvEzSzET7QFVpYlY7bMIO1Wx8lKwJhIv8wVtWwIp1kKS0V8ZMmiYtISRWNh7V7F66mwIXcGJVIXbZWYBoqmo8FDlrB0/s640/Screenshot-234.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"What's so funny, Marcus?"<br />
<br />
"He'll never be able to provide for you properly with a job at the bookstore."<br />
<br />
"What makes you think I need to be provided for? I'm perfectly capable of providing for myself. I am a Balestrom, remember? That name is powerful in this town."<br />
<br />
"Yes, true, which makes me a better match for you. My family name is powerful too and we could rule the town together."<br />
<br />
<i>Rule the town? What does he think this is? Feudal England where people rule the land? He's delusional.</i> I don't even know what to say so I chug some champagne. Suddenly I'm grateful that he ordered it.<br />
<br />
"Verona, you really should watch your alcohol intake."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwqWxcwj_qPKMn8R5r3Xe_8XJoHN9rOTe1-IhdiDWBeGDmvnTUjyILoQo2DHJLKDT7zJTQsY56kSQi7tPFGEOuGIJxbSl_cWi37563g5_MapH4QEjPbSeVkKS0vskVKitby3IOivuigY/s1600/Screenshot-236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwqWxcwj_qPKMn8R5r3Xe_8XJoHN9rOTe1-IhdiDWBeGDmvnTUjyILoQo2DHJLKDT7zJTQsY56kSQi7tPFGEOuGIJxbSl_cWi37563g5_MapH4QEjPbSeVkKS0vskVKitby3IOivuigY/s640/Screenshot-236.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I'm sorry, Marcus, but I don't want to date you. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't see a future for us, even if we could rule the town together."<br />
<br />
"I think I'll let your little fling play out and then call on you again. We're a good match, darling."<br />
<br />
My blood boils as he refers to my Camo as a fling, the boy who I cried over when I thought he had left me, the boy who made me think of the word forever for the first time in my life. I grit my teeth and picture myself leaping across the table and punching that smug smile off the son of a bitch's face. After I've calmed down some, I ask him to pour some more champagne.<br />
<br />
"We're celebrating, Verona. Celebrating a match made in heaven. That's why I ordered the champagne."<br />
<br />
<i>I didn't ask you why you ordered the champagne, you jackass. I just wanted more because you're making me angry.</i> Dessert arrives and I am comforted slightly in the fact that this night is a few steps closer to being over. My raspberry cheesecake is amazing. I've stopped talking to Marcus because he hasn't asked me any more questions and he's obviously not understanding English. How much clearer can I be other than 'I don't want to date you?'<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jgbsj8wyxOG5gdGvrhd_IsE5-yYPNaH1y3Hrg2JBZKAocKWXLJbO08ZTopDOqHGHjDbyjkJdt5XjUe55kW4z7_EGq33qi4fCIsgGF-tLKdbtsnfwvHHV9qaofhn7XDImFTKPohR-DHs/s1600/Screenshot-237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jgbsj8wyxOG5gdGvrhd_IsE5-yYPNaH1y3Hrg2JBZKAocKWXLJbO08ZTopDOqHGHjDbyjkJdt5XjUe55kW4z7_EGq33qi4fCIsgGF-tLKdbtsnfwvHHV9qaofhn7XDImFTKPohR-DHs/s640/Screenshot-237.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
We eat our dessert in silence. I'm not sure why Marcus is so silent. Maybe he thinks he defeated me or something. After I finish my cheesecake, I chug my second glass of champagne. Marcus rolls his eyes at me for drinking. <i>Some boys would find the chugging sexy, you prude.</i> I'm so convinced he's not my type of guy since he talks the exact same way as my mother. Ugh. We wait patiently for the bill and I stare out the window at the cars. Marcus pays and we get up to leave. As he pulls up to the front gate of my house, he leans close to me and I lean as far away from him as possible.<br />
<br />
"Hmm.. no good night kiss, darling?"<br />
<br />
"No, Marcus. Sorry. Not now. Not ever. I thank you for the dinner, but please don't call me again."<br />
<br />
As I get out of the car, I hear Marcus say, "I'll be waiting for you, Verona. I know you'll call on me when he dumps you."<br />
<br />
I keep walking straight ahead towards the gate even though what I really want to do is punch Marcus in the face. When I get inside the house, Mother is waiting for me in the foyer with a stupid grin on her face. I can't say I'm surprised because she's been acting like Marcus is my soul mate.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixkT_OsLWjwdatc417YhTGusaRtXm8ADXcvOvMGC2f5q_W-w40jb9HFpXw3Fauf_ilrO44bXeBlOy8M6KhyC8dpfrz_lPXzDGcfiJSnO8rmGyEiaZvV9JLX3k-fz6imYv3RPenwZyAoQ/s1600/Screenshot-239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixkT_OsLWjwdatc417YhTGusaRtXm8ADXcvOvMGC2f5q_W-w40jb9HFpXw3Fauf_ilrO44bXeBlOy8M6KhyC8dpfrz_lPXzDGcfiJSnO8rmGyEiaZvV9JLX3k-fz6imYv3RPenwZyAoQ/s640/Screenshot-239.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona, darling? Why the long face?"<br />
<br />
"Why do you think, Mother? I don't like Marcus. I told you that the first time you brought him here."<br />
<br />
"Did you not have a good time?"<br />
<br />
<i>Is she kidding me right now? Did I have a good time? On a date with a boy I just told her I don't like. Um, let me think... yeah, of course. I love hanging out with people I don't like. It's great.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"No, I did not. He disrespected me the entire night. I would have thought a little propriety was the norm among those of our status, Mother."<br />
<br />
"He behaved improperly? How?"<br />
<br />
"Well, he told me that I would not be able to provide for myself if I didn't end up with someone in a high class position. I am perfectly capable of providing for myself, and I felt insulted."<br />
<br />
"Oh, thank heavens. When you said improper, I thought you meant he manhandled you."<br />
<br />
Once again, Mother is not listening to the words coming out of my mouth. I close my eyes and try my hardest not to scream or punch a hole in the wall. Behind me, I hear a doorknob turn and click as it opens. I hope it's someone I want to see because I could really use some good news right now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7mp3lq4W-wz6qsSpCVjrRq8hN77lFeaqBG7z5-tzxDDRPT9FrNHNAZCea419G0zPXG12o0VRmUOBR0CF04VrP-LtaSR2oI6RJRcZkBZG8CrqwQTEGm3zqS2daGKFS2EVu66Dlqv1ZmU/s1600/Screenshot-240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7mp3lq4W-wz6qsSpCVjrRq8hN77lFeaqBG7z5-tzxDDRPT9FrNHNAZCea419G0zPXG12o0VRmUOBR0CF04VrP-LtaSR2oI6RJRcZkBZG8CrqwQTEGm3zqS2daGKFS2EVu66Dlqv1ZmU/s640/Screenshot-240.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
</div>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-7227215257013331612013-04-30T13:43:00.000-07:002013-09-07T21:30:09.451-07:00Chapter 24: Phone<h2>
NOTE: MUSIC TRACK - PLAY IT WHEN IT SHOWS UP IF YOU WANT TO LISTEN - LATE`KNIGHT`SIMMER</h2>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<b>Did The Leader allow you to listen to music?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>Yes, although only music that had been pre-approved by him was acceptable. Working at the bookstore allowed me to hear different kinds of music that I actually liked better.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRpVE2DTbkUC9EJ_b9X0Z8O3mgp4icZ3cd5nLfVhWt9cvd2WODYVQTCO-_Mh9YfKmxuP0_qfR4N1EcXN87t6iHskrOHaXBlkWBTMNDbsiAgDdy5r_FbaMfEDZZxAr932FIYRlnNY7A8w/s1600/Screenshot-178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRpVE2DTbkUC9EJ_b9X0Z8O3mgp4icZ3cd5nLfVhWt9cvd2WODYVQTCO-_Mh9YfKmxuP0_qfR4N1EcXN87t6iHskrOHaXBlkWBTMNDbsiAgDdy5r_FbaMfEDZZxAr932FIYRlnNY7A8w/s640/Screenshot-178.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Mother and I are driving home from the country club. We played tennis for about an hour and a half, and then refreshed ourselves at the smoothie bar. At some point, I saw her talking to one of her uppity friends. I miss Camo, but I don't have his phone number. <i>Why didn't we exchange numbers?</i> The strangeness of that question sticks with me. <i>Come to think of it, I've never seen him pull out a phone, not even to check the time.</i> <i>Is it because he doesn't have a phone?</i> I guess I wouldn't put it past that place he lives to prohibit him from having a phone. I make a point to ask him about it the next time I see him, which luckily is tomorrow since it's Monday. I may be the only person in the world who likes to go to work, but it's only because Camo is there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0PbLR16-xKsw5e0U06-NMVaAiryhnA5TnUJEEUztb4jhMTm-MKMxKWgr2RcieHHMLvce0H9NQun1Fn7CzeKya68kQc0cU1j_f60pKoaKPLWYQtZP96Uhr9INhRZfgEMt0qF6dyt12vk/s1600/Screenshot-180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0PbLR16-xKsw5e0U06-NMVaAiryhnA5TnUJEEUztb4jhMTm-MKMxKWgr2RcieHHMLvce0H9NQun1Fn7CzeKya68kQc0cU1j_f60pKoaKPLWYQtZP96Uhr9INhRZfgEMt0qF6dyt12vk/s640/Screenshot-180.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona? Darling, did you hear what I asked you?"<br />
<br />
<i>Crap, I was so lost in my thoughts I had no idea Mother had even been talking.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"No, sorry Mother, I didn't. What did you say?"<br />
<br />
"I asked if you wanted to give Marcus another chance. His mother was talking to me today, and she said Marcus has been moping around the house because he really wanted to go to dinner with you, but that you two never scheduled anything."<br />
<br />
<i>No, no, no, Mother!</i> It figures that now when I'm actually thinking about a boy seriously, Mother would try to screw it up. She's so good at it, I don't know why I expected her to stop meddling. I'd hoped she had gotten some sense into her head since she's been treating Absolon so well. I try to be as polite as I can without telling Mother about Camo because I really want to tell Daddy first.<br />
<br />
"I'm not sure, Mother. Marcus was nice enough, but I didn't feel any passion or chemistry between us. I don't really see it going anywhere with him."<br />
<br />
"Can't you just go on one date with him? Your first meeting was rather abrupt, I think a dinner date alone with him will be what you need to get to know him better."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDuTkXfBVKlYPCUEmu3u8veEgMx0nAhLxZi-7W18MOsN2PoOlsi2iOgaJxarK-iRBJMrTer2mds8MA65d6TyFjObZ8ji_cFXSy-0ImWwl_aMiSPVDbWJTSiIVcsqIMw-DWsm14-a-CZTI/s1600/Screenshot-181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDuTkXfBVKlYPCUEmu3u8veEgMx0nAhLxZi-7W18MOsN2PoOlsi2iOgaJxarK-iRBJMrTer2mds8MA65d6TyFjObZ8ji_cFXSy-0ImWwl_aMiSPVDbWJTSiIVcsqIMw-DWsm14-a-CZTI/s640/Screenshot-181.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Mother, you are not getting the point. I don't want to get to know Marcus better."<br />
<br />
"Why not, Verona?"<br />
<br />
I can feel Mother getting as exasperated with me as I am with her. <i>Maybe I should just tell her I'm dating someone. No, that will go very badly because she'll start asking me about his place in society and what he does. There's no way I can tell her that I'm dating a boy who lives in a shelter. She'll freak out. Damn it. What do I tell her?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"It doesn't matter, Verona. Marcus' mother has already made reservations at Avec des Glacons, upon Marcus' request. You'll see Marcus at 7pm Tuesday night for dinner."<br />
<br />
I swear under my breath and tense every muscle in my body so I don't reach up and punch her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VfRU6JS1qX1JA5klUSgRevG6QdUkfhpMNKn0JK5mXS8_aC2B12j44aLCmZ1fCNjP1yblznuGn-vhPeCVtXk0enzJUML4211W9gbtuxteDKh5eE6yJXs3YYys4v1kp6xgRDOPHEvAWj8/s1600/Screenshot-179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0VfRU6JS1qX1JA5klUSgRevG6QdUkfhpMNKn0JK5mXS8_aC2B12j44aLCmZ1fCNjP1yblznuGn-vhPeCVtXk0enzJUML4211W9gbtuxteDKh5eE6yJXs3YYys4v1kp6xgRDOPHEvAWj8/s640/Screenshot-179.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Camo and Titanium are doing their weekly checking of the reproduction schedule to see if they're on it, and Camo notices his number is up again. He glares at the paper and storms away to their room. Titanium finishes checking the paper and doesn't see his number, so he follows Camo. He finds Camo sitting on his bed in their room, sulking.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"I don't want to do it, Titanium...I don't want to do it."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"I know. It seems wrong, doesn't it? What are you going to do? If you don't do it, The Leader will know something is up and you'll have to tell him about Verona."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRhmdhrj8-xL7W1jsZ1u2y4YkryydzVOzAWeGHlNxnsNRjqDOSQZsE52SF0WbPM1xR9SvcwbO63tl3HjJTR-OHYcXG_oVno_vt7ZtStofw11r1xlG897O1raTBwBvkjigszGFpWn2pM4/s1600/Screenshot-186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRhmdhrj8-xL7W1jsZ1u2y4YkryydzVOzAWeGHlNxnsNRjqDOSQZsE52SF0WbPM1xR9SvcwbO63tl3HjJTR-OHYcXG_oVno_vt7ZtStofw11r1xlG897O1raTBwBvkjigszGFpWn2pM4/s640/Screenshot-186.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Well, what I'm going to do is tell Verona about it, and then I have to do it. I can't let The Leader know that I feel this place is wrong, or he'll punish me. I just have to keep going like everything is fine."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Do you think Verona will be mad at you?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
"No, she won't be mad at me, she'll be mad at the situation."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
It's my last song before the store closes. I decide to play Payphone by Maroon 5.<br />
<br />
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KRaWnd3LJfs" width="560"></iframe></div>
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I'm at a pay phone trying to call home</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>All of my change I spent on you</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Where have the times gone, baby, it's all wrong</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Where are the plans we made for two?</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Yeah, I know it's hard to remember</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>The people we used to be</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>It's even harder to picture</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>That you're not here next to me</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>You say it's too late to make it</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>But is it too late to try</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>And in our time that you wasted</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>All of our bridges burned down</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQvfWewiAtAu9cFpgmw-yn_IVQWQYye32kpyGM5S9zv5Otfs8mn6KjPQtDmvedhndvZGrsNr8OH2t1giJz-8HcgpzahFmyHBEYJiInf9GbJt1f2i9tj6o0m17mKJOwReatRBNjR5qqOhQ/s1600/Screenshot-200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQvfWewiAtAu9cFpgmw-yn_IVQWQYye32kpyGM5S9zv5Otfs8mn6KjPQtDmvedhndvZGrsNr8OH2t1giJz-8HcgpzahFmyHBEYJiInf9GbJt1f2i9tj6o0m17mKJOwReatRBNjR5qqOhQ/s640/Screenshot-200.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I've wasted my nights</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>You turned out the lights, now I'm paralyzed</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Still stuck in that time when we called it love</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>But even the sun sets in paradise</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>If "Happy ever after" did exist</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I would still be holding you like this</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>All those fairy tales are full of shit</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>One more fucking love song I'll be sick</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Oh you turned your back on tomorrow</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Cause you forgot yesterday</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I gave you my love to borrow</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>But you just gave it away</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyPwrUdM6cGH6g0t7xKN3r0et-i4VQuPe4tUmLkNU4y8XswcVeLoiTsbNJBYi_lXPMCKAuROA4ZvUOUhjXQyewSnQo8upS0sy6Szfmqy6cAtS_Xt_cPnyl7LqJOateaVAfdYzftkifeM/s1600/Screenshot-201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyPwrUdM6cGH6g0t7xKN3r0et-i4VQuPe4tUmLkNU4y8XswcVeLoiTsbNJBYi_lXPMCKAuROA4ZvUOUhjXQyewSnQo8upS0sy6Szfmqy6cAtS_Xt_cPnyl7LqJOateaVAfdYzftkifeM/s640/Screenshot-201.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>You can't expect me to be fine</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I don't expect you to care</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I know I've said it before</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>But all of our bridges burned down</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Man, fuck that shit</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I'll be out spending all this money while you're sitting round wondering</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Why it wasn't you who came up from nothing</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Made it up from the bottom, now when you see me, I'm stunning</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>And all of my cars start with a push of a button</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Telling me the chances I blew up or whatever you call it</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Switch the number to my phone so you never could call it</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Don't need my name on my shirt you can tell it I'm ballin'</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Swish what a shame could have got picked</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Had a really good game but you missed your last shot</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>So you talk about who you see at the top</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Or what you could have saw but sad to say it's over for</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Phantom pulled up valet open doors</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Wiz like go away, got what you was looking for</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Now it's me who they want, so you can go and take</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>That little piece of shit with you</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>~ Payphone, by Maroon 5 ~</i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
After locking the front doors of the bookstore, I turn around and nearly collide into Camo's sexy body. Apparently he had been quickly making his way over to me. I'm so irritated about what Mother did to me yesterday, just telling me that I had to have dinner with Marcus. I feel like she ordered me around, like she's my commanding officer whom I can't disobey, instead of a loving mother looking out for her daughter. I don't understand her at all. I don't want to give Marcus false hope that we might have a future together because I don't want to be with him, but I don't know how to avoid the date without seeming rude. I'm not mad at Marcus for liking me, but I don't want to go out with him. It seems like his mother is just as meddlesome as mine is, considering she made reservations for us on his behalf. I can't call and cancel because then his mother will tell mine and I'll have to tell her about Camo before I've figured out how.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOARobOrcf8UGaWDB1KNwbw-3T845_KXQcXewtHARP9H88nfLeq5JpW1MYO5Q5XZ7EECz8Dxzj0yB_UZ8Nim8BIxu0OmX1iCIgBxMWA8knBNFzfh7mOL7weduDwd_vGfxpQY5rGdK86c/s1600/Screenshot-187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOARobOrcf8UGaWDB1KNwbw-3T845_KXQcXewtHARP9H88nfLeq5JpW1MYO5Q5XZ7EECz8Dxzj0yB_UZ8Nim8BIxu0OmX1iCIgBxMWA8knBNFzfh7mOL7weduDwd_vGfxpQY5rGdK86c/s640/Screenshot-187.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo, I'm having a really bad day."<br />
<br />
"Really? So am I."<br />
<br />
"I need to tell you something," we both say in unison.<br />
<br />
Then we laugh because we said the same thing at the same time. I love how just being around Camo makes me all giddy inside. I know talking to him will make me feel better even though it's not going to be a very pleasant topic. I wonder why he's having a bad day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbhXsraK3Z4oPRKyS51tXXgT2yl-IFtGq0CkZHhnMHi7zR__MmJvVymfaEUs1_h9ZiKfC5w4y0sHiA27l3bVbwynNT5ruaXdHYlIbzKtU9n0EA6MiunuRy-65R4_-NeKrO70Fxf2vt5yw/s1600/Screenshot-189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbhXsraK3Z4oPRKyS51tXXgT2yl-IFtGq0CkZHhnMHi7zR__MmJvVymfaEUs1_h9ZiKfC5w4y0sHiA27l3bVbwynNT5ruaXdHYlIbzKtU9n0EA6MiunuRy-65R4_-NeKrO70Fxf2vt5yw/s640/Screenshot-189.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo takes my hand and leads me over to the couch by the wall. He puts me on his lap and holds my hand, while he uses his other hand to rub my thigh. I can't even describe how good he's making me feel right now just by sitting with me. I really needed this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYF4Qlx1QBTGZrckS8ekxG-OaagmqMpm2j6kWjgNHX22jBiFLF340bcJywAFtWLFh2bf9Jsp9ehkw5pYQ5UVTvKHj_zATPH5DL0vKUXQ3ZZlzaGezTlnfPr7oAY33L0acLqGV1c2JwiCY/s1600/Screenshot-191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYF4Qlx1QBTGZrckS8ekxG-OaagmqMpm2j6kWjgNHX22jBiFLF340bcJywAFtWLFh2bf9Jsp9ehkw5pYQ5UVTvKHj_zATPH5DL0vKUXQ3ZZlzaGezTlnfPr7oAY33L0acLqGV1c2JwiCY/s640/Screenshot-191.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>How does he do that? He's making my heart beat a million times a minute, and all he's doing is being in my presence.</i> <i>It's like he's looking deep into my soul or something. Maybe I just feel that way because I love him.</i> I'm so distracted by Camo's eyes that I feel like everything around me has stopped, like we're frozen in time together. I notice his lips moving, so my eyes read his words even though I didn't hear them.<br />
<br />
"What did you want to tell me?"<br />
<br />
I take a deep breath to calm myself before I speak because I don't want to make him jealous, even though I know he understands that I love him and I'd never hurt him on purpose.<br />
<br />
"My mother set me up on a date with a boy named Marcus. Before I met you, my mother brought Marcus over to our house and wanted me to go out with him. I said no and then I met you. My mother went to the country club yesterday and she talked to Marcus' mother, who had made reservations for me and Marcus to have dinner together. I don't want to go out with him, I already told him that, but I guess he's persistent. I also told my mother that I don't want to date him, but she's persistent as well."<br />
<br />
I look into Camo's eyes to try to get a glimpse of what he might be feeling at the moment. He doesn't look upset, which is good. He's still holding my hand and hasn't made any sudden movements to throw me off him or anything.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje8PSF8I0tENCVndzLxw0huZkN8v12_oc_XZF2Zmu57yh_BXQlEeU-qKtzIXIhWG1bxTlvA_mJhbJKooFUSgMyQeWJtZtJc448QDPrdzlum2fFjWa_rCYH0OcsxZmzwPWilAuXO0Lqrys/s1600/Screenshot-192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje8PSF8I0tENCVndzLxw0huZkN8v12_oc_XZF2Zmu57yh_BXQlEeU-qKtzIXIhWG1bxTlvA_mJhbJKooFUSgMyQeWJtZtJc448QDPrdzlum2fFjWa_rCYH0OcsxZmzwPWilAuXO0Lqrys/s640/Screenshot-192.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Does your mother know about me?"<br />
<br />
"No, but that's only because I'm afraid she'll make me stop seeing you."<br />
<br />
"Why would she do that?"<br />
<br />
"She is obsessed with social status, you know, rich people and poor people? My family is rich, so she wants me to date a rich person. I want to date someone I love, and I love you. It's just a date, but I don't want to go because there's no point. I'm not going to give Marcus false hope or lead him on because I don't want him. I don't know what to do."<br />
<br />
I hang my head and look down at my legs, hating that I've been put in such a stupid situation. I don't know why I'm freaking out so much about a date. It's not like I'd been planning to do anything with Marcus. Camo squeezes my hand, comforting me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oF3vdD3CwAoCvLSeMJjhrTTQu1PHlJHuMFQ4vjinmceq3I8O-tV5VWwe-7H5Y7hbQYfkEmbac5Gt7hBVtKwAO_prUyR0-gs4JLrZGA1T_6AkBiaqIahXl12_oRQCB11OZ47e_9DnSUQ/s1600/Screenshot-193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oF3vdD3CwAoCvLSeMJjhrTTQu1PHlJHuMFQ4vjinmceq3I8O-tV5VWwe-7H5Y7hbQYfkEmbac5Gt7hBVtKwAO_prUyR0-gs4JLrZGA1T_6AkBiaqIahXl12_oRQCB11OZ47e_9DnSUQ/s640/Screenshot-193.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"You should go on the date, and tell Marcus that you don't like him. You can tell him about me and then maybe he'll leave you alone."<br />
<br />
Camo's words surprise me, but they make sense. If I go on the date, and tell Marcus directly that I don't like him, then I'll have satisfied my mother's wish. Of course she won't be pleased that I just told him no straight away instead of getting to know him better, but she can't argue with me as much if I do go on the date.<br />
<br />
"Are you sure about that, Camo?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah. I don't know if he will leave you alone, but you can at least try. Plus I know you aren't going to kiss him or anything like that. Ah crap, this makes what I have to tell you even worse. I got assigned to that stupid sex schedule again. I really don't want to do it, but I can't see a way out of it without the shelter finding out about you."<br />
<br />
It's my turn to squeeze Camo's hand as he hangs his head and stares into his lap. No wonder he was having a crappy day. The news makes me wish even harder that I could get him out of that wretched place. He looks so upset that I pull him towards me and hold him close to let him know I'm not upset with him in the slightest. I run my fingers through his hair and hug him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0nSTMvZmZEkOayZIqGTHhaMqEdDEkfBbypEh4X8Y0N7_EwZu2thERWxYgnzshmLsbfmvX1TFFAUXZyx1n1QZ0yth8FBf5wcbPFdRaz3MhB1a7Oz96hGAZUC6nHTfuJ-Wu9abfH1QGgE/s1600/Screenshot-194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0nSTMvZmZEkOayZIqGTHhaMqEdDEkfBbypEh4X8Y0N7_EwZu2thERWxYgnzshmLsbfmvX1TFFAUXZyx1n1QZ0yth8FBf5wcbPFdRaz3MhB1a7Oz96hGAZUC6nHTfuJ-Wu9abfH1QGgE/s640/Screenshot-194.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"When do you have to do that?"<br />
<br />
"Wednesday at 2 o'clock."<br />
<br />
"Why don't you come over to my house after you do what you have to and spend some time with me?"<br />
<br />
"You don't hate me because I'm not trying to get out of it?"<br />
<br />
"Of course not, baby. I don't want you to get punished. I love you, and I mean it."<br />
<br />
"I love you too."<br />
<br />
Sadly, it's time for him to go home now, so he gets up and smiles at me. I jump off the couch, throw my arms around his neck, and attack his mouth with mine.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhySqGBw37-F35I3EnkUX-p2hMu93bK-sLrR7YLYZNIGW0DzA2fqoAuBmpr3O8D9iINwqdYGUq1zMnTWgXKBZip5O3WIDLVwh2eKHQckOz4NEJe58s7yE8kLzhLQFfN4oYQFAz7gm0jSWE/s1600/Screenshot-195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhySqGBw37-F35I3EnkUX-p2hMu93bK-sLrR7YLYZNIGW0DzA2fqoAuBmpr3O8D9iINwqdYGUq1zMnTWgXKBZip5O3WIDLVwh2eKHQckOz4NEJe58s7yE8kLzhLQFfN4oYQFAz7gm0jSWE/s640/Screenshot-195.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
While we're kissing, I suddenly remember that I was going to ask him about his cell phone.<br />
<br />
"Camo, do you have a cell phone?"<br />
<br />
"I do not."<br />
<br />
Well, I guess that explains why he didn't ask for my phone number.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Later that night, Camo and Titanium were playing pool in the common area, when The Leader calls them over to the Announcement Desk. They don't really know why The Leader wants to see them, and they can't quite read the expression on his face.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifX4fOjkCbg2p1Fp2m_xJGAGJ5BROPSHlRXa_xL7XPxZ_9dIfbX5vrxyExb1pigso-8ySlfWL5a6FYJQurzD7Wg5ToZcXsdXj_NKf-X_aRUR4pR-QMwx6ufVhy_5ramcqjioHw7wUsaY8/s1600/Screenshot-202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifX4fOjkCbg2p1Fp2m_xJGAGJ5BROPSHlRXa_xL7XPxZ_9dIfbX5vrxyExb1pigso-8ySlfWL5a6FYJQurzD7Wg5ToZcXsdXj_NKf-X_aRUR4pR-QMwx6ufVhy_5ramcqjioHw7wUsaY8/s640/Screenshot-202.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Credits: <a href="http://zhippidyposes.blogspot.com/">Zhippidy's Custom Poses for Sims 3</a></h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-82965840976916554242013-04-27T13:33:00.000-07:002013-04-27T13:33:00.047-07:00Chapter 23: Breaking CurfewBEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja0lfcOhpfHwNn4jnWXZf30x60CLbXCNJaKOgq1IMkLCiv1dac_e9MShLoUDvDAo4CD0AdAYK-pBJOBHzao9LUg4qRBdhaOKG41WlBEAJwjclhS0mu2MbjW4h5FQbrh7vzZnBApem7iwY/s1600/Screenshot-154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja0lfcOhpfHwNn4jnWXZf30x60CLbXCNJaKOgq1IMkLCiv1dac_e9MShLoUDvDAo4CD0AdAYK-pBJOBHzao9LUg4qRBdhaOKG41WlBEAJwjclhS0mu2MbjW4h5FQbrh7vzZnBApem7iwY/s640/Screenshot-154.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo stirs to an alarm clock going off. It's 2am. He opens his eyes and sees Verona's head next to his. He smiles, and she moves, also waking up to the noise in her room. Camo swings his feet over the side of the bed and puts his swim trunks and tshirt back on. Verona throws on some shorts and a tank top and shuts off her alarm. She takes Camo's hand and leads him back outside to her car. Before she can get into the car, Camo grabs her and kisses her hard, like he doesn't want to leave and wants to remember this moment forever.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxVz3enjRp3dqNC2IJv5uZlC84-qrnRaabWZ2x1KP3jEPF2JJB6-Zv4JqmlW51K_fWrFTnXpEqhbEpSILLMicVuZRk5yotIWJ_0W_I4DJS_g2OFIBTpmCzP2Wf1DAy4XRikbizq2YHl0/s1600/Screenshot-153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxVz3enjRp3dqNC2IJv5uZlC84-qrnRaabWZ2x1KP3jEPF2JJB6-Zv4JqmlW51K_fWrFTnXpEqhbEpSILLMicVuZRk5yotIWJ_0W_I4DJS_g2OFIBTpmCzP2Wf1DAy4XRikbizq2YHl0/s640/Screenshot-153.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Titanium looks out the window of The Compound's front door, keeping an eye out for Camo so he can let him in. He's been home since Absolon dropped him off at 9pm. He knew Camo went to the beach, but he didn't know when Camo would be back. Titanium had hoped Camo would be back before him because he's scared of being the lookout for their first time breaking curfew. He's not very confident of his skills at sneaking around, but he's sure Camo would be very good at it. He tried to sleep for a little while after he got back from his date, but he only managed four hours of actual sleep before waking up. He stayed in his room for an hour before his worries got the best of him. He's been standing by the front door for about thirty minutes. <i>Camo, where are you, dude? Oh thank god.</i> Titanium is relieved when he sees a boy in an orange shirt get out of a blue car and run up to the door. It's Camo. He quickly opens the front door and Camo comes inside.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnwNqEpb7ByoMx_I4hdAiO589AWTD7ZIz-SEFmpLj-8NltLDVF4qZr99xtYmjkvDilk96DUxIAhQHincrMcqUYUew5eiTPEKNU1gnhn11Cks-jCX4jDJYqBGksxb8PuSfpFmXQ4O-8Rw/s1600/Screenshot-155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnwNqEpb7ByoMx_I4hdAiO589AWTD7ZIz-SEFmpLj-8NltLDVF4qZr99xtYmjkvDilk96DUxIAhQHincrMcqUYUew5eiTPEKNU1gnhn11Cks-jCX4jDJYqBGksxb8PuSfpFmXQ4O-8Rw/s640/Screenshot-155.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo and Titanium hurriedly walk back to their room. The hallways are dark and not a soul is awake, much to the relief of both of the boys. Even though they're both smiling, they are still scared of what would happen if they got caught. Camo's still thinking about Verona, and Titanium is glad Camo made it back before 6am.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2rHoPQPcqeHJ2deIZC4GsGulKFiVaRj20b_B1KKRulgQeRRxz_oJdZsi0ZYZjh7TrlBVMXaw8KPHimGEIpKhd05Ic1Z646By2nd80dRu-BvaXhq9LWyhAdPcdZ4lG3GBD1hRdlwmOE0/s1600/Screenshot-156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2rHoPQPcqeHJ2deIZC4GsGulKFiVaRj20b_B1KKRulgQeRRxz_oJdZsi0ZYZjh7TrlBVMXaw8KPHimGEIpKhd05Ic1Z646By2nd80dRu-BvaXhq9LWyhAdPcdZ4lG3GBD1hRdlwmOE0/s640/Screenshot-156.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo, you have no idea how glad I am that you are back. My heart was literally beating out of my chest waiting for you. I was really scared that we'd get caught, and then I don't know what."<br />
<br />
"Aw, dude. Thank you. You are so brave for being the lookout. Next time I'll do it for you so you can stay out."<br />
<br />
"Camo? Can we figure out a time to meet? I think I was more afraid because I didn't know when to expect you back. I couldn't sleep. I slept until 2:00am and then I had to get up."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, that would be good. Sorry we didn't do that before. Slipped my mind."<br />
<br />
"That's ok, let's get some sleep before class. I'm just glad you're back."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMnzcN9_ry8tB7lmwhkQ4pOsQj1FvcjUZhTC7FE_NMWKsox-NT8rms67V1wglmWOe3yug_-u-g_NQ5nxXNC7OKY1Vet7qDE1Z-1m2ndqsxrVi04Ej761f6pLy8V_vKs9yE2Pff5BYqi4/s1600/Screenshot-158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkMnzcN9_ry8tB7lmwhkQ4pOsQj1FvcjUZhTC7FE_NMWKsox-NT8rms67V1wglmWOe3yug_-u-g_NQ5nxXNC7OKY1Vet7qDE1Z-1m2ndqsxrVi04Ej761f6pLy8V_vKs9yE2Pff5BYqi4/s640/Screenshot-158.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAfAKlyCXhYpo4MyW7tGTZ9uxz_0jyUeB6X5sCkAQdqq2mM9TtEyVg4BNnURZTuKF0wfq5WQqSp1oWIn5NeA_2mDpjxIULyrqYlVLLVD-wh-6a50a5j3kCMlrf3ZPo50hcuK2j_1z_nY/s1600/Screenshot-159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAfAKlyCXhYpo4MyW7tGTZ9uxz_0jyUeB6X5sCkAQdqq2mM9TtEyVg4BNnURZTuKF0wfq5WQqSp1oWIn5NeA_2mDpjxIULyrqYlVLLVD-wh-6a50a5j3kCMlrf3ZPo50hcuK2j_1z_nY/s640/Screenshot-159.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<b>Did your perception of The Strangers change and did you ever break curfew?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
I was slowly starting to gain more trust in Absolon, especially since he was always trying to get me back before curfew, despite his hatred for The Compound. At first I was really grateful for him doing that because I knew he cared enough about me to make sure I was not doing anything I was uncomfortable with, but as time went on and we hung out more, I found myself not caring about the curfew and being more willing to sneak in like Camo did.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV5WG8BqgnbRUjSZ3siUOluOJETKjVWY0G8ZIU40miiLIpV4yqhUnNKBuGwatFiMg5L62rvyynGjeu43ShDuPJitYuxV2KCbr1bymwxCD05UwOXCDay8kX6t_1jKCvBCwWV-Ingzcbh3g/s1600/Screenshot-46+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV5WG8BqgnbRUjSZ3siUOluOJETKjVWY0G8ZIU40miiLIpV4yqhUnNKBuGwatFiMg5L62rvyynGjeu43ShDuPJitYuxV2KCbr1bymwxCD05UwOXCDay8kX6t_1jKCvBCwWV-Ingzcbh3g/s640/Screenshot-46+(3).jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I just dropped Camo off at his shelter. From the outside, it looks all right, it has fancy fountains and a statue. It's kind of ritzy for a homeless shelter, but I guess it's good they have money to take care of the facilities. It looks better on the outside than some of the other shelters around here, but I'm still unsure of all those things Camo has to go through, and I know I don't like them one bit. I wish I could get him out of there, maybe he and I could get our own place and be together forever.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZZsqPKWJd29K_tY7Fx57ize8cYg0maEFBnyxnrpS0HB_7NPGMYwxGrLFb6iG39MFiw8R7ejHgl65kk6p5tFBOti4x4NA4wYrGKh06xSn94pV3wt49spus2NeVyVP26BuNrhOmm1RaaY/s1600/Screenshot-160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZZsqPKWJd29K_tY7Fx57ize8cYg0maEFBnyxnrpS0HB_7NPGMYwxGrLFb6iG39MFiw8R7ejHgl65kk6p5tFBOti4x4NA4wYrGKh06xSn94pV3wt49spus2NeVyVP26BuNrhOmm1RaaY/s640/Screenshot-160.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>Whoa... forever, Verona? This is so unlike you.</i> I have officially just surprised myself with putting thoughts of a boy and forever in the same vicinity. I meant what I said to him last night, though, I love him. The thought of losing him made me feel like my world was ending. <i>Wow. How can this be?</i> I haven't known him for that long, and I love him? How does that even happen?<br />
<br />
"Good morning, Verona."<br />
<br />
<i>Blah. Mother.</i> I'm so not in the right frame of mind to talk to Mother at the moment. I swear if she asks me about another set up, I'll... I'll... sock her? <i>Sigh. I could never punch Mother, no matter how infuriating she gets.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"Good morning, Mother."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1kCJSu1rbUBLGkCZLJYQsFJqsZRcfZ83MOXaUyx9aRsKFfRpCWJ6QKaGHnjkCb5WLy8PDXqiKnYyuF00Kt3IHiYxYzDp-rlvDJUfBeA5IC3tQxrOVp0FxmdbGVbbu12g0g9Js4IiVNT8/s1600/Screenshot-161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1kCJSu1rbUBLGkCZLJYQsFJqsZRcfZ83MOXaUyx9aRsKFfRpCWJ6QKaGHnjkCb5WLy8PDXqiKnYyuF00Kt3IHiYxYzDp-rlvDJUfBeA5IC3tQxrOVp0FxmdbGVbbu12g0g9Js4IiVNT8/s640/Screenshot-161.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"What are your plans for today, darling?"<br />
<br />
Grr... I already don't like where this is going. I hope her plans for us don't royally suck. <i>Ok, what the hell, Verona? Stop assuming things. Daddy told you assuming only makes an ass out of you and the person you're talking to.</i> <i>Don't assume Mother is trying to piss you off, just talk to her.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"I'm making some dim sum and then I hadn't thought about anything past that."<br />
<br />
"I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me to the country club for some tennis."<br />
<br />
Surprisingly, this sounds like a wonderful idea to me. <i>See, Verona? Daddy was right.</i> I need to hit something to release this weird worrisome mood I seem to be in. Tennis would be perfect for that.<br />
<br />
"Yes, Mother, I'll go with you. Would you like to eat with me?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqlZlzKlYftDotLudB1faXpfOYm66Gaqa_e9Der3bDuJvNLwiPPGOPZRVOEZrPgJKtrhBVBXcy0szimbp2q76dl4lcQUcSeIefblQF8uuMmUDAXHjhQQT-JXUcZQWZXlznM86qHSHhq8/s1600/Screenshot-162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqlZlzKlYftDotLudB1faXpfOYm66Gaqa_e9Der3bDuJvNLwiPPGOPZRVOEZrPgJKtrhBVBXcy0szimbp2q76dl4lcQUcSeIefblQF8uuMmUDAXHjhQQT-JXUcZQWZXlznM86qHSHhq8/s640/Screenshot-162.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I pull the food out of the oven when the timer goes off, signaling that it's done. It smells so good.<br />
<br />
"Charles!"<br />
<br />
I smile to myself when Mother calls out Daddy's name. I always feel better when he's in the room. I sit down to eat and both my parents join me at the table.<br />
<br />
"This food is really good, baby girl."<br />
<br />
"Thanks, Daddy."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKTpsyzis3hBlpSm7bS2E551cVP7p_72VFeotYRJaPp9GqCbxO7odMrOBxDIjyvA3zWNt0Y7omQ3oKu82CPAxfhyphenhyphenLEM69yp1wSI7-1bDN9QLyidzTV2SDhpulOQMzDg7aMDUnOsOcahA/s1600/Screenshot-164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKTpsyzis3hBlpSm7bS2E551cVP7p_72VFeotYRJaPp9GqCbxO7odMrOBxDIjyvA3zWNt0Y7omQ3oKu82CPAxfhyphenhyphenLEM69yp1wSI7-1bDN9QLyidzTV2SDhpulOQMzDg7aMDUnOsOcahA/s640/Screenshot-164.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona is going to accompany me to the country club today. Would you like to come as well, Charles?"<br />
<br />
<i>Please say yes, please say yes.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"I would, but I already have plans. Sorry, darlings, I'd love to spend time with my ladies, but a new script has been sent to me and I'm going to visit the writer and look over it to see if it is something I'd want to direct."<br />
<br />
<i>Damn it. I'm going to be stuck with Mother all day when I want to talk to Daddy about Camo. No way in hell do I want to talk to Mother about Camo. </i>After breakfast, I put the dishes in the dishwasher and give Daddy a hug goodbye before he goes to his work meeting.<br />
<br />
"Verona? Are you ready to go?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, Mother."<br />
<br />
I roll my eyes, but I try to think happy thoughts as she drives us to the country club.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGRCrNTid72ZZurX4s5jlchUDEkxs2oNX7WAaLIA26bYPVROUNOKyMEyiuKSDL8SUdrFR9QIwmcuDvzHBRoSN6NMRoZuOhlicwYiDt9z344CZUPrYbdeGSx1x5QeiQlpkO76Jqm8sQWg/s1600/Screenshot-495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGRCrNTid72ZZurX4s5jlchUDEkxs2oNX7WAaLIA26bYPVROUNOKyMEyiuKSDL8SUdrFR9QIwmcuDvzHBRoSN6NMRoZuOhlicwYiDt9z344CZUPrYbdeGSx1x5QeiQlpkO76Jqm8sQWg/s640/Screenshot-495.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Titanium and Absolon have gone to the park together. They're having a picnic that Absolon made for them. Titanium is enjoying the sunshine and the fact that he's spending so much time outside. He's starting to enjoy the world for what it is and not letting The Compound's distortions of the world ruin his day.<br />
<br />
"Well, Titanium, I guess I can answer your question from last night. I'm sorry I got so annoyed when you asked me, but my family is very dysfunctional. Do you still want to know how I became homeless?"<br />
<br />
Titanium nods in between bites of his hot dog.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdW4IiQQxluRSJ2qzHmtztuTGVyDlcNBmvwIeE5lkqUUsnSgnJIkL28uDkzDueM3E_99OvykimRzYbd6vO2gL5WTK60gEM3kwByD6uDfOJMaa9lEPnwBqD4-6hzua0BRl2bfdPso2LPY/s1600/Screenshot-165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdW4IiQQxluRSJ2qzHmtztuTGVyDlcNBmvwIeE5lkqUUsnSgnJIkL28uDkzDueM3E_99OvykimRzYbd6vO2gL5WTK60gEM3kwByD6uDfOJMaa9lEPnwBqD4-6hzua0BRl2bfdPso2LPY/s640/Screenshot-165.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"It's a really long story and I probably won't be able to tell you all of it tonight. How much time do you have?"<br />
<br />
"I have to be back by 2am."<br />
<br />
Absolon looks at Titanium a little skeptically, although he's excited that Titanium seems to be all right with staying out past 10pm.<br />
<br />
"Are you sure? I can get you back by 9pm like you always want."<br />
<br />
"I'm sure."<br />
<br />
"Okay, well you already know how my parents used to fight all the time, and then my mom found some friends at The Compound, and things were getting better. My dad was still yelling at me, until my mom told him to go to therapy, and then he got better at talking to me. So I'll start from there."<br />
<br />
Titanium smiles at Absolon as he listens to his smooth voice tell his story.<br />
<br />
<i>I was sitting on the couch watching tv. Mom was at The Compound again at some meeting, she didn't really go into detail. I heard the door open and I looked up, happy because I thought it was Mom. When I saw it was Dad, I went back to watching my show. Usually if I stayed out of his way and didn't bother him, as he put it, I could have some peace and quiet.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtXH3Uudv_IrJ6e1bcrJX4w7rEm6YAcnlym0dYc0saIMY6NKQqZdjWldzytam_Xzrd0ihCfkT267jiswOWmuVPK0HHTvaqdoN6MBdRBK2O7Fz4E4XlmXaTxbJNJtSetp3pr9Dp1BpwMXo/s1600/Screenshot-166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtXH3Uudv_IrJ6e1bcrJX4w7rEm6YAcnlym0dYc0saIMY6NKQqZdjWldzytam_Xzrd0ihCfkT267jiswOWmuVPK0HHTvaqdoN6MBdRBK2O7Fz4E4XlmXaTxbJNJtSetp3pr9Dp1BpwMXo/s640/Screenshot-166.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>Strangely, Dad sat on the couch with me. I was used to him not even wanting to touch the same piece of furniture I was using, and he never watched tv with me, choosing to make fun of the show I was watching and calling me stupid for picking such a thing. I wasn't surprised that he chose the cushion furthest away from me because that seemed more his norm.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQ0DaJOxcMwYQPU1qApwBXGdtQsx29NpCfYeB81FbK3Sv8QUlzZZjGrvomu_JhU4QI9HExpUz079J4KpzsSjZ3aWqr4Huppf5ALd3C0qmypRHxODckH8i0aYXmPjOobsiiOS_dfavUI8/s1600/Screenshot-168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQ0DaJOxcMwYQPU1qApwBXGdtQsx29NpCfYeB81FbK3Sv8QUlzZZjGrvomu_JhU4QI9HExpUz079J4KpzsSjZ3aWqr4Huppf5ALd3C0qmypRHxODckH8i0aYXmPjOobsiiOS_dfavUI8/s640/Screenshot-168.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>I was laughing at one of the characters on the show when Dad suddenly laughed and tried to make conversation by making fun of one of the characters with me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"I can't believe she did that!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I wasn't quite sure how to react, so I didn't say anything, thinking he would just yell at me if I replied to him. I was even more surprised when he clapped his hands and smiled.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Wow, Absolon, this show is so entertaining!"</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ALhUavtR1u-ZogV6pnhI7CKJNVDjfSKzNB8YB61GLe5U_WE6QrbO_nwoSUI60GE22RXxqjnYlvgOekJvWDIYweNqy9bFBKLGkpfZ4pbrF98xcGwvLGmulv-v4MXgREcZkNspc89jywg/s1600/Screenshot-169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ALhUavtR1u-ZogV6pnhI7CKJNVDjfSKzNB8YB61GLe5U_WE6QrbO_nwoSUI60GE22RXxqjnYlvgOekJvWDIYweNqy9bFBKLGkpfZ4pbrF98xcGwvLGmulv-v4MXgREcZkNspc89jywg/s640/Screenshot-169.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i><i>Now I was really confused. He'd said my name without swearing in the same sentence. Something was definitely up, so I thought maybe he was high or drunk. I wouldn't put it past him to do drugs since he was such a jerk and he was obviously unhappy with his life.</i><br />
<br />
<i>"Dad, are you on drugs?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Dad scowled, which was what I was used to, and I thought for sure he was going to yell at me. That time I would have thought it was deserved because that was a rude thing to say to him. Instead he looked at me, the scowl disappearing from his face. He didn't exactly smile, but he didn't look angry either.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"No, I'm not on drugs. I'm just trying to make small talk because I never talk to you."</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfgI-52QgJ_Gm2l6RkHqYF6qwuiNxI0x-EcM20FVz1eOMcocX3DPpHJISIvnkuUVsV-pJgbK2mm_0tdCP5-YecQ8PQ6IYbvmAF5JdKJHphfqPDKhOvMSgceu1w8zs8VkKJ9WtfdK1mXI/s1600/Screenshot-170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfgI-52QgJ_Gm2l6RkHqYF6qwuiNxI0x-EcM20FVz1eOMcocX3DPpHJISIvnkuUVsV-pJgbK2mm_0tdCP5-YecQ8PQ6IYbvmAF5JdKJHphfqPDKhOvMSgceu1w8zs8VkKJ9WtfdK1mXI/s640/Screenshot-170.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Yeah, but you don't talk to me because you hate me. You've made that very clear. Why do you even care that you never talk to me? I'm okay with you hating me. It's been that way for as long as I can remember."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Dad sighed, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, thinking that he actually did look like he was sorry. I was still wierded out by his sudden change of attitude, but I secretly liked that he was making an effort. I just felt like I shouldn't make it so easy on him since he'd been such an asshole to me my whole life.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Look, Absolon. I'm sorry. I can't take back all that hate I threw at you, but I want to try to start being nicer to you."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I couldn't believe that he actually apologized to me. It was like the person sitting next to me wasn't my dad. He was looking straight ahead with a sad look on his face, like a puppy who'd just been kicked. I was stunned, and I'm pretty sure it showed on my face.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQxXEbBqiSJH7SXGgGORknldCPlD9me4kJ4yJGQAGI1f4jMI8mMuf5wS8hMVpiFFmstkEVvVNecNy1XlefOTA5QW57YTp6mbsFkSgGOl3jlg1vBx21frZzA72aMyp6vFZ2l5Urq29SjI/s1600/Screenshot-171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQxXEbBqiSJH7SXGgGORknldCPlD9me4kJ4yJGQAGI1f4jMI8mMuf5wS8hMVpiFFmstkEVvVNecNy1XlefOTA5QW57YTp6mbsFkSgGOl3jlg1vBx21frZzA72aMyp6vFZ2l5Urq29SjI/s640/Screenshot-171.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h3>
NOTE: From now on, Enigma and Andromeda's story line will be told through Absolon's point of view because it makes it clearer that they were supposed to be a flashback. </h3>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
~ Late`Knight`Simmer ~</h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-7436214139865089492013-04-25T08:56:00.000-07:002013-04-25T08:56:05.639-07:00The Compound Hits 1,000 ViewsThe Compound hit 1,000 views! Plus 37 more. While I was sleeping. YAY! Thanks, everyone for reading and commenting! Camo, Titanium, Absolon, and Verona thank you as well for being interested in their lives.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2x8oWXhGDH1AOgBhgZkIUhpGaa-WG3gbZ4NGWLvayg8wx7RfQPHVET70VJ4z5teox9hYRqXZt-g1-Rgq3Aa6sfT42kR_luIijp1u6RIdfURZRzcEA_bCj9QwC1E0kdg23ZVoUM4Mn6H8/s1600/Compound+Poses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2x8oWXhGDH1AOgBhgZkIUhpGaa-WG3gbZ4NGWLvayg8wx7RfQPHVET70VJ4z5teox9hYRqXZt-g1-Rgq3Aa6sfT42kR_luIijp1u6RIdfURZRzcEA_bCj9QwC1E0kdg23ZVoUM4Mn6H8/s640/Compound+Poses.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-5026033777189728752013-04-24T18:21:00.001-07:002021-03-21T23:28:28.657-07:00Chapter 22: Fear<div class="separator"><br /></div><h2 style="text-align: center;">
NOTE: Music Track - Play it when it shows up if you want to listen - Late`knight`simmer</h2>
<div>
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I watch Camo as he walks into the water, and I like that his shirt is getting soaked, although I wish it was white instead of orange. I follow once I feel I've ogled him enough, swim to where he is and then notice he's checking me out too. I'm glad the tennis I play at the country club seems to have fulfilled a dual purpose of keeping me fit as well as a way to take out anger. Camo smiles at me once I've joined him in the water.<br />
<br />
"What do you want to know?"<br />
<br />
"Hmm... I'm curious about that sex schedule. Why is that even a thing?"<br />
<br />
"I'm not sure, that's just the way it's always been since I turned eighteen. I get put on the schedule and then I have to do it, or I get punished."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO94_avrXIdeVxq9QYgN523frhUjvRgnnAx7rkWxMmVKkGMOTU0HTIXavVnmxDRFJtunFsy5bTUTuR7tm1S4hSTp58AU31TqDgBvpxV4gjz1elXD_8KjeOcBqt9oPeGmtz7YnY81u_5FY/s1600/Screenshot-122.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO94_avrXIdeVxq9QYgN523frhUjvRgnnAx7rkWxMmVKkGMOTU0HTIXavVnmxDRFJtunFsy5bTUTuR7tm1S4hSTp58AU31TqDgBvpxV4gjz1elXD_8KjeOcBqt9oPeGmtz7YnY81u_5FY/s1600/Screenshot-122.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm so confused because I've never heard of anything like that ever. I feel like it should be filed under a 'this is wrong' section of the universe. It sounds like some weird breeding experiment to me. I'm horrified that I thought that because now I'm thinking of my poor handsome boyfriend living in some testing facility.<br />
<br />
"Well, is it like, are those people supposed to be your girlfriends?"<br />
<br />
I wonder if Camo's shelter practices things like polygamy where they have to take multiple partners and have an allotted amount of children per person. Then I start thinking about inbreeding, and then I don't want to think anymore. Icky, although it soothes me that he's much too pretty to be the result of inbreeding.<br />
<br />
"What? No. I'm technically not supposed to have a girlfriend, in the shelter or otherwise. In the shelter, sex is just sex, there's no love attached to it."<br />
<br />
"How many people have you had sex with besides me?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIs9RqcpeJ7mrYgJcajyjyrgFiy7FznJ3Es4Fj-Fl7EQSB4Bcj2dR03Jz8feNGWBRhIK86krQsfRM3GF8Nk4x6ROjSXNgEiaMONejRfr-v2Nxhm2ADQbqGTUbj6BEyfSxoPZk4wM1WzRI/s1600/Screenshot-123.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIs9RqcpeJ7mrYgJcajyjyrgFiy7FznJ3Es4Fj-Fl7EQSB4Bcj2dR03Jz8feNGWBRhIK86krQsfRM3GF8Nk4x6ROjSXNgEiaMONejRfr-v2Nxhm2ADQbqGTUbj6BEyfSxoPZk4wM1WzRI/s1600/Screenshot-123.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Just one. A few months ago, shortly after I turned eighteen."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm not really concerned about how many people he's had sex with, since Camo wasn't my first partner either. I'm more concerned about STDs, and I'm trying to figure out how to ask him about that without it sounding like I think he's diseased, which I don't.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Is there some sort of hospital where you live? If someone gets pregnant?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Yeah, there's a clinic and a nursery for babies. There's doctors and nurses that tend to people who are hurt, and for pregnant women."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbrU9SOf7U3Yn1esCVbpSPBrTkUEBmisiqXjeEsBVgYkXUPFa3nftpdtIp5f53ixfDUcSd91B-Fd0aP0s0V4njUWuHAs3NattIodV3v_j_L46PYH_lGTL7b5yIzLhPV1bwNdVBgKkS_g/s1600/Screenshot-124.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbrU9SOf7U3Yn1esCVbpSPBrTkUEBmisiqXjeEsBVgYkXUPFa3nftpdtIp5f53ixfDUcSd91B-Fd0aP0s0V4njUWuHAs3NattIodV3v_j_L46PYH_lGTL7b5yIzLhPV1bwNdVBgKkS_g/s1600/Screenshot-124.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm relieved when I find out that it's not some sort of caveman like ritual to force sex on people. At least they have a facility that attends to medical needs. I still think the sex schedule is horribly wrong.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Verona? Are you sure you're all right? You look like someone kicked you."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"I'm worried about your shelter, Camo. A lot of the things that they do to you don't seem right."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Really? I knew I felt like things weren't right! I seriously hate it there. People always make me feel stupid and tell me I shouldn't be questioning anything, but I still do anyway."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
All of a sudden, I really want to be in his arms again. I start swimming to the shore, and he follows me.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGOsLfqgVzu3v7QHKh1E802jNfkzBVjFfUN1ROoRdIxafz08PkeNZXu3oKTzkAZmjD-a8LYajAtBDwYqb_syJCpysji32kb4QmJm9XohyjG5_w-V26wPOYo11w4BIpDGKYFB0_9emgniM/s1600/Screenshot-125.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGOsLfqgVzu3v7QHKh1E802jNfkzBVjFfUN1ROoRdIxafz08PkeNZXu3oKTzkAZmjD-a8LYajAtBDwYqb_syJCpysji32kb4QmJm9XohyjG5_w-V26wPOYo11w4BIpDGKYFB0_9emgniM/s1600/Screenshot-125.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When we get up to the sand, I almost dive into his arms, but he looks like he's going to ask me a question, so I stop and listen to what he has to say.<br />
<br />
"The first time I had sex, I hated it. I didn't like the girl at all. The shelter told me that I should have enjoyed it because liking the girl doesn't matter. When I had sex with you, I felt something different other than just physical pleasure. I can't describe it, but it was like I wanted to stay with you forever. What is that?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sLOvoO-fe9F5lWrEavXon0FzK4NtuO0GqBeo94OR20zUy1JR99glPAtBOR95EdrnjSRwkfX6axQHXdmV5bSfe6O4H5P0pgtOCLwt79hso9Cy2Nxqo4m1hGSeNYw8LhspLJ18LfpK14U/s1600/Screenshot-128.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sLOvoO-fe9F5lWrEavXon0FzK4NtuO0GqBeo94OR20zUy1JR99glPAtBOR95EdrnjSRwkfX6axQHXdmV5bSfe6O4H5P0pgtOCLwt79hso9Cy2Nxqo4m1hGSeNYw8LhspLJ18LfpK14U/s1600/Screenshot-128.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"That's feelings, Camo. It's romance. It's love. Do you know about any of that stuff?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Yeah, the romance sounds familiar. I'm taught that romantic feelings are bad because they only lead to sadness and pain. That's also why I'm not supposed to have a girlfriend."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"You're not allowed to feel love just because you might get hurt? That's stupid."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Camo opens his eyes wide like he's just had a revelation.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzq4huQoQcQnZY4IIbYYM3FK5L1C6OH0FOX8rvVLHaTalG4qeq-4zPTJJ2XzdQSFh0R5HdwxAeB7blhkQLUo_RzTdvSVhH6gX4JTX-w34DvI7eIygyIBn-4qwxfEZxCZpH-LGZT72YeBg/s1600/Screenshot-129.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzq4huQoQcQnZY4IIbYYM3FK5L1C6OH0FOX8rvVLHaTalG4qeq-4zPTJJ2XzdQSFh0R5HdwxAeB7blhkQLUo_RzTdvSVhH6gX4JTX-w34DvI7eIygyIBn-4qwxfEZxCZpH-LGZT72YeBg/s1600/Screenshot-129.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"That's exactly what I think! I knew I wasn't crazy! When I saw you on the beach as a teenager, I only saw the back of you, but I felt like I wanted to know you. I didn't know why, but then when I saw you again after I applied for the bookstore job, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I didn't understand why I felt the way I did, but when you asked me to be your boyfriend, I knew I wanted to say yes."<br />
<br />
I grab Camo's hand and we sit on the beach. The sun has gone down and the cool air against my skin coming from the water is making me a little chilly. There's nothing else I want to do other than be close to him. I'm thinking about what Absolon told me, 'I see how Camo looks at you. That boy loves you.' I think I may have fallen in love with him. I'm looking deep into his eyes right now and his lips are pulled back in that adorable smile of his. He touches my hand and puts his arm around my waist, grabbing me and pulling me close to him. He wraps his other arm around my waist as well and simply hugs me. I lay my head on his chest, hoping he'll never leave.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09Z-IbsZvH8B6vHP-7y15bSsfSckrgyNK2OVMjyyVyrhw83p1YY_dwfulLsvtEHswl5F8otXPbX8-aYo82AkxTFBpJD-0AGrWalDfQZfuOPTiCYIv5vVUkkY8bta-VBJi7JXsnwDsc5U/s1600/Screenshot-130.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09Z-IbsZvH8B6vHP-7y15bSsfSckrgyNK2OVMjyyVyrhw83p1YY_dwfulLsvtEHswl5F8otXPbX8-aYo82AkxTFBpJD-0AGrWalDfQZfuOPTiCYIv5vVUkkY8bta-VBJi7JXsnwDsc5U/s1600/Screenshot-130.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<i>I just kissed Titanium. Holy crap. I hope I didn't spook him. Sometimes he's like a deer in headlights.</i> Titanium looks at me, surprised at what I've just done. He doesn't look upset or scared, but he does look a little shocked.<br />
<br />
"Titanium? Are you okay?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah. That felt so nice! Will you kiss me again?"<br />
<br />
<i>He's so adorable, asking me to kiss him. Of course I will kiss you again, baby. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that, but you were always so timid and shy.</i> I'm thinking so much today because I feel like I've finally broken the ice between he and I, but I don't want to do anything to scare him. I knew that he liked being around me, but he was always really scared to open up to me. I put my arms around his neck and hold him close to me. I can feel his heart beating rapidly. I tilt my head so our noses don't smack into each other and press my lips against his.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSMaH5KddYnfCxzI-VnQpANYPGjPCJTj6W2Yvax7uI_SKVqw7TCu2a2tboa6aHmN8_57LPfu4DmtV05RNNppESZYt8dKPynXWBz2TG_36AHHCBryRX23cIdcfLwDAU7tzE2V4yBwRHcc/s1600/Screenshot-146.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSMaH5KddYnfCxzI-VnQpANYPGjPCJTj6W2Yvax7uI_SKVqw7TCu2a2tboa6aHmN8_57LPfu4DmtV05RNNppESZYt8dKPynXWBz2TG_36AHHCBryRX23cIdcfLwDAU7tzE2V4yBwRHcc/s1600/Screenshot-146.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
He exhales deeply and I feel some of his breath in my mouth. I start gently sucking on his bottom lip and then I feel him start kissing me back. He surprises me because he's actually a pretty good kisser for being so shy. I refrain from kissing him deeper because I don't know how he'll take it, but then I feel his tongue playing with my teeth. How did he learn to kiss like that? Obviously he thinks it's fine, so then I let my tongue do what I wanted it to in the first place.<br />
<br />
GRUMBLE-GRUMBLE.<br />
<br />
I try to ignore the sound of my stomach growling because I want to keep kissing Titanium, but I can't. I'm so hungry right now. I guess since we went to a 5:00pm movie, and it's now 7:00pm, I realize I haven't eaten anything since lunch time. Titanium's lips linger on mine as I pull away slowly. He looks at me with a concerned gaze in his eyes. I can feel him getting scared again, so I leave my arms where they are around his neck, and keep my face close to his as I look at him and smile.<br />
<br />
"Are you hungry, Titanium? I'm starving. Do you want to grab a bite to eat?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, sure that sounds good."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgkrf8boW87SxR7CjruCvhqAv93Zad5GPFeS2HyE3e8UwCL6p30SQjGmugCoR3T4Bzw-RKUkxaBD3CRHsLfFzcSirZyNRjDEk7Q-0O_LMzAfBu4wOSORT10_AdqTaM7U475DQfYOVehy8/s1600/Screenshot-147.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgkrf8boW87SxR7CjruCvhqAv93Zad5GPFeS2HyE3e8UwCL6p30SQjGmugCoR3T4Bzw-RKUkxaBD3CRHsLfFzcSirZyNRjDEk7Q-0O_LMzAfBu4wOSORT10_AdqTaM7U475DQfYOVehy8/s1600/Screenshot-147.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
We walk to the Silicon Shores Dessert Shop together. The lights of the city shine down on Titanium's blue hair and illuminate the subtle blonde highlights hidden among the blue strands. His hair is so pretty. I love how it hangs down in front of his face. It'll give me an excuse to touch his face when I brush his hair out of his eyes. I buy us each a combo meal and a SnowStorm ice cream dessert. We go and sit outside because it's a nice night.<br />
<br />
"Absolon? How did you become homeless? You said your mom was in The Compound for a while, but what about your dad?"<br />
<br />
"My dad's an asshole."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXilID0-mKQfmbGe5FEyNNuBx3Stx7FgbhU2Lq4LMyRo1Yu7yRvu82wi6KJ1cUgzTnnUxZG3N4SfTdzWZ9dYCSwHD5lhtjJAAUCC9_fp0Dc5R39r5TsSck7E5z-4GUarlko_FcvdqJKM/s1600/Screenshot-150.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXilID0-mKQfmbGe5FEyNNuBx3Stx7FgbhU2Lq4LMyRo1Yu7yRvu82wi6KJ1cUgzTnnUxZG3N4SfTdzWZ9dYCSwHD5lhtjJAAUCC9_fp0Dc5R39r5TsSck7E5z-4GUarlko_FcvdqJKM/s1600/Screenshot-150.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I feel like I stunned Titanium with my voice because his eyes opened wide and he's looking at me like he's afraid of me. Maybe it's just the natural low growl that comes out when I think of my dad. It's true that at one point, he did try to work things out with me, but it didn't last.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Camo feels happier than he's ever felt before with Verona in his arms. He's extremely glad that she was on the beach today. He wanted to find her and apologize sooner, but had no idea where or how to find her. He notices Verona move a little and ask him a question.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Camo, do you lift weights?"</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"No, but I do pushups and situps pretty much every day."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"It really shows, honey. Your arms are amazing. I can't get enough of them."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNAOu_uSFfzvSbBtRLZlElWtqrnizb_krKxWeiABDknD-MH1vEjRuAgRtp9ILLY31w6tyCoRmKl3P-s9WEDWXCYK4N4vUlLJ5GtN6b4x-ouFVYLHEnh3k9YjENNCVT71Bqe_OPjS1aDC4/s1600/Screenshot-131.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNAOu_uSFfzvSbBtRLZlElWtqrnizb_krKxWeiABDknD-MH1vEjRuAgRtp9ILLY31w6tyCoRmKl3P-s9WEDWXCYK4N4vUlLJ5GtN6b4x-ouFVYLHEnh3k9YjENNCVT71Bqe_OPjS1aDC4/s1600/Screenshot-131.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Verona rolls Camo's sleeve up, exposing his upper arm and tickling him. Camo feels a little turned on and wishes he wasn't wearing this stupid t-shirt. He hasn't noticed any other guys wearing shirts while they go swimming. </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Wow, that feels so good. How is that tiny little motion making me feel this much?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"I don't know. I like touching you, Camo."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Verona pushes Camo down on the sand, and puts her head on his chest. He tilts her head up and kisses her, playing with her hair. It's dark and Camo wonders what time it is. When he left this morning, Titanium told him he was going to be hanging out with Absolon today. Camo knows Titanium will be back by 10pm and he knows that Titanium won't report him. He feels Verona's hand under his shirt rubbing his back and he's more positive that he doesn't want to leave. Camo increases the intensity of his kisses, and the location of his hands move from her face to the natural curve of her hips. Verona presses her pelvis against Camo and he slides his hand under her swimsuit bottom, squeezing her butt. Camo feels Verona stop kissing him so he opens his eyes and looks at her. She looks worried again.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"What's the matter, Verona?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"It's late, don't you need to be back home?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Yeah, but I don't want to. I want to stay with you."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwt2liVL1sIEZiRPhXxunSI_COBNGWE3Y5QoAVr8EFpZegUfyv4TdnCQHPu4D5JryHExRy2Ylk_IsB8cQgZ4a6G7icTJJbzxV-D1QOo0zFwb7Ebqie7D3DwDaeqzUdhkKAVFb23dJbZhQ/s1600/Screenshot-136.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwt2liVL1sIEZiRPhXxunSI_COBNGWE3Y5QoAVr8EFpZegUfyv4TdnCQHPu4D5JryHExRy2Ylk_IsB8cQgZ4a6G7icTJJbzxV-D1QOo0zFwb7Ebqie7D3DwDaeqzUdhkKAVFb23dJbZhQ/s1600/Screenshot-136.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Verona gets up and pulls Camo up with her, never breaking physical contact with him. He touches her face, trying to comfort her because she looks terrified.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"I know, and I want you to stay as well, but I don't want you to get punished."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"They won't find out, as long as I'm back before everyone's awake."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"When's that? How are you so sure you can get away with this?"</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"People usually get up around 6am, and I'm sure because Titanium will be there. Everyone has roommates because they're supposed to tattle on each other. Titanium is my roommate and he's my lookout. He'll protect me just like I protect him. He won't tell on me."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Are you sure? I'm not willing to lose you again. I don't ever want to feel the way I did while we were fighting. I don't think I can deal with another scare."</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"You never lost me, Verona. I'm pretty sure I love you. I've always loved you, I just didn't know that's what it was, till you explained it today. I'm also sure I don't want to let you go tonight."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rtOvBOTyX00" width="560"></iframe></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Heart beats fast</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Colors and promises</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>How to be brave</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>How can I love when I'm afraid to fall</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>But watching you stand alone</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>One step closer</b></i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>I have died everyday waiting for you</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Darlin' don't be afraid</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>I have loved you for a thousand years</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>I'll love you for a thousand more</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Time stands still</b></i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Beauty in all she is</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>I will be brave</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>I will not let anything take away</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>What's standing in front of me</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Every breath</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Every hour has come to this</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>And all along I believed I would find you</b></i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Time has brought your heart to me</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>I have loved you for a thousand years</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>I'll love you for a thousand more</b></i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>~ A Thousand Years, by Christina Perri ~</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
Camo looks at Verona, and she has tears in her eyes.<br />
<br />
"You love me? I'm so happy. I love you too! Ok, you convinced me. We can go back to my house, and you can sleep in my bed with me."<br />
<br />
"Are your parents going to be mad to see a boy in your bed?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know, but I don't care. I need you to stay with me."<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwidqq0rxfKCMHSFzbdnmMBNzhMEAUu7S3vBItB7ffNTFkoR_CrSroGOjOMqIeLJTsG4PQ9GAJaBAovgkAnvO2JrzQL5acs2OlmjeTsJIrYytHrV_qD3jgfflCE5D-LKq7ji_Rtm3O4Ek/s1600/Screenshot-135.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwidqq0rxfKCMHSFzbdnmMBNzhMEAUu7S3vBItB7ffNTFkoR_CrSroGOjOMqIeLJTsG4PQ9GAJaBAovgkAnvO2JrzQL5acs2OlmjeTsJIrYytHrV_qD3jgfflCE5D-LKq7ji_Rtm3O4Ek/s640/Screenshot-135.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
Camo gets in Verona's car. He's never seen a car with doors that open like this before, from the top instead of the side. He smiles at Verona and puts his hand on her leg as she drives them to her house. He's in awe of how big her house is. The Compound is big too, but Verona's house is different because it's gorgeously well-lit and the rooms are large instead of tiny.<br />
<br />
"I don't have any clothes to sleep in."<br />
<br />
Camo realizes he doesn't have any pajamas to sleep in and his swim trunks aren't the most comfortable things on the planet. He notices Verona looking at him as he tries to figure out what to do.<br />
<br />
"Why do you need clothes?"<br />
<br />
Camo gets turned on again as Verona smiles seductively at him and strips her swimsuit off in front of him. She pushes him down on the bed and undresses him. She gets in bed under the covers, and Camo joins her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcPEehh7bpHwsNNVhARZHuMjcESB_Bq0XzU6jk3Hc6yHwnf2Oio9b9fKPVczlSSQqVsJgwPbqGz42Lse_OP6pEe67Qxwfy_Kk_-2tdLQbDpNrt6redip-XlzrvXgP6ZnjPT8JJEywvOA/s1600/Screenshot-138.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBcPEehh7bpHwsNNVhARZHuMjcESB_Bq0XzU6jk3Hc6yHwnf2Oio9b9fKPVczlSSQqVsJgwPbqGz42Lse_OP6pEe67Qxwfy_Kk_-2tdLQbDpNrt6redip-XlzrvXgP6ZnjPT8JJEywvOA/s640/Screenshot-138.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Verona, you are so sexy."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Verona smiles at Camo again and pulls her pillow over to his side of the bed. She puts her fingers in his hair and massages his scalp. He closes his eyes, enjoying the massage. He feels her tongue enter his mouth and he kisses her back, while touching her bare chest. She puts one leg around him and pushes herself onto him, moving up and down slowly. After they finish simultaneously, Camo holds her close to him and kisses her forehead softly as he drifts off to sleep.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
NOTE: This was sort of a continuation of the same day featured in Chapter 21, which is why there is no interview segment. ~ Late`Knight`Simmer ~</h2>
</div></div>LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-22944116057978168232013-04-23T00:04:00.001-07:002013-04-23T00:04:58.144-07:00Chapter 21: Subconscious<b>Was there any single event that got you to start thinking differently about your life in The Compound?</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilv3rXjsa4AHquU6tjGFTBs4W4Imh03AWK8Kn5uzlLhm-eff2jkN9s5Ri3bvUUhO6DpgpJq30rnUVIIj1766MWpx3e5yKeYbZGMg1YMDrsDBBReC1hUt3jiUpzSQ48DN4IinrQFZUZ3lk/s1600/Screenshot-313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilv3rXjsa4AHquU6tjGFTBs4W4Imh03AWK8Kn5uzlLhm-eff2jkN9s5Ri3bvUUhO6DpgpJq30rnUVIIj1766MWpx3e5yKeYbZGMg1YMDrsDBBReC1hUt3jiUpzSQ48DN4IinrQFZUZ3lk/s1600/Screenshot-313.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Getting that job at the bookstore definitely started me down the path to noticing new things and possibilities I never would have considered or even believed. I always had Camo to get me to think about things, but seeing them for myself was always more effective.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Titanium has become more comfortable with Absolon ever since he hugged him on their walk. They've been hanging out on the weekends whenever Titanium has free time in between classes. Sometimes Camo and Verona come along, but today it's just Titanium and Absolon since Camo and Verona seem to have had a fight.<br />
<br />
"Hi Absolon!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc30-wHLkQUgQ6TCo7-5NZzARTOrKsPOm3Oj2-6SWLJarIPG7zfVpTowHb5EnirxR3vubqyoGbB9g3fTiDNLxf3ffZH1hbsRdhZm5lBtyPUaQlgnDpvxaZGG9kL98f4zJRvGACoRl4uu8/s1600/Screenshot-127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc30-wHLkQUgQ6TCo7-5NZzARTOrKsPOm3Oj2-6SWLJarIPG7zfVpTowHb5EnirxR3vubqyoGbB9g3fTiDNLxf3ffZH1hbsRdhZm5lBtyPUaQlgnDpvxaZGG9kL98f4zJRvGACoRl4uu8/s1600/Screenshot-127.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Titanium's eyes light up as he sees Absolon waiting for him. Absolon smiles widely and waves at Titanium. They've decided to do something different today and go to a movie. Absolon is taking Titanium to his first R rated film. Titanium feels a twinge of excitement in his heart, and it shows on his face. He's smiling for the first time in a long time, he can't remember how long, and he's enjoying the environment they are in, even though he's just standing in line waiting for a ticket.<br />
<br />
"Two for The Campaign, please."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqkLIfxfh9tsRN28U5gGVnZGxp0pBaS3DKYcFdyxmuZgEbng-X-IANLj2FmD2AAP8NTPBM95D5nHi2chX4fNdVEQaTc23AB30guz4pVBR1QKQfit0P_rOoQ6pelXbNdwHOckXHAjLhyphenhyphenM/s1600/Screenshot-145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqkLIfxfh9tsRN28U5gGVnZGxp0pBaS3DKYcFdyxmuZgEbng-X-IANLj2FmD2AAP8NTPBM95D5nHi2chX4fNdVEQaTc23AB30guz4pVBR1QKQfit0P_rOoQ6pelXbNdwHOckXHAjLhyphenhyphenM/s1600/Screenshot-145.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Absolon buys tickets for him and Titanium and they walk to the inside of the theater to their seats. Titanium is in awe of the building because it looks so majestic to him with all of its fancy lights and high ceilings. The color is spectacular, he's so used to white walls and white floors with hardly any decorations. This building has posters on the walls that have their own lights, and he finds it beautiful. The boys seat themselves strategically in the middle of the theater since they've arrived a bit early so they could pick the best seats.</div>
<br />
"What do you think so far, Titanium?"<br />
<br />
"It's so big and beautiful."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLB9pt59j9EanUyvVoN0vV4YM0FvtkSTRdoZH4K-PGe9OkqW8gu0ARbcJtqsCDFexA30lH9M0YE5GzUJCA50pauiCWH5GQm4PxfLXpUiFQ7OXpx1J2xQzuAaWj8EfW5oNA7Uoqzlk6qY/s1600/Screenshot-137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLB9pt59j9EanUyvVoN0vV4YM0FvtkSTRdoZH4K-PGe9OkqW8gu0ARbcJtqsCDFexA30lH9M0YE5GzUJCA50pauiCWH5GQm4PxfLXpUiFQ7OXpx1J2xQzuAaWj8EfW5oNA7Uoqzlk6qY/s1600/Screenshot-137.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
People have been slowly filling the seats and the movie is ready to start. The lights dim down slowly and the movie screen shows a big sign that says <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Please Turn Your Cell Phones Off</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. Titanium notices Absolon pull out a shiny object that sort of looks like a walkie talkie, but it's different in that it doesn't have a big antenna or dials. He's never seen a cell phone before as he's not allowed to have one. As the movie progresses, Titanium feels Absolon's hand touch his arm and move down to his hand. Absolon intertwines his fingers in Titanium's and rests both of their hands on the arm rest that's between them. When the movie is over, Absolon and Titanium stand outside the theater talking for a little while.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Did you like the movie, Titanium?"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"It was loud."</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUk_lLhQWt_OTbxjJ8Hh6nv9weOBGnc7wIY2DGZmjS_iOwkvejZuJg-Lovd2w7V7I-KVnS_O4JE3MAxHRV_-vUAKXXc2fy7tGlwHbEtb70YRg6VI4TOlbBtF3bDMFdmomeqdzrmxaGWas/s1600/Screenshot-134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUk_lLhQWt_OTbxjJ8Hh6nv9weOBGnc7wIY2DGZmjS_iOwkvejZuJg-Lovd2w7V7I-KVnS_O4JE3MAxHRV_-vUAKXXc2fy7tGlwHbEtb70YRg6VI4TOlbBtF3bDMFdmomeqdzrmxaGWas/s1600/Screenshot-134.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
Absolon laughs and says, "That's the best part about a movie. You can get the whole surround sound experience."<br />
<br />
"I did like it though, it made me laugh. Thank you for taking me."<br />
<br />
Titanium won't say this to Absolon because he doesn't want to ruin the moment with any talk of The Compound, but he wonders why The Leader doesn't let him watch R rated movies. The movie he just saw was much more interesting than any of the movie choices he has at home. Titanium looks down at the concrete for a moment, and then Absolon's finger is on the bottom of his chin, gently pushing his face towards him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz7xyR1OKPeISyAZu8sWWx2-lR2PBm6lCbcx7LEDQQxYXIdr2_XiHen4SQZCKZTCFmb4JWltybNl54PkUSIpkYZeYoMRZzLJglCAkpHoJby7qnHsgOJBoZFn4PBcLUIsaQJ4vAwYGBI6E/s1600/Screenshot-133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz7xyR1OKPeISyAZu8sWWx2-lR2PBm6lCbcx7LEDQQxYXIdr2_XiHen4SQZCKZTCFmb4JWltybNl54PkUSIpkYZeYoMRZzLJglCAkpHoJby7qnHsgOJBoZFn4PBcLUIsaQJ4vAwYGBI6E/s1600/Screenshot-133.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Hey, you should look up more, and not at the ground so much. You have beautiful eyes."<br />
<br />
Titanium blushes and his heart flutters at Absolon's compliment.<br />
<br />
"Sorry, I'm just so-"<br />
<br />
Absolon's lips are suddenly on his, not too forceful, but touching enough that Titanium feels every point of contact from his face down to his toes. It's that electric feeling again, but this time it's so much more intense. He's shocked, but he likes what's happening.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwxmgwzzxYb3J5C9Us0oqTx23-8WfkJkQilz2V3WhzDXuRKuIALIfr50zlvxBDUEHeHpsP5S_1DekbPiv4x18qQkS0qIW-pdKJhWKeGBhbQo1ky1gVzptidK1eJopq3ACjb7ENriM8ss/s1600/Screenshot-132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwxmgwzzxYb3J5C9Us0oqTx23-8WfkJkQilz2V3WhzDXuRKuIALIfr50zlvxBDUEHeHpsP5S_1DekbPiv4x18qQkS0qIW-pdKJhWKeGBhbQo1ky1gVzptidK1eJopq3ACjb7ENriM8ss/s1600/Screenshot-132.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I'm a little nervous as I wait outside of the therapist's office. It's my very first session and I'm not sure what to expect. I hope the therapist is nice and that he or she isn't one of those people who uses provoking as a means to get patients to talk. I am well aware that I have a bad temper, and I'd prefer it if I didn't feel threatened today. I'm going to try really hard though because I love how Andromeda is these days. I almost see a glimpse of the girl I married so long ago, the girl I fell in love with. She's smiling so much more, and I feel like she's a lot less lost to me than she was a few months back. A little panel outside the therapist's office buzzes, and the receptionist motions for me to go inside. When I open the door, a lady greets me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuq85giUcTZ4a3OkVl3-PQ3ZisbrfdzKWUR9tZmEf5QwuPyhsnrWepTH3yRayzcpz3II9suum6HpNVTFY_vXU-9gGeK4hM4DZw9sDZDfmr1Q1HYPFj-vDqQ2n9swWTGeVqhGXC_xe0Rg/s1600/Screenshot-143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuq85giUcTZ4a3OkVl3-PQ3ZisbrfdzKWUR9tZmEf5QwuPyhsnrWepTH3yRayzcpz3II9suum6HpNVTFY_vXU-9gGeK4hM4DZw9sDZDfmr1Q1HYPFj-vDqQ2n9swWTGeVqhGXC_xe0Rg/s1600/Screenshot-143.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Hi Enigma. I'm Dr. Menios. How can I help you today?"<br />
<br />
I shake her hand as I tell her that my wife sent me here. Dr. Menios smiles and tells me to have a seat.<br />
<br />
"I have some unresolved issues regarding my son. I've never had a good relationship with him, and I'd like to see if I can start to build one."<br />
<br />
"That's certainly a very healthy attitude, Enigma. Let me start with the reason you have issues with your son. Is he a troublemaker that just won't listen to you? Why does he make you upset?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IIPn1GdHP4nYg1cddGLxMEYl9REhYFJp7INV270d-eBDPvzWmP8Bb8lsg9vi4RQIb6SmUgjdTUWNl9OFK5TzohI6EvNq2t___Nf-EA4zvl6Vy9QYbS52CvuoHdyiSBbVvVxvxwu3wmA/s1600/Screenshot-141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IIPn1GdHP4nYg1cddGLxMEYl9REhYFJp7INV270d-eBDPvzWmP8Bb8lsg9vi4RQIb6SmUgjdTUWNl9OFK5TzohI6EvNq2t___Nf-EA4zvl6Vy9QYbS52CvuoHdyiSBbVvVxvxwu3wmA/s1600/Screenshot-141.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I felt like my wife used him as an excuse to fix our relationship. She told me she had a void in her life after she lost her job, and I felt like she thought I wasn't enough for her, which hurt my feelings. She became really distant from me during her pregnancy and while he was growing up, so I felt like he took her away from me. I really love my wife, and the thought of anyone making me lose her angered me."<br />
<br />
"All right, let me see if I am understanding you correctly. You and your wife had marital problems, and she took your relationship to the next level, which usually causes more problems than it solves, and made you feel inadequate. Then you took out your anger on your son because you felt like he was the cause of your distance from your wife."<br />
<br />
"Yes, that's right."<br />
<br />
"Enigma, how old is your son?"<br />
<br />
"He's sixteen."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKBU1WMktx3GPgy0UF7qOdA22dHzixv3PC3oxe1FGzX4JoEhhSwjXrc5sEuiJBGi7Jde8dgbkK8P42VP6oehtmuYFNGYSVOwqkqhJSL-3nK_jCVf9AtlBp8WYlwjs5AMYsRticKz4IDY/s1600/Screenshot-139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKBU1WMktx3GPgy0UF7qOdA22dHzixv3PC3oxe1FGzX4JoEhhSwjXrc5sEuiJBGi7Jde8dgbkK8P42VP6oehtmuYFNGYSVOwqkqhJSL-3nK_jCVf9AtlBp8WYlwjs5AMYsRticKz4IDY/s1600/Screenshot-139.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"You care more than you let on. You know how old he is. There was no hesitation on your part when I asked you that question. Most parents who are actually detached from their children can't answer that question immediately because they don't bother to pay attention. I know you said that you haven't had a good relationship with him ever, but subconsciously, you care."<br />
<br />
I sit back on the couch and think for a minute about what Dr. Menios just said. I realize she's right. Maybe I'm just thinking in my head that I hate Absolon, even though my heart could be giving different signals, signals that I've never bothered to listen to until now.<br />
<br />
"I never thought about that."<br />
<br />
Dr. Menios smiles at me and jots something down on her notepad.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBAL2I9YojXy0T993RM_mWDlGKxF2m4vzybpyrP1GlRBUrN1Aj6LQah1FMB0n6ux8aGvNH8-Ivg0_kR80Mo60GAmJZE-oV8XL6tohMiXaXetMM5r1-2sViEf-o-l_zPBc6_WkWSH96OY/s1600/Screenshot-140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBAL2I9YojXy0T993RM_mWDlGKxF2m4vzybpyrP1GlRBUrN1Aj6LQah1FMB0n6ux8aGvNH8-Ivg0_kR80Mo60GAmJZE-oV8XL6tohMiXaXetMM5r1-2sViEf-o-l_zPBc6_WkWSH96OY/s1600/Screenshot-140.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I'd like you to do something before our next session, Enigma. I'd like you to talk to your son the next couple of days. I'm not expecting deep conversations, unless you feel you want to do that. Just say a few words to him every day, get to know him a little. He might be reluctant at first given your past with him, but he's probably wishing that you would like him. Every son needs a father's love, okay?"<br />
<br />
I smile and nod at Dr. Menios. I feel pretty good right now, and wonder why I've been so blinded by my hate and anger for this long.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div align="center">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'm at the beach, listening to the seagulls and the waves crashing against the shore, missing Camo with all my heart. Neither of us works today, so I probably won't see him at all. Daddy hires another crew to work the weekend shifts, while I hired my crew for weekday shifts. I jumped to conclusions the other day and I know I shouldn't have. I didn't really know what Camo was thinking. I shouldn't have assumed he thought the worst. I haven't had a serious relationship in a while, so I guess I'm out of practice at dealing with them. I just wanted to play, so I had a lot of flings. I am eighteen after all, it's the time to have fun. I guess Mother didn't like it because she hated all the 'low class' people I hooked up with and then she started heavily doing that medieval times matchmaking nonsense. Camo makes me feel different though, I can't remember the last time I'd been so sad after an argument. The norm would be my fling and I would fight over something stupid and I'd dump him. This fight has only been going on for one day, if that, and I've been crying my eyes out. It's killing me that he was so angry at me, and the thought that I hurt him makes the tears gush from my eyes like a waterfall. I know I'd be heartbroken if I lost him.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuoMrm2njF3ijq2fUR57-7WKJzNRdkfrYZb5KnM4QjbyWkwIvCIbGObvuCdaIF20BzskZLyY2wqg4haX0049IYoEjLBYk9atzZpBSOrDlwno5YKdDh-bppfWji7pfFgt3Djx-PRP_nJk/s1600/Screenshot-115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuoMrm2njF3ijq2fUR57-7WKJzNRdkfrYZb5KnM4QjbyWkwIvCIbGObvuCdaIF20BzskZLyY2wqg4haX0049IYoEjLBYk9atzZpBSOrDlwno5YKdDh-bppfWji7pfFgt3Djx-PRP_nJk/s1600/Screenshot-115.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Camo gives me butterflies in my stomach when he looks at me, hell, even when he's in the same room as me, I get weak in the knees. When he touches me, I can feel it not only on my skin, but in my soul. It's such a gentle touch, like an angel, and I feel so safe with him. I feel a tear rolling down my face again as I think of the possibility that he might not ever touch me again. The passion I shared with him the other night was better than all my flings put together. I guess it really is true, when you love someone, the sex is so much better. Oh crap, I do love him, and now he's gone. I'm glad I am alone here because my face is all wet now as I'm sobbing so hard. Maybe I should just go for a swim, then my face would be all wet and no one would know my heart is breaking. I'm crying so hard that I don't even hear the footsteps that approach me, but when the person talks, I know instantly who it is.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoUo8a4oLr0WDgI5Fl3cmZJcc66p5sY01OxOxw8JqY3rPnaW2aGpECUtmPYlsmISqV1LNqWioKTs-GU4rYBPz_9MTChiFKy-OhCZ8kPAyaouBWjdrm1sdKKOFppReYkGgqVbZLqdAArM/s1600/Screenshot-116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoUo8a4oLr0WDgI5Fl3cmZJcc66p5sY01OxOxw8JqY3rPnaW2aGpECUtmPYlsmISqV1LNqWioKTs-GU4rYBPz_9MTChiFKy-OhCZ8kPAyaouBWjdrm1sdKKOFppReYkGgqVbZLqdAArM/s1600/Screenshot-116.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona? Don't cry."<br />
<br />
"Camo? Holy fuck, I thought you hated me! I missed you so much!"<br />
<br />
I run to Camo with so much force that he almost falls over and hug him with everything I have. He regains his footing and wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly. He starts rubbing my back trying to comfort me.<br />
<br />
"I don't hate you, Verona, and I missed you too. I couldn't stop thinking about you and your face when I left work that day. I came to the beach because it reminded me of you, and since we don't work today I wanted to somehow be near you. I didn't know I would be so lucky to actually find you here."<br />
<br />
Holy crap, does he even know how romantic he sounds right now? I can only guess that since he's forced to have sex with random people that he has no idea what romance is, but he's doing it subconsciously. He must have feelings for me. I so hope that he loves me too. I continue crying uncontrollably into his shirt, the difference being that now there's a mix of happy and sad tears. <i>Why is he wearing a shirt with his swim trunks? It's not the 1900s. Ooh, who cares Verona? Focus! He's here and that's all that matters right now.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3B58-wqI-sRUxFfH2g1wtLQw3Mcu4amo5oL0X0uSMr7VBbJ6l8UVCSkFWwAX2Qy14Ep4uFxVk4mc_PBRAE_x4KbBKY8Jw7DQ-8js3FOYNl4KIDM3Zsy7zKOcOjfmUtR7CSkO1Z62awUM/s1600/Screenshot-117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3B58-wqI-sRUxFfH2g1wtLQw3Mcu4amo5oL0X0uSMr7VBbJ6l8UVCSkFWwAX2Qy14Ep4uFxVk4mc_PBRAE_x4KbBKY8Jw7DQ-8js3FOYNl4KIDM3Zsy7zKOcOjfmUtR7CSkO1Z62awUM/s1600/Screenshot-117.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Why were you so angry the other day?"<br />
<br />
I manage to spit out a few words in between sobs.<br />
<br />
"I'm so sorry I acted like that. I had a terrible morning, and I don't know why, but seeing Absolon get out of the car with you made me angrier than I already was."<br />
<br />
"Are you jealous, Camo? You don't have to be, I am not doing anything with Absolon. I like <b>you</b>, not him."<br />
<br />
"Jealous?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, when someone has something you wish you had, you get jealous of them. It can result in anger towards the person."<br />
<br />
I feel Camo start pulling away from me and the look on his face tells me he's confused. He looks into my eyes and scratches his head. I guess he really didn't know why he was mad at me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCE4OeawG_a3ofC-_TL62ulyU4Qok0PHpVVKVqpm1zvpJ_GYqYB1j5xIseMImt_nwNTUO2o2X30s6hWaKs6kZgaI8IEP2uB4gwptXGPdXVErcmP7Z_GLDCy0Xo4RaUpKVRs8rd7tZ8P4/s1600/Screenshot-118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCE4OeawG_a3ofC-_TL62ulyU4Qok0PHpVVKVqpm1zvpJ_GYqYB1j5xIseMImt_nwNTUO2o2X30s6hWaKs6kZgaI8IEP2uB4gwptXGPdXVErcmP7Z_GLDCy0Xo4RaUpKVRs8rd7tZ8P4/s1600/Screenshot-118.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Yes, I suppose I was. What you described is how I felt. I wished I was in your car with you, only because I like it when you are with me. When I saw your face after I yelled at you in the break room, I immediately felt bad, but I was too upset to fix it right then and there, not to mention I didn't know how to fix it so you would smile again. I am so sorry, Verona. Are you okay?"<br />
<br />
"I am now that you're here. I was so scared you weren't ever going to talk to me again. I thought I lost you forever, especially when you said that thing about me spying on you. I'd never spy on you."<br />
<br />
"Shit, I said that, didn't I? My shelter has really strict rules, and people are always tattling on each other. When I'm there, it's like everybody literally is spying on me, waiting for what I'm going to do wrong so they can go tell. It's made me quite paranoid. I <b>know</b> you would never do something like that."<br />
<br />
"Camo? Can I learn more about your life? I don't understand a lot of things that you tell me, and I'd like to try to."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, sure, but can we go in the water and talk? I love being in the water."<br />
<br />
Camo takes my hand and we walk into the water. I squeeze his hand to make sure I'm not dreaming, that he really did come back to me, and when he squeezes back, I'm sure.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik82Zer7_1V1q5xH9sJDO75tcNHSiD6Qf1E7EJUNv7s2DYi_kr4gTK_776uoFyd-ZdNZPXW7Eijix9xAsfNbEh2kYSc5kUnpPu4rojFxueAULTbYb0247JlQgvh-L5zz-S2m5_rNp9VJI/s1600/Screenshot-121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik82Zer7_1V1q5xH9sJDO75tcNHSiD6Qf1E7EJUNv7s2DYi_kr4gTK_776uoFyd-ZdNZPXW7Eijix9xAsfNbEh2kYSc5kUnpPu4rojFxueAULTbYb0247JlQgvh-L5zz-S2m5_rNp9VJI/s1600/Screenshot-121.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Credit: <a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-42777746339857751772013-04-21T01:24:00.000-07:002013-04-21T01:24:17.894-07:00Chapter 20: Misunderstood<b>NOTE: I rebuilt The Compound lot, so that it's one giant lot now. I got tired of adding onto the tiny house I bought for them a long time ago. I thought you guys might like to see the buildings I've done so far. All screenshots from here on out will be taken in this new lot.</b><br />
<br />
<h2>
<b>Silicon Shores Bookstore</b></h2>
<b>I only have an outside shot of this one. I kept the layout on the inside as similar as I could, except for a few windows, which I added on to make it look more like a store. The stage Absolon performs on is now blue tile because I couldn't get the platform tool to work. Sometimes I might use the street shot of the actual rabbit hole bookstore in Starlight Shores, so it might look different. There's a cool billboard on the street outside of the real bookstore.</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY5QJNSaxzf9x2tKjB-W4Kym9fOfP8RTlHIp2S7d61yx7EbQL7GSiuUW9yp6chRUMGrdzLrX18TF6NAI2ScpriBEYI102Ug3WRQ1-CsourraKUvV5cgg0Mxg0lR4OqZDGKHDK-O_P78tg/s1600/Screenshot-97.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY5QJNSaxzf9x2tKjB-W4Kym9fOfP8RTlHIp2S7d61yx7EbQL7GSiuUW9yp6chRUMGrdzLrX18TF6NAI2ScpriBEYI102Ug3WRQ1-CsourraKUvV5cgg0Mxg0lR4OqZDGKHDK-O_P78tg/s1600/Screenshot-97.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<h2>
<b><br /></b></h2>
<h2>
<b>The Compound</b></h2>
<b>Yaaay, NOT, burn it down! I had to move the sign to the other side because the pedestrian crossing was in my way and I was too lazy to go into Edit Town so I could move it. I also added more fountains, otherwise, the inside looks pretty much the same.</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLC_dluW8EJAHQG72YDY1A9TJLsgmUlWfVc2BEXaG0x2NibEzRYFG5sgdn0e5dAOnz5L9E0EdFqZXyoxuYAuS6O9sBRDmSfEkdGxeVuDCxj4OqhJKnAzx4Jg7CvN7MTLqqUilXDSpG3w/s1600/Screenshot-103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLC_dluW8EJAHQG72YDY1A9TJLsgmUlWfVc2BEXaG0x2NibEzRYFG5sgdn0e5dAOnz5L9E0EdFqZXyoxuYAuS6O9sBRDmSfEkdGxeVuDCxj4OqhJKnAzx4Jg7CvN7MTLqqUilXDSpG3w/s1600/Screenshot-103.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<h2>
<b>The Balestrom Mansion</b></h2>
<b>I have three pictures of this one. The first is the front gate that you have to drive through by interacting through the intercom. Love that you can see the Hollywood/Simlywood sign (as I like to call it) from their house. Now that I think about it, the red car looks more like a Lambo (short for Lamborghini FYI) than the blue one. *facepalm* If I change Verona's car later to the actual Lambo, that will be why.</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtMtzzRkPYb0ycDhJl7Z-cJRAn2eTJk3dSG0CYVbwmueHDriZWz3Wrods9WBV9ai6tIVMQoNgqJcU2ONorYQBJfD_o9jwLkoMtE65Rff1HUHVeOtoUihxO0dWDudz5CzXaiYlO80gPxQ/s1600/Screenshot-113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtMtzzRkPYb0ycDhJl7Z-cJRAn2eTJk3dSG0CYVbwmueHDriZWz3Wrods9WBV9ai6tIVMQoNgqJcU2ONorYQBJfD_o9jwLkoMtE65Rff1HUHVeOtoUihxO0dWDudz5CzXaiYlO80gPxQ/s1600/Screenshot-113.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<h2>
The Front of the Mansion</h2>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>This is the view from the carpark just inside the gate. It's the front of the mansion, with the pool on the right hand side. I realize it's not like a full blown mansion, but I only built the rooms I needed for now in the story which are kitchen, dining room, Absolon's room/guest room, living room, Charles/Kalya's room, Verona's room (which hasn't actually been shown in the story yet), and the pool. Again I tried to keep the layout the same. The dining room table has changed because I found something that looked more like rich people would own it.</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBnfzrwbJFi8BOdt0ES3e-qrWfomEfgMk8Q6c572G-5GPbh5BphPqGzhQlUXPqAeVoNPKYa7QKuN-xPKtDmJ3kYjZqWjrDqDkwpyv2pn9H_Tp6mxddAMf5_HsNsi_lV1de9paT4EMlcog/s1600/Screenshot-111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBnfzrwbJFi8BOdt0ES3e-qrWfomEfgMk8Q6c572G-5GPbh5BphPqGzhQlUXPqAeVoNPKYa7QKuN-xPKtDmJ3kYjZqWjrDqDkwpyv2pn9H_Tp6mxddAMf5_HsNsi_lV1de9paT4EMlcog/s1600/Screenshot-111.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<h2>
The Pool Area</h2>
<b>I completely redid the pool area because I hated it before. At the old house, I put the pool where there was space and crammed the mini bar, lounge chairs, and grill into an *itty bitty living space.* So now the pool is much better. It has a diving board, and space heater lamp thingys, which I love. The door there is to Charles and Kalya's bedroom.</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSONCJrH0ZhU_9JQrca-ejajeKCSqNiByOpFmbg_JjxtLjv82cdlyiZszshClziglVuO3eB5z5Lcueg9exwSnCz_R30yFRjMal99s1K2MDNZplegtpuHCIim7z1_QI4GCMAuqsbepUIE/s1600/Screenshot-112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSONCJrH0ZhU_9JQrca-ejajeKCSqNiByOpFmbg_JjxtLjv82cdlyiZszshClziglVuO3eB5z5Lcueg9exwSnCz_R30yFRjMal99s1K2MDNZplegtpuHCIim7z1_QI4GCMAuqsbepUIE/s1600/Screenshot-112.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>As for Enigma/Andromeda/teenage Absolon's house, I don't have that built yet only because I didn't have them in this chapter. Also when I do "teenage Absolon" I just change adult Absolon's hairstyle cause I don't want to have to deal with the different ages. That's why he's the same height as his parents. Just think of him as a tall 16 year old. LOL. Now, on to the story and thanks for listening to the new changes! I love you all and your continued support for this story!</b><br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b>~ LateKnightSimmer ~</b></h2>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<b>What was the point of having roommates?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
The Leader gave us roommates to make us think it was because he didn't want us to be lonely, but it was really so that there would always be someone close by to spy on us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphHT_a_krg2dSuQeHo7YY4nyC20o4N6coHdiJR1fSeaATlw2PPVVFVn8o4BDWYophwN-lmxvy9yZJJn5erPBc96Mr0WZ2d-cN2SdMCdRezV1iWUwvVNhgCD-TN1po4zpF5DxlI9b-3Yk/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphHT_a_krg2dSuQeHo7YY4nyC20o4N6coHdiJR1fSeaATlw2PPVVFVn8o4BDWYophwN-lmxvy9yZJJn5erPBc96Mr0WZ2d-cN2SdMCdRezV1iWUwvVNhgCD-TN1po4zpF5DxlI9b-3Yk/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
"Welcome, class. Today we are going to be talking about safety. This house keeps you safe. I realize that as adults you might feel like you are mature enough to go out on your own and do things for yourself, which is true to a point. However, you must always keep in the back of your mind that this house is your haven. You have roommates so that you will always have at least one friend here whom you can count on. If you aren't already friends with your roommate, we encourage you to become friends with them. Make them your ally."<br />
<br />
"Why do we always talk about safety? I get it already. The world is dangerous, so this house is the only place I won't get hurt. I'm not stupid, I remember what you tell me."<br />
<br />
Camo as usual is mouthing off to the teacher. He's annoyed that he's having to repeatedly listen to the same boring lessons all the time. His curiosity is getting the best of him and he wants to know more of the world besides the bookstore.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9BOd71jKliSetjdPveybFKgIUHtVJS8uymnOamZ-VlJKHcg4bDXiiyCl9PawZtafH8CjnFS-3LdV3rSNEVSKQPf3euukULON4C5zqyedo0O4VNb9iN4B3pS9mHNRNkhGWazaorGyF7lY/s1600/Screenshot-100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9BOd71jKliSetjdPveybFKgIUHtVJS8uymnOamZ-VlJKHcg4bDXiiyCl9PawZtafH8CjnFS-3LdV3rSNEVSKQPf3euukULON4C5zqyedo0O4VNb9iN4B3pS9mHNRNkhGWazaorGyF7lY/s1600/Screenshot-100.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo, I don't think you're stupid. I emphasize certain topics because The Leader has deemed them of great importance, and this is the lesson scheduled for today."<br />
<br />
"What is so wrong with taking risks? I feel like being safe is boring me to tears."<br />
<br />
"Camo, you need to stop."<br />
<br />
"Why? I hate it here!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7bsjEbGDQmfEKVLr72oY1cDZwvt8CZjyTNBvwk7tbJLEAm5HjgPPHoMLzY5GpnBBEx7cuhzFPyDDOnCoXL7qyON09yUuR4cof58VfLtf0ulO0wrDhyWFIq2gIWGGAOkZScfCch7RVZE/s1600/Screenshot-102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7bsjEbGDQmfEKVLr72oY1cDZwvt8CZjyTNBvwk7tbJLEAm5HjgPPHoMLzY5GpnBBEx7cuhzFPyDDOnCoXL7qyON09yUuR4cof58VfLtf0ulO0wrDhyWFIq2gIWGGAOkZScfCch7RVZE/s1600/Screenshot-102.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo! That's enough! In time, you will remember your gratitude to this house for raising you to be the fine young man you are today. Everything that you need is right here."<br />
<br />
After class, Camo and Titanium are going to work. Camo is pissed off after the class he just had. He's sick and tired of safety. It's not that he wants to purposely seek out danger, but he wants to experience life. He looks at Verona and sees that she's always fine when she comes to work, so it's possible for people to survive in it apart from The Compound. He knows there's always danger, and he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't scare him, but he still wants to take the risk. He's tired of just existing in the world, he wants to live in it. He needs change in his life, the monotony of Compound life is boring him to death. He wonders if Titanium ever feels the same way.<br />
<br />
"Camo? You're really quiet today, are you all right?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTY5NU0PabwBQKtvNW8fe52_RTpUL7dTM5XBRFOp42pbZerFWWMNpbDasvFYKf_3SOtQ8zC8jiqpQKb9WGFL3CimXMxDY7gEYnpx0kjyRxgfcT0se_dCug2pbmBEjImIHhdSLOeMMyixg/s1600/Screenshot-94.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTY5NU0PabwBQKtvNW8fe52_RTpUL7dTM5XBRFOp42pbZerFWWMNpbDasvFYKf_3SOtQ8zC8jiqpQKb9WGFL3CimXMxDY7gEYnpx0kjyRxgfcT0se_dCug2pbmBEjImIHhdSLOeMMyixg/s1600/Screenshot-94.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"No. I'm tired of being safe all the damn time, Titanium. I feel like I'm not living life. Like me being in the world is pointless if I can't experience any of it. That class really made me angry today. I want to do something different. Class, work, class, sleep, weekly gathering, rinse and repeat, is not my idea of life."<br />
<br />
"Hmm.... that's interesting. I am bored too, but too scared to say anything to the teacher about it."<br />
<br />
"Well, you don't have to say anything to the teacher, it's not like she's going to help us with the boredom. I mean, I like it that we work here because it's my only escape from that stupid place, but there's got to be more, you know?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah. What do you want to do about it?"<br />
<br />
"Are you saying you want to help me with this? That's such a risk, Titanium."<br />
<br />
Camo jokingly mocks Titanium a little for his unwillingness to take risks, even though he likes that Titanium may be starting to think for himself. He's still a little unsure about how he wants to fix his boredom, but he thinks Verona might be the key.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGVVGfr9mLLi6448nFiq7TvGiYn34C4SIM7p5PrBVf9fdh1ou5jp-je_JRp8zK0eMDgqID-Ghzvpj0Dgf80boLiVvaLKAny-pGGkxxJAnJFWNcBhlYRPnl-cN5LOyqTSpgaroOrszKXI/s1600/Screenshot-95.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGVVGfr9mLLi6448nFiq7TvGiYn34C4SIM7p5PrBVf9fdh1ou5jp-je_JRp8zK0eMDgqID-Ghzvpj0Dgf80boLiVvaLKAny-pGGkxxJAnJFWNcBhlYRPnl-cN5LOyqTSpgaroOrszKXI/s1600/Screenshot-95.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Yeah, I want to help. I've been scared my whole life, but I trust you, and I really had fun with Absolon the other day. I mean, I still had mental blocks, but I did genuinely have fun. It's not like anything I've ever experienced, and I want more of it."<br />
<br />
"You had fun with him? That's great, dude. I told you it would be fine."<br />
<br />
VROOM!<br />
<br />
Just at that moment, Verona pulls into the parking lot. She gets out of the car and Camo is happy to see her until he sees Absolon getting out as well. Suddenly he feels upset, but he doesn't know why. <i>I should be in the car with her, not him.</i> <i>What the hell? Why am I mad? I don't know, but I just am.</i> He thought Absolon liked Titanium, but now he's not sure. He thinks his anger may be residual from his sour mood caused by class, but all of a sudden he doesn't want to talk to Verona today. Camo storms into the store before Verona can greet him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfULeL9gLOUQHBiT4Hy6AIfm8Oy173SlyCU9lN7e7Y_d4v36XFa0FTQjirGrdwBON66P6QM3WoXNNU_SFxh1uqXY8MrcTkb-_6nkYqH7xZcEu-EGkuvKvVAQbB63EXTaOWa5ZzGIYfbM/s1600/Screenshot-99.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfULeL9gLOUQHBiT4Hy6AIfm8Oy173SlyCU9lN7e7Y_d4v36XFa0FTQjirGrdwBON66P6QM3WoXNNU_SFxh1uqXY8MrcTkb-_6nkYqH7xZcEu-EGkuvKvVAQbB63EXTaOWa5ZzGIYfbM/s1600/Screenshot-99.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Camo looks super pissed off today, I wonder what's wrong with him. The way he ignored me when I arrived is a little bit disconcerting. I don't know what I did to make him angry. He does look positively sexy when he's angry, but I don't like that I might have upset him. We had such a great time the other day, I wonder what changed.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Camo? Are you all right?"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Why do people keep asking me if I'm all right? Yes, I'm all right. Geez."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Camo walked away from me, and I can tell he's obviously not okay. I guess I should just give him his space since it sounds like he's having a bad day.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6fc4EPYZI1g1Hrw02gEfVQTYhhWSDfkR8LbbyG-SIRHEfwX4lBf37Uh6NpJuYwuunEdIQvuI6v-b6-BkkAazBWSauG-sd-Z2DLY3z-NGJGDMYpBECQ7popO4Wx4lZFJoVULOoAZJGqR4/s1600/Screenshot-104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6fc4EPYZI1g1Hrw02gEfVQTYhhWSDfkR8LbbyG-SIRHEfwX4lBf37Uh6NpJuYwuunEdIQvuI6v-b6-BkkAazBWSauG-sd-Z2DLY3z-NGJGDMYpBECQ7popO4Wx4lZFJoVULOoAZJGqR4/s1600/Screenshot-104.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A few hours later, I heard Camo talking to Titanium about Absolon being in my car this morning. Is that what he's mad about? He thinks I'm cheating on him? Oh, I need to straighten this out fast.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjAgHi4QkCCrcDQWPf1vpdJ3SJmMPysjrmO8QSzgMSG5ZkiYckg_LJ53x0Hn40wmledsmcu4xoeYDjuB5IAHNbIuxwvfLrPPy_XrKmGP3LSdJMHP7-9rLr_1h_BEv55Th61fAtZW8fuNk/s1600/Screenshot-96.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjAgHi4QkCCrcDQWPf1vpdJ3SJmMPysjrmO8QSzgMSG5ZkiYckg_LJ53x0Hn40wmledsmcu4xoeYDjuB5IAHNbIuxwvfLrPPy_XrKmGP3LSdJMHP7-9rLr_1h_BEv55Th61fAtZW8fuNk/s1600/Screenshot-96.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Um, Camo?"</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"What?!"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
He's still agitated, I don't blame him for it, but giving him space didn't really help, at least not yet. I'll just tell him what I figured out and if he's still mad at me, then I'll stop talking to him for the rest of the day.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"I heard you talking to Titanium, and I wanted to clear-"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"So now you're eavesdropping on my conversations?! Seriously, I thought I could be spared being spied on while I am at work! Obviously that isn't the case!"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiou1blyxD1vuaied7fvHq98ro7c3K4TQ0uFY1NiSQfWLPCB9Yn4DlfRaVlkEgWdm1Y8t5ybtadm9PjjqjhyPDaZSX5mbEpuqQlA1eFQF1axY3bs85_7GTIb2VzVtVupyo_24YImDq091o/s1600/Screenshot-105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiou1blyxD1vuaied7fvHq98ro7c3K4TQ0uFY1NiSQfWLPCB9Yn4DlfRaVlkEgWdm1Y8t5ybtadm9PjjqjhyPDaZSX5mbEpuqQlA1eFQF1axY3bs85_7GTIb2VzVtVupyo_24YImDq091o/s1600/Screenshot-105.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>Oh shit, I just made it worse. No, baby, I'm not spying on you. Damn. </i>Camo left again, and I felt uncomfortable because I wondered what he meant by he thought he could be at work and not be spied on... that night, for the first time, he left work without once looking in my direction.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Zinfandel has gone out on her own to the consignment shop, looking through the pretty clothes and artwork on display. She wishes she could wear pretty clothes like the girls she sees walking down the street, but she quickly pushes that thought out of her mind as she remembers why she needs to dress like she does.<br />
<br />
"Zinfandel! Why the hell are you not home yet?!"<br />
<br />
Zinfandel is startled by a gruff voice behind her. The Leader is there, and his face is red with anger.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, I lost track of time. How did you know I wasn't back yet?"<br />
<br />
"Zinfandel! Don't ask stupid questions! Your roommate said you weren't back yet! I was so worried about you! Don't you know you could get hurt out here after nightfall?!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJzW3muuno-uWDpcJpKjBZb5ZUJVYKoAFkSaAnWKWwT5vAsYa25M60RuXmKfTMoZ4rwpmpkzI87zKMnCcB1oMh2W1L6NxprNTEKxHAbNr6XhCAomJeIW07D__XWmEk5hHGR7iXyY5Ya9A/s1600/Screenshot-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJzW3muuno-uWDpcJpKjBZb5ZUJVYKoAFkSaAnWKWwT5vAsYa25M60RuXmKfTMoZ4rwpmpkzI87zKMnCcB1oMh2W1L6NxprNTEKxHAbNr6XhCAomJeIW07D__XWmEk5hHGR7iXyY5Ya9A/s1600/Screenshot-21.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Zinfandel feels embarrassed and stupid because she forgot to check her watch for the time. All she wanted to do was be a good resident, and now she's gone and messed up yet again.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, Mr. Leader, sir, I didn't mean to worry you. I didn't mean anything by it."<br />
<br />
The Leader's face becomes calm, and he smiles at Zinfandel.<br />
<br />
"I know, my daughter, I just got so worried that you had been hurt. You know I love you and want you to be safe. Come, let's go home."<br />
<br />
A look of relief passes over Zinfandel's face and her heart stops racing as she sees the acceptance in The Leader's eyes. She's glad she won't get put in Isolation again, and she likes that The Leader cares about her.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I can't stop the tears from falling as I drive Absolon and I home after work. It's deathly quiet in the car as I'm sure I'm making Absolon uncomfortable, but my heart hurts today and I'm not going to lie about how I feel. After we pull into the driveway, Absolon crosses over to my side of the car as I get out. I shut the door and lean against it, still crying.<br />
<br />
"What's wrong, Verona?"<br />
<br />
"I think Camo thinks I'm cheating on him with you."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHcjxlISRTjM93djT1PVTEIjkkJWM6OP3rqfMaWbe-rgJAEUKZvGW7Bq0kTPm-nfRSqs5QP4jb-nbG6zuuxgaaIKpxffTyzbfMOmndOgOO-n-7y9Ceh5ncc_1jN3wZZn9fYOP_3bIwaGA/s1600/Screenshot-107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHcjxlISRTjM93djT1PVTEIjkkJWM6OP3rqfMaWbe-rgJAEUKZvGW7Bq0kTPm-nfRSqs5QP4jb-nbG6zuuxgaaIKpxffTyzbfMOmndOgOO-n-7y9Ceh5ncc_1jN3wZZn9fYOP_3bIwaGA/s1600/Screenshot-107.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Why? Just cause we drove together?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, like he thinks we're living together or something since you used to be homeless."<br />
<br />
Ugh. I realize how stupid that sounds because technically Absolon <b>is</b> living with me, but not like <b>that.</b><br />
<br />
"He was so cold to me today, and I think I love him. It makes me so sad to think I hurt him."<br />
<br />
"Did you try talking to him?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCh9xXZvb6hVE-BbfXlIsFSCHTmkPq2WK57bAqR71o65qQ2aH0FEEY7DZh93mCye8vxJi7La1y7-aCxnkzKdSXo3HPpiiPHUOmZjtZpXMb0fGqXABRpm9G_TvdkwXqot7_q4RbPvkG9s/s1600/Screenshot-108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCh9xXZvb6hVE-BbfXlIsFSCHTmkPq2WK57bAqR71o65qQ2aH0FEEY7DZh93mCye8vxJi7La1y7-aCxnkzKdSXo3HPpiiPHUOmZjtZpXMb0fGqXABRpm9G_TvdkwXqot7_q4RbPvkG9s/s1600/Screenshot-108.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Yeah, but he kept brushing me off and didn't give me a chance to explain. He just kept either walking away from me or hanging out with Titanium."<br />
<br />
"I did notice that, I didn't really get to talk to Titanium at all today. Do you want me to talk to Camo?"<br />
<br />
"Thank you, but you don't have to do that. I need to work this out with him."<br />
<br />
Absolon gave me a hug and I continued crying on his shoulder.<br />
<br />
"It's going to be okay, Verona. I see how Camo looks at you. That boy loves you."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOV20DpqgTqLABCfZz_sEpSz7KAaoEZ0KEDvlXVU3vS1GmnzH-Wa6E_hSI34CbHOFyGTKgA61fkhUuzEB2RWgwsW78m3bAakKNVuDRtl7wA7Gke9XGOdy_Ro5DU_ZxRpTu6TboymGuadI/s1600/Screenshot-109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOV20DpqgTqLABCfZz_sEpSz7KAaoEZ0KEDvlXVU3vS1GmnzH-Wa6E_hSI34CbHOFyGTKgA61fkhUuzEB2RWgwsW78m3bAakKNVuDRtl7wA7Gke9XGOdy_Ro5DU_ZxRpTu6TboymGuadI/s1600/Screenshot-109.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Credit: <a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-63477751245166993042013-04-13T20:04:00.000-07:002013-04-24T11:51:12.780-07:00Chapter 19: Risk<h2>
NOTE: Music Track - Play it when it shows up if you want to listen - Late`knight`simmer</h2>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<b>We know The Compound used community gatherings to lure in new recruits. How did The Compound retain those new recruits?</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBTCYs6sXp3UEvrwJ43MbrSCeiR_tkwB5NVHzxDvhdtmWZsAOAeCHnl7QD7ksgrmNmi7-v8NOFi6JthR0QPWTrx0GFeD4J7c306v6ECYqlGmXHkOWNUwfDUacbJW5TyQRQDTXbf1-fWD8/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBTCYs6sXp3UEvrwJ43MbrSCeiR_tkwB5NVHzxDvhdtmWZsAOAeCHnl7QD7ksgrmNmi7-v8NOFi6JthR0QPWTrx0GFeD4J7c306v6ECYqlGmXHkOWNUwfDUacbJW5TyQRQDTXbf1-fWD8/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
The most popular ways were to become best friends with the new recruits and make them feel like they were being really supported and cared for, as well as current residents giving testimonials to make the recruit feel like The Compound really helps people.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I'm going to see my friends again at The Compound. Their names are Petunia and Abilene and they have been helping me work through my issues with Enigma. Both of them are single, but their advice works for people in relationships too. In general, I feel like their advice just makes sense for life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQntd1KfEOyD2MuOWCYWK_tEfwT-P5FVMakNtfZTT2J6Tu8MMrxenSeohDMKb8plJHgq_PlaFSq8mgcu7zkwVKRZifY_5yKHIMgiGbYzK2tfCRVqugmh4SGnApLfZjS00Nni3UO6z7c4g/s1600/Screenshot-490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQntd1KfEOyD2MuOWCYWK_tEfwT-P5FVMakNtfZTT2J6Tu8MMrxenSeohDMKb8plJHgq_PlaFSq8mgcu7zkwVKRZifY_5yKHIMgiGbYzK2tfCRVqugmh4SGnApLfZjS00Nni3UO6z7c4g/s640/Screenshot-490.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Hey Andromeda. How are you doing with your husband?"<br />
<br />
"Really good. I feel like I'm a lot less angry with him now. I'm thinking of asking him to go see a therapist regarding his attitude towards our son. I've also finally figured out he's not cheating on me."<br />
<br />
"Oh! That's so encouraging to hear, Andromeda! Abilene and I are so proud of you."<br />
<br />
"Thank you. He's hard to deal with sometimes, but I love him."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKtYe-uNJ_INwQ5qDcZyYp4DRO6KH2zBEWlx9RdDVICAOojIHU8-ORd_0aRYgXpAiweBBCInk_mMlmvAz_-F4l9YqJ53RX1aRSyNT1VHQohDUlrNUqwUIIJKL_HeE1SqQpPnq9x75djM/s1600/Screenshot-492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKtYe-uNJ_INwQ5qDcZyYp4DRO6KH2zBEWlx9RdDVICAOojIHU8-ORd_0aRYgXpAiweBBCInk_mMlmvAz_-F4l9YqJ53RX1aRSyNT1VHQohDUlrNUqwUIIJKL_HeE1SqQpPnq9x75djM/s640/Screenshot-492.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Relationships are so complicated, aren't they? I remember my last relationship. I was so in love with him and he was with me for a long time. Then I found out he was cheating on me with his secretary. He had been seeing her for two years. I didn't know what to think, so I blamed myself for not being good enough for him. I told myself if I hadn't become boring, he wouldn't have felt the need to go be with someone else. I developed an eating disorder because I thought if I was skinnier, maybe he would like me more. One day I came to a weekly gathering here at The Compound, and some nice people helped me see that I wasn't the problem. He was the problem. He chose to cheat on me, and it wasn't my fault at all. I felt so loved here that I decided to stay. It was for the best anyway because his secretary moved in with him into our old house."<br />
<br />
"Oh, Abilene, I'm sorry."<br />
<br />
"That's okay. I'm much better now, and I'm done with relationships. They brought me nothing but grief."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Verona's friend seems like a nice boy, although I still have my reservations about him. His appearance is one thing I am trying to get past. I have never understood makeup on men, it just seems improper. <i>Stop it, Kalya. Remember what Charles said. People aren't bad just because they're different.</i> I'm a little nervous about what his table manners will be like since he's been on the street and probably hasn't eaten at a table for a while. <i>Kalya! He's not a caveman! </i>The voice of reason that seems to have popped into my head ever since Charles talked to me about Verona is silently scolding me. We sit down to eat and I'm a little nervous.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPnYB3kyasNxYJtVhbFEC8omgBfkciuKDEBwd6D4rNWpdBjsJA3usDBqxtZGUvDFgeENJfCxwtPU6ArAJz5HJAYtr8dP5e7jm6vYWbLxBCRyfAt7Ot5b6BADwxoCO49j9ilKyflOuh2a8/s1600/Screenshot-488.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPnYB3kyasNxYJtVhbFEC8omgBfkciuKDEBwd6D4rNWpdBjsJA3usDBqxtZGUvDFgeENJfCxwtPU6ArAJz5HJAYtr8dP5e7jm6vYWbLxBCRyfAt7Ot5b6BADwxoCO49j9ilKyflOuh2a8/s640/Screenshot-488.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Thank you for letting me stay here, Mr. and Mrs. Balestrom. I really appreciate your hospitality."<br />
<br />
I'm pleased to see that Absolon is very polite. I see Charles looking at me as if he wants me to say something.<br />
<br />
"You are welcome, Absolon. What is it that you do? Verona says she hired you to do the entertainment for the store."<br />
<br />
"I sing and play the guitar."<br />
<br />
<i>See, Kalya? He's a normal person.</i> I am relieved that he isn't involved in dangerous things and my nerves calm down a little knowing that Verona is safe.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
"Enigma? I want you to promise not to get upset right now. I want to ask you a question."<br />
<br />
"I promise."<br />
<br />
"I'd like it if you went to see a therapist."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvI-9rN4XZri6W0yPjoWc0qlo5K6u3tWIRZBCVvNU0qVLrrBjsY05jDpBB6UHMwrwR6A3_2fP3DkI790selm-OoM9kOMfI5RpSuhEZ1showa9O3sH8hntPOU-3OoJPHzcpif4CLxqcD0/s1600/Screenshot-487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvI-9rN4XZri6W0yPjoWc0qlo5K6u3tWIRZBCVvNU0qVLrrBjsY05jDpBB6UHMwrwR6A3_2fP3DkI790selm-OoM9kOMfI5RpSuhEZ1showa9O3sH8hntPOU-3OoJPHzcpif4CLxqcD0/s640/Screenshot-487.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The past few weeks, Andromeda had been hanging with those friends she met at The Compound. She seems to be happier, so maybe it's good for her. Things have been going better in general because I finally convinced her I'm not cheating on her. I haven't stayed in the motel room since the day she visited because she hasn't been yelling at me nonstop anymore.<br />
<br />
"Ok. What would we talk about?"<br />
<br />
"Here's where I need you not to get upset."<br />
<br />
"You want me to talk to the therapist about my problem with Absolon, don't you?"<br />
<br />
I looked at Andromeda calmly as she nodded. She winced a little, I guess because she expected me to throw her out of my arms or something. Instead, I gave her a kiss.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9a1veydX1xVHeXFF8Ta0e7EeUZNjh0UeBQnXquNmBh5FAdZPL2dCOPFobbevjTYbswWslhzaybkrYW9S3OrI2C7oSLH1Whm3wFWsL6kzXhrHjGM77wUP5B-0ZjBiKSKdfqisrb2V8z6A/s1600/Screenshot-486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9a1veydX1xVHeXFF8Ta0e7EeUZNjh0UeBQnXquNmBh5FAdZPL2dCOPFobbevjTYbswWslhzaybkrYW9S3OrI2C7oSLH1Whm3wFWsL6kzXhrHjGM77wUP5B-0ZjBiKSKdfqisrb2V8z6A/s640/Screenshot-486.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Fine. I'll do it."<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Enigma."
<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyogeCiBCaPS5jrB5gdfPlkh-rlA6AKvLQz_6AU1UGEcYSTLWQaDm0RFFblJbbQRgBAgdyMZFngo0p4V9oK69eLxqD9x7RgIx4EjE3txLhK5EPU1oQsH3Ce8uAJgn3tgWoGyke8bcoc8s/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyogeCiBCaPS5jrB5gdfPlkh-rlA6AKvLQz_6AU1UGEcYSTLWQaDm0RFFblJbbQRgBAgdyMZFngo0p4V9oK69eLxqD9x7RgIx4EjE3txLhK5EPU1oQsH3Ce8uAJgn3tgWoGyke8bcoc8s/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Today while Absolon is on break, I decide to provide some entertainment for the store. I wonder what Camo will think. He's over by one of the shelves putting some books on it. I'm mesmerized by his arms again as he works. He looks up and smiles at me. The music plays and I start singing Taking Chances by Celine Dion.
<br />
<br />
<div align="center">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZKYKNZvQ6Jc" width="560"></iframe><br /></div>
<br />
"Don't know much about your life<br />
Don't know much about your world<br />
But don't want to be alone tonight<br />
On this planet they call Earth<br />
<br />
You don't know about my past<br />
And I don't have a future figured out<br />
And maybe this is going too fast<br />
And maybe it's not meant to last<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfZ4yBobYd17C4V5nVGdqOg5u7uBjLYRXIE0HOiTkmox9Th6OmX_3mObMEI-xRr2hy8eMIfG8VfM5gCz-EkK0qiN1FViJnA8iyw_GUXPWQDu6UlqczBKZZhth3w6JZaLPt7Hn7TRDmkXQ/s1600/Screenshot-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfZ4yBobYd17C4V5nVGdqOg5u7uBjLYRXIE0HOiTkmox9Th6OmX_3mObMEI-xRr2hy8eMIfG8VfM5gCz-EkK0qiN1FViJnA8iyw_GUXPWQDu6UlqczBKZZhth3w6JZaLPt7Hn7TRDmkXQ/s1600/Screenshot-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
But what do you say to taking chances<br />
What do you say to jumping off the edge<br />
Never knowing if there's solid ground below<br />
Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay<br />
What do you say<br />
<br />
I just want to start again<br />
Maybe you could show me how to try<br />
Maybe you could take me in<br />
Somewhere underneath your skin<br />
<br />
What do you say to taking chances<br />
What do you say to jumping off the edge<br />
Never knowing if there's solid ground below<br />
Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay<br />
What do you say<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bUTPneDa1PL7lp_mq-hz8XPYPrbPLfVVjj4jS-9h9kEgc0idfAWQOtVrNGxvxtCNh11xACYiI89mQHPHCFeysJEfy21h7UfJNZFCSOONqVvhsd9YnfA-0aZkmUwl_WcY4FquP36RJeQ/s1600/Screenshot-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bUTPneDa1PL7lp_mq-hz8XPYPrbPLfVVjj4jS-9h9kEgc0idfAWQOtVrNGxvxtCNh11xACYiI89mQHPHCFeysJEfy21h7UfJNZFCSOONqVvhsd9YnfA-0aZkmUwl_WcY4FquP36RJeQ/s1600/Screenshot-4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And I had my heart beating down, but I always come back for more<br />
There's nothing like love to pull you up when you're lying down on the floor there<br />
So talk to me, talk to me, like lovers do<br />
Yeah walk with me, walk with me, like lovers do<br />
<br />
What do you say to taking chances<br />
What do you say to jumping off the edge<br />
Never knowing if there's solid ground below<br />
Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay<br />
What do you say<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Don't know much about your life<br />
Don't know much about your world."<br />
<br />
When I'm done, Camo comes over to me with a big grin on his face.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-053xmapC4lnH-JACuBERuUE0NA7sDqKeLUKVkouH4DrkoQMCbAjiRO_lCuIh_w_jGKCvPWmVuTkmy7bh_R0r10X2KGlOws_uguxCu460PHXmT92DaOmxxXSLawbHn9V_BpkCA0qC6g/s1600/Screenshot-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-053xmapC4lnH-JACuBERuUE0NA7sDqKeLUKVkouH4DrkoQMCbAjiRO_lCuIh_w_jGKCvPWmVuTkmy7bh_R0r10X2KGlOws_uguxCu460PHXmT92DaOmxxXSLawbHn9V_BpkCA0qC6g/s1600/Screenshot-5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I didn't know you could sing like that! You're really good."<br />
<br />
"Thanks. My dad taught me. Hey, the store is closing at 5:00pm today, do you want to hang out after?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah."<br />
<br />
Camo looks like he wants to make out with me. I'm glad that he agreed to hang out with me before he has to go home. I'm not sure I will be able to resist ripping his clothes off before then, though, if he keeps staring at me like that. I smile at my sexy boyfriend and go back behind the counter until closing time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszf0OvqTwr9vNI-xUz9xiqvdmpz8fmu20qmowVKl7zWxgjEbCRID0McViZNLurT-MRVqN_p8rUrAEejBZuUwYXfcxDRXKg2AheAbBbkvB4l1PGbD2zeBj9PEcFn-6blC5iYUVTETS6zA/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszf0OvqTwr9vNI-xUz9xiqvdmpz8fmu20qmowVKl7zWxgjEbCRID0McViZNLurT-MRVqN_p8rUrAEejBZuUwYXfcxDRXKg2AheAbBbkvB4l1PGbD2zeBj9PEcFn-6blC5iYUVTETS6zA/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
"Hey Titanium, I think I'm going to hang out with Verona after work today, but I'll be back before 10pm. You should hang out with Absolon."<br />
<br />
"Without you?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, you'll be fine. Just remember what I said, don't automatically think he's scary. Learn to trust him a little since you already like him."<br />
<br />
Titanium nods, still a little afraid, but determined to listen to Camo's wisdom.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOht0tX5NcSEyma7bp2xYjPxRcMu7zg3VdJv-kD15Rj_fFnVhLmTYkAzjXKcRNopMduU3l9wBYDZjU6Et4OwtGapnpIiN3wr_Pwd6eixAumFntvu6168FFKlkjh32euLLk0YSAmigg7m0/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOht0tX5NcSEyma7bp2xYjPxRcMu7zg3VdJv-kD15Rj_fFnVhLmTYkAzjXKcRNopMduU3l9wBYDZjU6Et4OwtGapnpIiN3wr_Pwd6eixAumFntvu6168FFKlkjh32euLLk0YSAmigg7m0/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Five o'clock rolls around and all the customers have left the store. Titanium walks over to Absolon and nervously smiles at him.<br />
<br />
"Uh, Absolon?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, what's up? Why do you look nervous?"<br />
<br />
"I'm scared you'll say no to my next question. Um, will you go on a walk with me?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0R7NlnFALQuODIbRZa74GdSCvrrtPaCa6zHO2tnR1xBoLAjfWvOkgML9ksVUEdyM8d9arC2TgAHz4_NaKwkfwqkOyK_AlXvBAKOuEtON8RHqVmclCe_TAfX5ZqaqE2XzDiyU3dgf5A8/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0R7NlnFALQuODIbRZa74GdSCvrrtPaCa6zHO2tnR1xBoLAjfWvOkgML9ksVUEdyM8d9arC2TgAHz4_NaKwkfwqkOyK_AlXvBAKOuEtON8RHqVmclCe_TAfX5ZqaqE2XzDiyU3dgf5A8/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Yes, I'll walk with you. Why would you be nervous about that? I am your friend. Come on, let's split, Camo and Verona look like they need to be alone."<br />
<br />
Titanium looks over at Camo, who is staring intently into Verona's eyes. He and Absolon go out the door.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After I locked the front door, I went back inside to meet Camo. He has this crazy intense stare that's so hypnotizing, intoxicating, oh wow, I can't breathe. I'm so glad no one else snatched him up before I did. I really hope Daddy doesn't think anything's wrong with the store if I don't come home right away. I don't think he will, he's not a worrier. I'll try to keep all the merchandise in tact as well as not dirtying the furniture. Maybe Camo won't be opposed to having sex standing up... I wonder if he's ever done it that way before... god I want him.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii26v_LtqRNbTyveJPWW63W_QgiUq4D6onBfMjfF7VjZ0N9lsUcfa90Um5Vp2Pm91IfB3sAObdSeAg-fN9pKZJKnaiKNbaQKlctsBdSn8K7IDNWv1XRMSPDoeBrPxarjzMW_2ILXAGAlE/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii26v_LtqRNbTyveJPWW63W_QgiUq4D6onBfMjfF7VjZ0N9lsUcfa90Um5Vp2Pm91IfB3sAObdSeAg-fN9pKZJKnaiKNbaQKlctsBdSn8K7IDNWv1XRMSPDoeBrPxarjzMW_2ILXAGAlE/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo leans in and kisses me, breaking the staring contest we had apparently started. Now that he's as close to me as I want and obviously wants the same thing I do, I grab the back of his head, and play with his hair. I suck on his bottom lip as his tongue invades my mouth. I kiss him back as I slide my hand under the neckline of his shirt and rub the top of his back. He feels really muscular.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-wJi9nlSVR0_if4RHiAtiP0y8QY613Lxu1absRItmSSuZpWHwQFQ0RYe-GdbnHPAsRl_iANef3Jxff2tMX_Cfz0Q6exyowxAPwVFDB2b0IKdCsB3EUqAAR8fI_D9VjRG12a3_smq9dE/s1600/Screenshot-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-wJi9nlSVR0_if4RHiAtiP0y8QY613Lxu1absRItmSSuZpWHwQFQ0RYe-GdbnHPAsRl_iANef3Jxff2tMX_Cfz0Q6exyowxAPwVFDB2b0IKdCsB3EUqAAR8fI_D9VjRG12a3_smq9dE/s1600/Screenshot-10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I feel his hand under my shirt and I smile at him in between kisses and lift his shirt off him. It's the first time I've seen him shirtless and I was enjoying the view when Camo takes my top off and kisses me so hard that I wish his clothes would just disappear.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYD2egglQkGH1VrTKfPhZvlZqRTH3BzwWmlID6yJ8cwP3z4J4UCiiDNrcgacdf31Mp6ft1iB3rsHfhH5bAtM9W3_3ods9eliqNfGZ83jCQn8-jQkV10HDegLp95btTVwFwm5KDaTF1nM/s1600/Screenshot-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYD2egglQkGH1VrTKfPhZvlZqRTH3BzwWmlID6yJ8cwP3z4J4UCiiDNrcgacdf31Mp6ft1iB3rsHfhH5bAtM9W3_3ods9eliqNfGZ83jCQn8-jQkV10HDegLp95btTVwFwm5KDaTF1nM/s1600/Screenshot-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
At some point we end up laying on the floor, not letting each other go the entire time. I suppose the floor is just as good a place as the wall, at least we'll be laying down for it. I hug Camo's body close to mine and move my leg strategically up and down, not that he needed any help in that department. He's devouring my neck. I hope he doesn't leave a hickey.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2N0LRftSWAPzUDqu-R9nD0bmaeHzjUVWsw_FO32Yk-Ff3BHupsRKuPwprtJqI_nDD_PgZgyRTUgoaoshTeIJuQdlqVPA5jxt_ZPsHXJ6rhoZWmw7V6tnzwYzILPBdFQPFBUxQKrOSjs/s1600/Screenshot-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2N0LRftSWAPzUDqu-R9nD0bmaeHzjUVWsw_FO32Yk-Ff3BHupsRKuPwprtJqI_nDD_PgZgyRTUgoaoshTeIJuQdlqVPA5jxt_ZPsHXJ6rhoZWmw7V6tnzwYzILPBdFQPFBUxQKrOSjs/s1600/Screenshot-12.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When I start undoing his pants, he props his arm up on the floor and smiles at me.<br />
<br />
"You are so hot."<br />
<br />
"Speak for yourself, baby," I say as I slide his pants down his legs.<br />
<br />
We finish undressing each other and he stays on top of me as he enters. I put my hands on his hips to help guide him. I don't know how much help he really needs since he told me he's had sex before, keeping in mind that he said he didn't like it. His first time must have been really bad. The expression on his face now says he's having fun.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HlbbugaSFieGoxs2j0Ig5odIgyJBzaVXcSCFX00BHcFFO3QuYb0pas0XvzzHEgC8YYnfBvqJHVYBZDfzZdix00D-fjSUF-fl7VxXD9_ClNnaF5YbMFzNDcBmW3QRXjyFTZtkdu9RDBs/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HlbbugaSFieGoxs2j0Ig5odIgyJBzaVXcSCFX00BHcFFO3QuYb0pas0XvzzHEgC8YYnfBvqJHVYBZDfzZdix00D-fjSUF-fl7VxXD9_ClNnaF5YbMFzNDcBmW3QRXjyFTZtkdu9RDBs/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Does that feel good, Camo?"<br />
<br />
"Yes. So good."<br />
<br />
I'm having fun looking at his sexy body now since I didn't get to earlier before he attacked my mouth. I tell Camo he can go faster whenever he feels like it. It's not long after that where he does go faster and I feel like my head's going to fly off the top of my neck. My toes curl and then I lay there, spent. He finishes at the same time and stays on top of me for a minute, panting. Then he lays on me and hugs me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHsgGZbWqlYKp_tDu7PVuNDbCsGxBB83jVqMq716-M9QKTGVds9Nsr_oUE03RoqdA3kITgExjueog8pUi6gFjie7kcDPBAsb78-oXXL2EL5gGfoMi2UInRSjUwMgA7btekVpTT1QFC18/s1600/Screenshot-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHsgGZbWqlYKp_tDu7PVuNDbCsGxBB83jVqMq716-M9QKTGVds9Nsr_oUE03RoqdA3kITgExjueog8pUi6gFjie7kcDPBAsb78-oXXL2EL5gGfoMi2UInRSjUwMgA7btekVpTT1QFC18/s1600/Screenshot-15.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Thank you, Verona."<br />
<br />
"For what? You don't need to thank your girlfriend for having sex with you."<br />
<br />
"No, for being nice to me."<br />
<br />
"Awww, baby."<br />
<br />
I wonder what that means. Are people not normally nice to him? I can't imagine why since he's so wonderful.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhn3l-EUyMSTVNqTGMwtiXL4Ty748lE02Sxxk18TszMDcWVE6d_rldShR1q87vklvCUNMa0j6-KXR-DNoduPpZKRgE6B72g22Jl0SOQNXOnp4swpE6U6m1bipIZzfwf8YbffW7itF_Ro/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhn3l-EUyMSTVNqTGMwtiXL4Ty748lE02Sxxk18TszMDcWVE6d_rldShR1q87vklvCUNMa0j6-KXR-DNoduPpZKRgE6B72g22Jl0SOQNXOnp4swpE6U6m1bipIZzfwf8YbffW7itF_Ro/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I'm going on a walk with Titanium today. I'm excited that he wanted to hang out with me other than while we're at work. I don't know how to read him though, because he always seems to be nervous around me. Maybe some talking will loosen him up. I guess it's possible he's afraid of me since I yelled at him really bad that one day.<br />
<br />
"It's pretty gorgeous out today, isn't it?"<br />
<br />
Can't go wrong talking about the weather, although it does seem quite lame. I hope he likes me as much as I like him. The only thing I don't like is that he's part of The Compound, but that's not his fault. Those people are evil and he's just stuck in their web. He's never asked me again to stay there or go to any of their stupid gatherings, so I think he's gotten the point that I am fine and don't need to be saved.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtATCLC7doxuTiXhetQ1hsb9sIlMNcLs2h4AaEbsD13Hdw6gcFmOvoU0rZUqWRhorRe8fI-mW2Y_rNyon7q30_9ZHeuOBWenNQhZhq-AaYQb3_LB04S96WPwLIcNA8D-wj3PpT66le7bU/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtATCLC7doxuTiXhetQ1hsb9sIlMNcLs2h4AaEbsD13Hdw6gcFmOvoU0rZUqWRhorRe8fI-mW2Y_rNyon7q30_9ZHeuOBWenNQhZhq-AaYQb3_LB04S96WPwLIcNA8D-wj3PpT66le7bU/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Yeah, it's warm."<br />
<br />
He's so quiet. It's kind of adorable, although I wish he would just talk to me. I hope I'm not stepping over the line, but maybe I need to just ask him why he's so nervous all the time. I can't blame him, though, from what I know of The Compound, they've probably made him super paranoid about everything.<br />
<br />
"Titanium, why are you so nervous?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know, I've just always been that way. I was like that when I was first getting to know Camo too."<br />
<br />
"What did he do to make you stop being nervous around him?"<br />
<br />
"Hmm... well I think time helped with that."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Titanium is happy to be going on a walk with Absolon, but he's still really nervous. This is the first time he's been without Camo by his side outside of The Compound. Part of him is scared of Absolon, but he doesn't want to tell him that for fear his worries will come true and Absolon might do something to him. The other part of him wants so badly to believe in Absolon like Camo said, and just trust that he's a good person. When Absolon asks why he's so nervous all the time, he's not quite sure what to say so he just blames it on his personality.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzOdFE_LpiNnvJcH3Cl9gUbDSiW1HcPyVNAzoQ6EPysrk4RAP0iKSXqR5p80aFiFtJ5GmmmH_bzOEdgLNQ9KMiFSTQX6SrSaeLvyNSnzEjD6ZB-SfeKqd4VPzaAmiE4g-eiVISKRdUEQ/s1600/Screenshot-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzOdFE_LpiNnvJcH3Cl9gUbDSiW1HcPyVNAzoQ6EPysrk4RAP0iKSXqR5p80aFiFtJ5GmmmH_bzOEdgLNQ9KMiFSTQX6SrSaeLvyNSnzEjD6ZB-SfeKqd4VPzaAmiE4g-eiVISKRdUEQ/s1600/Screenshot-18.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I'm also nervous because I lost a friend when I was seven, and after that I kind of just shut people out. I didn't meet Camo until I was seventeen. I guess I figured if I didn't have any friends, I wouldn't have to worry about losing them."<br />
<br />
Titanium is surprised at himself for revealing that piece of information about #235. The only person he's told about that is Camo. Maybe he trusts Absolon more than he thinks he does.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry. Do you want to get to know me or do you want to keep shutting me out?"<br />
<br />
Absolon asks him a serious question and Titanium gets scared again. He doesn't know what to say because he fears getting to know Absolon better will lead him down a dark path of impurity and danger, but he really does want to know Absolon because he's attracted to him. Titanium looks up and feels his heart picking up its pace as Absolon moves closer and puts his arm around him with one hand, stroking his cheek with the other. Titanium feels something like what can only be described as an electric shock when Absolon touches him, something he's never felt before. What is Absolon doing to him?<br />
<br />
"You don't have to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNV8RpN3ev9IEThqYz7Bds-Yu8OrAgWncKEIhMZG6zkxtA2BtMFVyRTeD2immjwI6Dgv7eMEC44ACMvW2Nn1UcFvusNKe1RATFF2iXDMhXXJjY9erEExmQsNVcc7-BUrx46mBejHR5Awg/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNV8RpN3ev9IEThqYz7Bds-Yu8OrAgWncKEIhMZG6zkxtA2BtMFVyRTeD2immjwI6Dgv7eMEC44ACMvW2Nn1UcFvusNKe1RATFF2iXDMhXXJjY9erEExmQsNVcc7-BUrx46mBejHR5Awg/s1600/Screenshot-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Titanium is surprised that Absolon somehow knew that he was the reason for Titanium's nervousness, and he's very happy that Absolon brought it up because he wasn't sure how to.<br />
<br />
"H-How did you know I was afraid of you?"<br />
<br />
"Well you kind of act like a scared puppy when you're near me. I did kind of go off on you that day at the park, so I'm guessing you are afraid to talk to me because you think I might yell at you and storm away."<br />
<br />
Titanium is relieved Absolon's not mad at him for being scared. He does know he probably shouldn't tell him the real reason though, which is that he doesn't know if he can trust him because he's a Stranger.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Credit: <a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a>, <a href="http://afterdusksims.blogspot.com/">AfterDusk Sims</a></h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-14561588957621687842013-04-06T20:00:00.000-07:002013-04-06T20:00:03.395-07:00Chapter 18: Hope<b>What drove you to continue to pursue a friendship with Absolon despite your reservations about it?</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpoZk8gpKcKO2iwaP8LZpDLGqoXkUm0swXJhJL4w0byYDbZD9IN2TkYPnS4I16v4c16td6Xfe80Proh-eOMBgwg3jUabkdBVnagAtVvrE4_DpLyHcclnoXSr-fTCTnEzxRiygg_eTy6o/s1600/Screenshot-43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpoZk8gpKcKO2iwaP8LZpDLGqoXkUm0swXJhJL4w0byYDbZD9IN2TkYPnS4I16v4c16td6Xfe80Proh-eOMBgwg3jUabkdBVnagAtVvrE4_DpLyHcclnoXSr-fTCTnEzxRiygg_eTy6o/s640/Screenshot-43.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
I kept thinking about what Camo said and I wanted to get to where he was. He didn't label Absolon as a Stranger, he just looked at him as another person.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I'm sitting across from Camo eating lunch with him. I can't stop staring at his lips as he eats his soup. I really want to kiss him, but I probably shouldn't since we're at work. He'd probably kiss really well, with lips like that. How is he making eating soup sexy? My heart is going to leap out of my chest.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEFpcPVJ8YG0PmAVXL7C-PQGjOSQPO3adOh_B_zblFESiMWF4PiGDJ9LxRhoBXR8hFUWmMlCylVAUlyyLm4Zcm8j8dwy32OjUxX5AZnqTASicwnY2CaYJX_J-nVNTH2xRfge6d-t_rD0/s1600/Screenshot-444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEFpcPVJ8YG0PmAVXL7C-PQGjOSQPO3adOh_B_zblFESiMWF4PiGDJ9LxRhoBXR8hFUWmMlCylVAUlyyLm4Zcm8j8dwy32OjUxX5AZnqTASicwnY2CaYJX_J-nVNTH2xRfge6d-t_rD0/s640/Screenshot-444.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Verona? Are you going to eat your sandwich?"<br />
<br />
"What? Sandwich. Yeah."<br />
<br />
I can't help but feel a little embarrassed and silly that Camo has me so entranced that I forgot to eat. I pick up my sandwich and take a bite.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5I0O2XC3X6Qxreww2YWkBXhViV5TpLKatUQZB_OQ9D3SuQaZd-Lj6xkvzundwenRnzkI2ik58OXQVBsw1KbcjWERX6TvzhAFP4dwhjh5kQtIGi5zfRCPgkHudYGhE2I_1BSAU7vL8d50/s1600/Screenshot-445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5I0O2XC3X6Qxreww2YWkBXhViV5TpLKatUQZB_OQ9D3SuQaZd-Lj6xkvzundwenRnzkI2ik58OXQVBsw1KbcjWERX6TvzhAFP4dwhjh5kQtIGi5zfRCPgkHudYGhE2I_1BSAU7vL8d50/s640/Screenshot-445.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo? What do you do for fun?"<br />
<br />
"Go to work."<br />
<br />
"You think work is fun?"<br />
<br />
"No, but seeing you is."<br />
<br />
Oh, my heart skipped a beat and now there are butterflies in my stomach. I don't know why since he's already my boyfriend, so it's not like I have anything to be nervous about. I wonder if this is what love feels like. I've dated lots of guys, but no one has ever made me feel like this before.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSKm-D7u4TCsM6lZAn6XkE96VY2rruSpWl78zGpBF3zAhOkEWMnHyNfxxZ8CPW0GSv5-XD1hsrtPQz4lq-9J08QgczI5NmyXv1HAABqrntWc6TCtmdPeuDVvqjke7oanKd2TpXdqetT_0/s1600/Screenshot-446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSKm-D7u4TCsM6lZAn6XkE96VY2rruSpWl78zGpBF3zAhOkEWMnHyNfxxZ8CPW0GSv5-XD1hsrtPQz4lq-9J08QgczI5NmyXv1HAABqrntWc6TCtmdPeuDVvqjke7oanKd2TpXdqetT_0/s640/Screenshot-446.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Camo, do you like the beach?"<br />
<br />
Camo's eyes light up as he smiles and nods at me.<br />
<br />
"I love the beach. In fact, that's a place that holds one of my fondest memories."<br />
<br />
"Oh? What's that?"<br />
<br />
"It's the day I first saw you."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhafZLwIBtTyXpP0Whql3cCDFiVCa60C90UVmBrPIS0KlBWZElP8MaVmeVhDs-C_uRZX20V1nnLBbmakggn3CUO3uAty5n3qXMff93l-bs3rEEKRFymJE2mF7bltCacbns5kzwnNmxDU4Y/s1600/Screenshot-447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhafZLwIBtTyXpP0Whql3cCDFiVCa60C90UVmBrPIS0KlBWZElP8MaVmeVhDs-C_uRZX20V1nnLBbmakggn3CUO3uAty5n3qXMff93l-bs3rEEKRFymJE2mF7bltCacbns5kzwnNmxDU4Y/s640/Screenshot-447.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Really? Hmm.. how come I don't remember you?"<br />
<br />
Camo laughs a little nervous laugh before he smiles again and looks down into his soup bowl.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP2AxVwPm3btH77QhNy9IMwKVGYnNljveA3MiEGP6F7PMRUmeWr4utrKdgHIuZHnKV3Ijs6wLxpRDpOaSlKMRKdS_JU2_r2hV9BdxiG5n1RXFTSDedrKGl70RhnfgcWe_eSuY9dkkKfA/s1600/Screenshot-448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP2AxVwPm3btH77QhNy9IMwKVGYnNljveA3MiEGP6F7PMRUmeWr4utrKdgHIuZHnKV3Ijs6wLxpRDpOaSlKMRKdS_JU2_r2hV9BdxiG5n1RXFTSDedrKGl70RhnfgcWe_eSuY9dkkKfA/s640/Screenshot-448.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Uh... well... I kind of... uh, I-"<br />
<br />
"Camo, it's all right. You can tell me."<br />
<br />
"I was being a typical teenager and checking out your ass."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI5dNBg6Hq4FFRQut7Z_hQOZwgbaxpdeGbp7zzOzkR2l95cDMRWG7H72Xd56s5yqfcu22ziZWEjaXVAnXuewoKc9Kb2DpB1KT_LoHP3ADOxGMqBQ_vD1LbaMlQsmbEq0ZJeWOdZ7S_vI/s1600/Screenshot-449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI5dNBg6Hq4FFRQut7Z_hQOZwgbaxpdeGbp7zzOzkR2l95cDMRWG7H72Xd56s5yqfcu22ziZWEjaXVAnXuewoKc9Kb2DpB1KT_LoHP3ADOxGMqBQ_vD1LbaMlQsmbEq0ZJeWOdZ7S_vI/s640/Screenshot-449.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Camo talks really fast and continues eating. That's why he looked like he'd seen a ghost when he and Titanium came into the store looking for jobs. He already knew me, well, sort of, knew my backside. I chuckle to myself as I now I realize that the front of me must have stunned him into oblivion. <i>Well, the feelings are mutual, sexy Camo.</i><br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I'm sitting with Titanium on the couch. He and I have been getting to know each other better and he asked me how I knew of The Compound after apologizing profusely again for judging me that day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xPPC8xzBVu8GAr6IRs1o03GbHWfv7QMJPKF6ik0OByFgXGHnxsgdVXYMFWXHLoN8bYZ0JmFjLLXz9_fOS4VE2GzdosvW8PJbeBWthoLeAaCDxu2Sg4_2y4DC7h7NZOxxv2yNXRJPS-Q/s1600/Screenshot-476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xPPC8xzBVu8GAr6IRs1o03GbHWfv7QMJPKF6ik0OByFgXGHnxsgdVXYMFWXHLoN8bYZ0JmFjLLXz9_fOS4VE2GzdosvW8PJbeBWthoLeAaCDxu2Sg4_2y4DC7h7NZOxxv2yNXRJPS-Q/s640/Screenshot-476.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"You want to know how I know about The Compound? My mother was a resident for a while. She was the lady in the car with you and Camo when you guys left the beach that day."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<b>Did The Leader require people he picked up at community gatherings to live in The Compound?</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6z6iJnO-vPmB5HG6lAtFCDbDFYrc3MUh48QLhUphRVdom-8ZOvEWa6wB5fdo8kAQdmfNk6dPp0SaSyGozF2dw70VetZ_Tp48JgbvE03JxWjWUIjCOwZMmjTFaRMyIE3fMrDA-8lF414/s1600/Screenshot-46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6z6iJnO-vPmB5HG6lAtFCDbDFYrc3MUh48QLhUphRVdom-8ZOvEWa6wB5fdo8kAQdmfNk6dPp0SaSyGozF2dw70VetZ_Tp48JgbvE03JxWjWUIjCOwZMmjTFaRMyIE3fMrDA-8lF414/s640/Screenshot-46.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
For residents who had a home, they were allowed to live at their house as long as they attended a few meetings. Some of them ended up eventually moving into The Compound.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
"Class, not all Strangers have to be homeless to need our help. Some of them have miserable home lives and although they have houses to sleep in, they need our support. If you know any of these types of Strangers, you do not need to convince them to live here, but it would be good if you could encourage them to attend some of our classes."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-QOs4f0cZD7j5d8ScVPazw-J37L4zuR8xibS-Ld8QTyZTaUSzQvt6HwAa08zyWCFvjVsL0HMQy4B7Ou3KE-1SBJLrWvRDmLsM-sh-2kUlDk1QJLS3jv5qyIyNL7eDDYyuR1BK_o0hLg/s1600/Screenshot-348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-QOs4f0cZD7j5d8ScVPazw-J37L4zuR8xibS-Ld8QTyZTaUSzQvt6HwAa08zyWCFvjVsL0HMQy4B7Ou3KE-1SBJLrWvRDmLsM-sh-2kUlDk1QJLS3jv5qyIyNL7eDDYyuR1BK_o0hLg/s640/Screenshot-348.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"What kinds of things make them miserable at home?"<br />
<br />
"Good question Zinfandel. All situations are different, but there are usual things like problems with relationships, drugs, crime, and other impure things. Some Strangers are in abusive relationships where the person they live with beats them up regularly. Some get into arguments over money and turn to unhealthy ways of solving their problems like drugs and alcohol."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I went to the beach alone after being woken up by my parents' fight. I'd just gotten done playing some pool when my mother came into the beach house. I wondered how she had found me since I hadn't told her where I was going.<br />
<br />
"Absolon, honey? Why'd you leave the house?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFBWg_PqIFYdfujlxxDMYPCGquUFW8xs5pjmux9vErLjR4XSKiMxl5jvf44NLgS0xmZdl4SgcTnVwa_UQzsP9oMDfyD-6mggP-TAKpRVl_HLCZyXfjgPkuxM7oT5wkaNeawZOGtbkqis/s1600/Screenshot-454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFBWg_PqIFYdfujlxxDMYPCGquUFW8xs5pjmux9vErLjR4XSKiMxl5jvf44NLgS0xmZdl4SgcTnVwa_UQzsP9oMDfyD-6mggP-TAKpRVl_HLCZyXfjgPkuxM7oT5wkaNeawZOGtbkqis/s640/Screenshot-454.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I had to get away from you and dad. You guys woke me up with your fighting. I've been here all day."<br />
<br />
"Oh, I'm sorry. I tried to get your father to talk to you and he got mad again."<br />
<br />
"Mom, I don't know why you keep doing that. I know he hates me. He's made that very clear. I don't care much for him either. You should save yourself the trouble and just give it a rest."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03FwbRbMcd1upzIlDmNGjvIvoBgHnoFfxlTJPNYsygFydDS40viP0i96dRmY_2cRBstHd53mg5nVp9qHzrxQ0YRu2aGXCy3eNYXOTCN8LVFYfeZsdQDTh_fD8IXdq5EH1RQ4B97GDEmo/s1600/Screenshot-455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03FwbRbMcd1upzIlDmNGjvIvoBgHnoFfxlTJPNYsygFydDS40viP0i96dRmY_2cRBstHd53mg5nVp9qHzrxQ0YRu2aGXCy3eNYXOTCN8LVFYfeZsdQDTh_fD8IXdq5EH1RQ4B97GDEmo/s640/Screenshot-455.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03FwbRbMcd1upzIlDmNGjvIvoBgHnoFfxlTJPNYsygFydDS40viP0i96dRmY_2cRBstHd53mg5nVp9qHzrxQ0YRu2aGXCy3eNYXOTCN8LVFYfeZsdQDTh_fD8IXdq5EH1RQ4B97GDEmo/s1600/Screenshot-455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03FwbRbMcd1upzIlDmNGjvIvoBgHnoFfxlTJPNYsygFydDS40viP0i96dRmY_2cRBstHd53mg5nVp9qHzrxQ0YRu2aGXCy3eNYXOTCN8LVFYfeZsdQDTh_fD8IXdq5EH1RQ4B97GDEmo/s1600/Screenshot-455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03FwbRbMcd1upzIlDmNGjvIvoBgHnoFfxlTJPNYsygFydDS40viP0i96dRmY_2cRBstHd53mg5nVp9qHzrxQ0YRu2aGXCy3eNYXOTCN8LVFYfeZsdQDTh_fD8IXdq5EH1RQ4B97GDEmo/s1600/Screenshot-455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03FwbRbMcd1upzIlDmNGjvIvoBgHnoFfxlTJPNYsygFydDS40viP0i96dRmY_2cRBstHd53mg5nVp9qHzrxQ0YRu2aGXCy3eNYXOTCN8LVFYfeZsdQDTh_fD8IXdq5EH1RQ4B97GDEmo/s1600/Screenshot-455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I am trying to make us a family."<br />
<br />
"Yeah? Well, don't bother."<br />
<br />
"Absolon!"<br />
<br />
I sigh and look down. I'm a little ashamed for talking to her like that, but I really think it's pointless, and if it will get her and Dad to stop fighting, maybe it's just better that way.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, Mom. I just don't think there is any hope for the three of us to be one big happy family. Maybe happily ever after is not meant for us."<br />
<br />
"Don't you talk like that. There is always hope. Okay?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1MG89t9aXj2p2d7GuNMci1cRTVz9SJyX-DyAohoUkjw4dsMU7Z9JWwMKQaFhSptzf1QOzenfrpW8XhL7C8bEhcrwz1S1-Xgi4pOTrULMjJeOhCmXrNMDhBnY0IItDJhFCQIVtDrNLuM/s1600/Screenshot-456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1MG89t9aXj2p2d7GuNMci1cRTVz9SJyX-DyAohoUkjw4dsMU7Z9JWwMKQaFhSptzf1QOzenfrpW8XhL7C8bEhcrwz1S1-Xgi4pOTrULMjJeOhCmXrNMDhBnY0IItDJhFCQIVtDrNLuM/s640/Screenshot-456.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I nod, even though I don't believe her one bit. I don't want to crush the hope she seems to have.<br />
<br />
"Come with me, Absolon. There's a little gathering I want to stay for, and I'd like you to see what it's about as well."<br />
<br />
I follow my mom to another part of the beach house, where the red haired man who gave us hot dogs is standing. Some other people are gathered around. He starts talking about how Silicon Shores is full of pain and sadness and that he has some shelter that is an escape from all of it. He sounds like a complete nutjob, thinking that there's a way to live in utopia. I whisper in my mom's ear to let her know I don't want to stick around for this.<br />
<br />
"Mom I think I'm going to go for a swim, if that's okay with you. I'll be back home later. I love you."<br />
<br />
"I love you too, baby. Hey, I'm going to stay up here. I'm curious what he has to say."<br />
<br />
"All right Mom. See you at the house."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnReqROENIbe5e60k8GEJa-1umwL1rM2T_iSJOooXqeFKUHBcUgSy1-5sCPJ1j0HSyApIPUAkKR9E_p9_PJ95-b1ZbpFEJiZ4vNfpqJdjE5podndBLcm0NSPdcmW0az3su06eo1WUN_Y/s1600/Screenshot-457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnReqROENIbe5e60k8GEJa-1umwL1rM2T_iSJOooXqeFKUHBcUgSy1-5sCPJ1j0HSyApIPUAkKR9E_p9_PJ95-b1ZbpFEJiZ4vNfpqJdjE5podndBLcm0NSPdcmW0az3su06eo1WUN_Y/s640/Screenshot-457.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I go back home and see Dad watching some tv. I'm glad for the sudden change in peacefulness, but I wonder where Mom is. The little discussion group she went to seemed like it was hours ago. Dad ignores me, as usual, which I suppose is better than him yelling at me to go away or stop bothering him. There are gross plates of food everywhere so I decide to clean up.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9SCFlx9EmVZxLYctc0J7-TXyCDg4Z_YlFTNZ-dyvjR8Cnqdv9Ig0lCYl7ot2ZDWY1UZn7-oHL1ZYaqmrGCd8HwY8A8aO6D5JtEW1dm08TzPR3Q7wbhwBai9jdJ_YkhdIkNiMmrcy30Y/s1600/Screenshot-458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9SCFlx9EmVZxLYctc0J7-TXyCDg4Z_YlFTNZ-dyvjR8Cnqdv9Ig0lCYl7ot2ZDWY1UZn7-oHL1ZYaqmrGCd8HwY8A8aO6D5JtEW1dm08TzPR3Q7wbhwBai9jdJ_YkhdIkNiMmrcy30Y/s640/Screenshot-458.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Unfortunately for me, I drop one of the pans on the floor. I don't even have to turn around to feel my dad burning a hole into me with his eyes. I don't know what his problem is, the television is at a perfectly decent volume so it's not like he missed anything.<br />
<br />
"Absolon! Will you shut up! I'm trying to watch tv."<br />
<br />
"Sorry."<br />
<br />
"God! You are such a pain in the ass!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMPjefedcFuZvlahLa73Dfojkk3CTD49lrz3SC766mJxxDXbHGI-eNZMZaEBXIEjn6_YmcNCffkKA7xHQRJm-Ggdgi-EJX2S9IE631jaol5eutpn-U8DX_zVAtqv5Dj7QL_KO6LopyB0/s1600/Screenshot-459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMPjefedcFuZvlahLa73Dfojkk3CTD49lrz3SC766mJxxDXbHGI-eNZMZaEBXIEjn6_YmcNCffkKA7xHQRJm-Ggdgi-EJX2S9IE631jaol5eutpn-U8DX_zVAtqv5Dj7QL_KO6LopyB0/s640/Screenshot-459.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Is Mom back yet?"<br />
<br />
"How the fuck should I know? She went out to find your stupid ass, and you're here, she isn't, put two and two together. Where did you lose her?"<br />
<br />
"I was at the beach and she stayed at some party."<br />
<br />
"Great. She accuses me of cheating and then she goes off to a party. Bitch."<br />
<br />
"Dad, it's not that kind of party."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXM3_CQ4iMeVnuo472YrT5Vegm8OJVLYiyP86jW6K8ZE1pZF29CviAHF2O8pnjy-HMLJTLczMtLd2aAJyIVRMtHdzsnewVN8c8UWJulzLVXiLeOsc8_PY2VG5nRttCIpKRIRIbXwob2Kg/s1600/Screenshot-460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXM3_CQ4iMeVnuo472YrT5Vegm8OJVLYiyP86jW6K8ZE1pZF29CviAHF2O8pnjy-HMLJTLczMtLd2aAJyIVRMtHdzsnewVN8c8UWJulzLVXiLeOsc8_PY2VG5nRttCIpKRIRIbXwob2Kg/s640/Screenshot-460.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Well then what kind of party was it?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know."<br />
<br />
"God, you're useless! Just go away!"<br />
<br />
The next day, Mom still wasn't back. Dad continued to yell at me for leaving her at the beach, and two more days passed before she finally walked in the front door.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Before Camo left for work today, he made a date with me to go to the beach the next day. He said he had to be back home for a class at 2pm but that we could spend the morning together. I don't know why he has class in a shelter. Maybe it's some type of home schooling or something. I meet him there around 8am and we start dancing. I really love the way he is looking at me. His eyes are so intense. Maybe today is the day we should have our first kiss.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq5-lAbsPTElf4mdZWZxile-6sA-3y5l9eGXrmAbjwA6ZmAm4eUDx69uPBiiAo2hHGArHF4jo1CwZfEWY2zf6h4pylzvkcm0C6MN2baa-iX04rETFnVPP563hwmbd7YqlGNRI1CyhBKp8/s1600/Screenshot-478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq5-lAbsPTElf4mdZWZxile-6sA-3y5l9eGXrmAbjwA6ZmAm4eUDx69uPBiiAo2hHGArHF4jo1CwZfEWY2zf6h4pylzvkcm0C6MN2baa-iX04rETFnVPP563hwmbd7YqlGNRI1CyhBKp8/s640/Screenshot-478.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>Holy shit he's adorable. Kiss him, Verona! For the love... kiss him.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"This is fun, Camo. I'm glad you suggested it."<br />
<br />
"You're so pretty."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvGsf0ZtQO1ZZtQ5w55GPRF8jx2S8oWezttLcYTrbkzaO01MJ0ahwKHNHufxyCiowOUP-VEi5jrVmSZQnBcGPhOa1gmzlYk7-N_J1jRbfoR-Z-C88fUNLN6Kb8SAWLrjyKqBBGzSiCYU/s1600/Screenshot-481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvGsf0ZtQO1ZZtQ5w55GPRF8jx2S8oWezttLcYTrbkzaO01MJ0ahwKHNHufxyCiowOUP-VEi5jrVmSZQnBcGPhOa1gmzlYk7-N_J1jRbfoR-Z-C88fUNLN6Kb8SAWLrjyKqBBGzSiCYU/s640/Screenshot-481.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>Ooh, I can't take it anymore.</i> I grab Camo's hand and look into his eyes. He stares at me intently again like he did when we started dancing and our faces get closer and closer to each other until his lips are finally touching mine.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2XFnf74PjLPMXBBUkvRcrPeMFqqXv4ybXKhmphyphenhyphen5XDPbpavap86Ut1ge-bABYx3ebCwLT5Ur6Y-qUlFF9FmcieSVIJFJkhCeDZKA4deYq63JC_9OhxEL1AbKVWtZp2Orgj9BMfWwHx8I/s1600/Screenshot-483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2XFnf74PjLPMXBBUkvRcrPeMFqqXv4ybXKhmphyphenhyphen5XDPbpavap86Ut1ge-bABYx3ebCwLT5Ur6Y-qUlFF9FmcieSVIJFJkhCeDZKA4deYq63JC_9OhxEL1AbKVWtZp2Orgj9BMfWwHx8I/s640/Screenshot-483.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When we pull apart, he's smiling at me again.<br />
<br />
"Wow, is that what it's like to kiss a girl? I like it."<br />
<br />
"Camo? Was that your first kiss ever?"<br />
<br />
"Well, not technically, but it was the first kiss ever that I actually wanted."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1-2T0eCjgiy2JylboozNjfSu-Pw10pqQSwh7XwxBhxylG7Yir7wFE0tzCkcPb8DJK_shC0cGr0FmIvZ-kzBuBGIGJJ5O41sWTuraNGdjs9XHdUF8DMBE1olrBYvWHjFGUde94Ht9LmQ/s1600/Screenshot-484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1-2T0eCjgiy2JylboozNjfSu-Pw10pqQSwh7XwxBhxylG7Yir7wFE0tzCkcPb8DJK_shC0cGr0FmIvZ-kzBuBGIGJJ5O41sWTuraNGdjs9XHdUF8DMBE1olrBYvWHjFGUde94Ht9LmQ/s640/Screenshot-484.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"What's that all about?"<br />
<br />
"There's this thing called the reproduction schedule where I live, so I have to have sex with random people there. It's stupid and I hate it. I've only done it once and it sucked. She kept kissing me, but I didn't like her."<br />
<br />
Camo's shelter is sounding stranger by the minute.<br />
<br />
"Camo, have you ever been kissed like this before?"<br />
<br />
The look on his face when we're done tells me he hasn't.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6VYBIUwKQ07Bpkppu8nqLRhMVhJt-lZBGHL2nXnnNfuo8IH2XjVWJyz2uSbWtsWxYRroSvoGkJzxzRZ7lUPFQp8sO0dBvWZY3y-APOrcGa3QPyrIYCqW5V5mDoj161o-zDgDt6Eqp-yY/s1600/Screenshot-485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6VYBIUwKQ07Bpkppu8nqLRhMVhJt-lZBGHL2nXnnNfuo8IH2XjVWJyz2uSbWtsWxYRroSvoGkJzxzRZ7lUPFQp8sO0dBvWZY3y-APOrcGa3QPyrIYCqW5V5mDoj161o-zDgDt6Eqp-yY/s640/Screenshot-485.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
That day at the beach, I went to a shelter with the man who had given Absolon and I a free lunch. He runs it and it's called The Compound. The man sat down with me after Absolon had left and was concerned about my black eye. I told him I had marital problems and he asked if I had any friends to talk to about it. I said no and he offered to take me to his shelter so I could talk to some women. I agreed and then I stayed there for three days. I probably should have called Enigma and Absolon, but I didn't. Now I'm walking up to my house.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS90H9aRoCtyetabKJ3-m23YBPrsIY_eEQtYRpUVZQ3RDP2RNQEapcu3Vs8YIa2fm_sbjDD_NfmuOJDjDJkxR8ZRgR5w7XzhyphenhyphenPoi29p0m4Xp_2CqAc_fNumafddY28MDHC_WPPjgQ7x3U/s1600/Screenshot-461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS90H9aRoCtyetabKJ3-m23YBPrsIY_eEQtYRpUVZQ3RDP2RNQEapcu3Vs8YIa2fm_sbjDD_NfmuOJDjDJkxR8ZRgR5w7XzhyphenhyphenPoi29p0m4Xp_2CqAc_fNumafddY28MDHC_WPPjgQ7x3U/s640/Screenshot-461.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm glad to see Enigma when I walk in the door. He has a worried look on his face and I'm glad he missed me.<br />
<br />
"Andromeda, what happened to you? Where did you go? I came back here after we made up at the motel, but you weren't here."<br />
<br />
"I went to the beach to find Absolon after I left the motel. I'm sorry, I should have called you. I went to a shelter."<br />
<br />
"Why? You know I don't hit you regularly. That was a one time thing, I promise."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOEMkw6GMonusYki_ashBWIlla9W_NbOuRGfWnyrZ5AqLV3wux221h3krIpOD6_O6uNdtVTQjyuaOBRC9HofAXiCGp9qifn240gmzuYekfBlQ27bJEqKTTSXBQ7I3Rn-fgZtsNRaopIbE/s1600/Screenshot-462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOEMkw6GMonusYki_ashBWIlla9W_NbOuRGfWnyrZ5AqLV3wux221h3krIpOD6_O6uNdtVTQjyuaOBRC9HofAXiCGp9qifn240gmzuYekfBlQ27bJEqKTTSXBQ7I3Rn-fgZtsNRaopIbE/s640/Screenshot-462.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"I know, baby. There were some girls there I talked to, you know, girl talk?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, well I'm glad you're okay."<br />
<br />
"Enigma? I'm going to be going there once a week to hang out with those girls. I think the time will help me figure out how to fix my side of our marriage."<br />
<br />
"All right."<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<i>What happened to you, Kalya? How did you end up like your mother?</i> I can't sleep because I'm thinking hard about our new house guest and what Charles said to me the other night about how I treat Verona. I don't know what to do, I'm just worried about her. When I met Charles, he was a recovering drug addict. I worked in the rehab facility where he was assigned. It was hard watching him suffer from withdrawal. My heart went out to him, and somewhere along the line I gave my heart to him. My mother was not pleased with me picking a former drug addict as my boyfriend and she and my father disowned me from the estate. I was devastated. I can't imagine doing that to Verona, but I can't figure out how to stop worrying about her. The only thing I have figured out how to do is control who she dates. I don't really believe that's good for her, but I fear she will pick someone who will get her into trouble. She's never been one to follow rules very well.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9W2Y9QYRpLRbciiAupbYhxeMWzHQMaqQy6XoONGR1BDX04YHKYp-UukAnuFddWtREbCGTG8bVfO5VvvYCC0QdhUtB0e2z3FoQjDlXmFdKI0RiKuVU7g-ahaKB-lbzqWZ9aIdqa1zvMk/s1600/Screenshot-452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9W2Y9QYRpLRbciiAupbYhxeMWzHQMaqQy6XoONGR1BDX04YHKYp-UukAnuFddWtREbCGTG8bVfO5VvvYCC0QdhUtB0e2z3FoQjDlXmFdKI0RiKuVU7g-ahaKB-lbzqWZ9aIdqa1zvMk/s640/Screenshot-452.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I wanted her to work at the country club because there are decent men who go there, but she doesn't want to, so I can't do anything about that. Growing up rich, I learned not to trust people because most are only friends with you because you have money. I roll over and look at Charles. He's such a handsome man, inside and out. I am a bit jealous of Charles and Verona's eternal optimism, but I guess I'm just naturally a pessimist. I wonder about Verona's friend Absolon and I hope he does not have any ulterior motives. Charles told me to try to remember how I felt when we first met, and to apply some of that sympathy towards Absolon. I promised Charles I would try my best to respect Absolon for who he is now and what he's trying to do with his life, rather than where he comes from. It is a little easier since I know Verona is not involved with Absolon. Somehow I've got to find that young girl who fell in love with a drug addict because she seems much nicer than who I am now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31PvrnjAkZJNrQMpnK4c9HPQ5C1ZscrqqLByLf-vtn8KPmiiz-I-n0C9ztyP-E5uUfChWBGZjvguSImOpd7ATOX2SinxJ8fpP6Hwr2nU7qi9muaAANn-Qhbet_DfpqfeAMbxm91I8ZmQ/s1600/Screenshot-453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31PvrnjAkZJNrQMpnK4c9HPQ5C1ZscrqqLByLf-vtn8KPmiiz-I-n0C9ztyP-E5uUfChWBGZjvguSImOpd7ATOX2SinxJ8fpP6Hwr2nU7qi9muaAANn-Qhbet_DfpqfeAMbxm91I8ZmQ/s640/Screenshot-453.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
Credit: <a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></h2>
LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5912109957662839455.post-52965621942592471682013-04-04T20:00:00.001-07:002021-03-21T22:37:49.368-07:00Chapter 17: Assuming<div class="separator"><br /></div><div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAdat3IxLbh5aCYx8xbGZmIZ4NI494TWvYqGJ_A_t1nDh2NevP_sq_-VHehIKPyuRGWZImBiIELccOwT5zhyGW75kNBNGh6_d3w5e7Fh0iBTX9fZSNdo5IHxG4yNEEth_2gM-IZacOt8/s1600/Screenshot-451.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAdat3IxLbh5aCYx8xbGZmIZ4NI494TWvYqGJ_A_t1nDh2NevP_sq_-VHehIKPyuRGWZImBiIELccOwT5zhyGW75kNBNGh6_d3w5e7Fh0iBTX9fZSNdo5IHxG4yNEEth_2gM-IZacOt8/s640/Screenshot-451.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Did you feel comfortable having a friendship with someone outside of The Compound?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>It was a bit of a double edged sword. I loved hanging out with Absolon, but the lesson of 'The Strangers will act nice to suck you into their danger' was still in the back of my mind.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I'm looking up at the chandelier attached to the ceiling. I'm in a room with a chandelier. I still can't believe my good fortune. Verona and Charles are the nicest people I've ever met. I'm in awe of their unconditional kindness and the way they didn't pass judgment. I wonder why they were so eager to help me because I doubt that they let just anyone into their home. There's a knock on the door and I can see that it's Verona because the door is partly made of glass.</div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCsTsac51wafSPv6wYgHoBX3VTsXtKKJj7nAVzWSvdw7BvZYfUXYXrxKioEJ-GMUyq98TfoIVdP7868kgJKc2jnyNw6d0b9lVE5SsEtmLAzucr2ODahiM_fG2boPugy6y7jEvrfbnt8k/s1600/Screenshot-463.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCsTsac51wafSPv6wYgHoBX3VTsXtKKJj7nAVzWSvdw7BvZYfUXYXrxKioEJ-GMUyq98TfoIVdP7868kgJKc2jnyNw6d0b9lVE5SsEtmLAzucr2ODahiM_fG2boPugy6y7jEvrfbnt8k/s640/Screenshot-463.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Hi Absolon, did you sleep well?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Yes, thanks."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"There's some breakfast downstairs if you're hungry."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Thank you again, Verona, for letting me stay here. I have a question, though, how were you so unafraid of letting me into your life, especially when you know about my past?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Verona smiles at me and lays down at the foot of the bed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I should tell you a story." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I sit up on the bed and give her my attention.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ejtVREkbaZ3GfopgWnKvJRjZzKl9AP5vRypdrIc1yS9aR5w4ZJuMErlD3qPrfVyFlhVGh-U8BFs65GXju5_Gi_J7pnthwUFcPqbwju5G2zhBfdatMpko7p2Rd2R13Hqqh8g530ovFoY/s1600/Screenshot-464.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ejtVREkbaZ3GfopgWnKvJRjZzKl9AP5vRypdrIc1yS9aR5w4ZJuMErlD3qPrfVyFlhVGh-U8BFs65GXju5_Gi_J7pnthwUFcPqbwju5G2zhBfdatMpko7p2Rd2R13Hqqh8g530ovFoY/s640/Screenshot-464.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I knew that you were homeless already, long before I offered you that job. I noticed you with your guitar in that park plaza across from the bookstore. I knew you slept there because I'd often see you asleep on the bench when I drove home from work. Not to sound creepy, but I kept an eye on you, and you seemed like you were just a guy down on his luck. I've seen other homeless people before in this town, and they don't do much. You stood out because you had a guitar, and I sensed you weren't homeless because you were lazy. Then when you started playing in front of the store and I heard how good you were, I saw your potential. It takes dedication to play the guitar that well."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"You knew, and you still let me stay here."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Everyone deserves a second chance, Absolon."<br />
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<div>
It's class time again and Camo and Titanium's minds are wandering, filled with thoughts of their new friends.<br />
<br />
"Hello class. I cannot stress the importance of not getting in too deep with The Strangers. We have had some residents in the past who have made this mistake and ended up miserable, or worse, dead. If you are talking to The Strangers, your sole intention should be to guide them here to this house where we can help them."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8P2SPe6Fs69IrwMIrNbkdgnVXEjYugeKIMH8gC4os9K3kdB47TxCx2CIju3EQhVBjFUn7wUX8_Ki4kI-CB9vqsCdo996Tun5GY0yhfpevKD_y5vnOPGqbMO8f6adefB_tuY2DQ_dTZ4/s1600/Screenshot-471.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq8P2SPe6Fs69IrwMIrNbkdgnVXEjYugeKIMH8gC4os9K3kdB47TxCx2CIju3EQhVBjFUn7wUX8_Ki4kI-CB9vqsCdo996Tun5GY0yhfpevKD_y5vnOPGqbMO8f6adefB_tuY2DQ_dTZ4/s640/Screenshot-471.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When the teacher talks about residents who have died, it makes Titanium nervous and intrigues Camo. Zinfandel doesn't seem to be affected.<br />
<br />
"Whoa! Who died?"<br />
<br />
"Well, Camo, we had a resident once who broke our rules and developed romantic feelings for a Stranger. She started seeing this boy regularly. Eventually, she became addicted to heroin because of him, and she died of an overdose. If she had heeded our warnings and not let the relationship go that far, she would never have gotten hooked on heroin and she would still be with us today."<br />
<br />
Zinfandel raises her hand.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpYDngzs0Es6kLFb66WBKsVJI5sjJ988vqlleDONdjtlrQhHXNH8X6RFIw0A5Wey8T2nLp_mHLJNpfhPtib8Tr9Igglr-870eM-_WgxKFor_0W4qw97iZ38sYTvjZhCSEsokrXwMsL91Q/s1600/Screenshot-470.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpYDngzs0Es6kLFb66WBKsVJI5sjJ988vqlleDONdjtlrQhHXNH8X6RFIw0A5Wey8T2nLp_mHLJNpfhPtib8Tr9Igglr-870eM-_WgxKFor_0W4qw97iZ38sYTvjZhCSEsokrXwMsL91Q/s640/Screenshot-470.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Did this resident try to guide The Stranger to this house?"<br />
<br />
"No, she did not. She foolishly let her guard down and exposed herself to all of the dangers that The Stranger had to offer. We would have helped her had we known she was involved with him, but she kept him a secret, and she died because of him."<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
I told Kalya that we were going to be letting one of Verona's friends stay in our guest room because he had nowhere else to go. She was reluctant, but she trusts me. It's not like I'm running a homeless shelter or anything, it's just that Absolon reminds me of myself at that age, a young boy trying to find his way in life and I wanted to help him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJ6bxuoVi1PIZmvVznGbcvoYKONJ28QWH2TNJFcRh50ZeWDXoXyJxAq-Koc4Yz7va18T2zlLDe2sf_i7DioaJUL6V8RFgkGVdryif9cKHEFyH-Epp47PjF56K0cDn0Kj3vIGfTRz4CCw/s1600/Screenshot-465.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJ6bxuoVi1PIZmvVznGbcvoYKONJ28QWH2TNJFcRh50ZeWDXoXyJxAq-Koc4Yz7va18T2zlLDe2sf_i7DioaJUL6V8RFgkGVdryif9cKHEFyH-Epp47PjF56K0cDn0Kj3vIGfTRz4CCw/s640/Screenshot-465.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I grew up poor, in a small house on the outskirts of Silicon Shores. My parents were nice people. They were just unlucky and a little unmotivated. My dad was on unemployment and my mom kept trying to take welfare checks from the government instead of finding work. I wanted to get out of poverty and do well for myself. I had the ambition and the drive that they didn't, so I got two part time jobs to try to help my parents. With some of the money I made, I went out and partied, while the rest of the money went to pay the bills. Partying was good stress relief until I got sucked into cocaine. It started out as a casual thing, but before I knew it I was hooked, and I kept needing one more hit. Doing drugs and having no money didn't really go well together, so I stole stuff from my work and pawned the items to get money for drugs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcb4DtazNRGUDAfzoVZqXEhtloSwPbspZDFZ-KAYOmigUz8fuNCydx8lFEUM9P8IuwHLPPKZezUgS9mSBlQxJ3FhAFk3T12M-QftirMGxmruRYDzHDnLGTdtBqpyP_FYzoyPQZYfXSIs/s1600/Screenshot-466.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcb4DtazNRGUDAfzoVZqXEhtloSwPbspZDFZ-KAYOmigUz8fuNCydx8lFEUM9P8IuwHLPPKZezUgS9mSBlQxJ3FhAFk3T12M-QftirMGxmruRYDzHDnLGTdtBqpyP_FYzoyPQZYfXSIs/s640/Screenshot-466.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Even though I was a good thief, I got caught eventually and put in jail for shoplifting. The court couldn't prove I had stolen as much as I had, so I got a light sentence. Being in jail gave me time to think and I was pretty sure this was not the way to get myself out of poverty. I also went through some serious withdrawal and was court ordered to go to rehab after I had served my time. Knowing where I've been and seeing where I am now makes me believe that a horrible past does not have to define the present.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<b>Did the teacher's story about the resident who died affect you in any way?</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybc66lDtgrBityVUyPMS3BnpIbSBmPwGUjzdWoZ-HaLuWM2Y1SSMUqH28AbVe5l9u3-hBnsM0iUaOaY80uV7lEmNCCRQe8nUeH6OjOrfjZLkXHUaTwpM3HMJhXK4Pwlbd8lYJJwaDxE8/s1600/Screenshot-474.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybc66lDtgrBityVUyPMS3BnpIbSBmPwGUjzdWoZ-HaLuWM2Y1SSMUqH28AbVe5l9u3-hBnsM0iUaOaY80uV7lEmNCCRQe8nUeH6OjOrfjZLkXHUaTwpM3HMJhXK4Pwlbd8lYJJwaDxE8/s640/Screenshot-474.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
Yes. I was scared of Absolon because he was a Stranger, and I held onto that label for him even though I wanted to be his friend. The 'what-ifs' always freaked me out.<br />
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
Titanium and Camo are in their room chatting with each other.<br />
<br />
"Wow, can you believe that girl died?"<br />
<br />
"It scares me, Camo. We could get killed out there."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, we could, but we could also die of boredom in here. Besides, I doubt Absolon will do anything to you. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMI8a4QBCzeYlAVZO5qOQ8JPHpl06hjYSRz_u2xvlsUGLhNF_qbJ8pkr56fk_PdEsfBrB8NiqJJPTcHRUvO1uiHRTUd8bMsMjIZDdGhdXvdG_Q8zNa1V_67VGQi68qMJDY2rY5909NHI/s1600/Screenshot-472.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMI8a4QBCzeYlAVZO5qOQ8JPHpl06hjYSRz_u2xvlsUGLhNF_qbJ8pkr56fk_PdEsfBrB8NiqJJPTcHRUvO1uiHRTUd8bMsMjIZDdGhdXvdG_Q8zNa1V_67VGQi68qMJDY2rY5909NHI/s640/Screenshot-472.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Titanium blushes when he thinks of Absolon's sparkling pink eyes and how much they stand out when he wears that sexy eyeliner.<br />
<br />
"He'd probably kick the ass of anyone who tries to touch you."<br />
<br />
"You're probably right. He is pretty built. Do you ever get scared of Verona?"<br />
<br />
"No. She likes me."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, but don't you ever get scared of what she might do? Like what if she tries to hurt you with a weapon or drugs?"<br />
<br />
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lXppF-3IXychyphenhyphenMT5q0ZOpwOEZpMEF71HXY3Zr0UxiEg4k_ohKmQw1oJ3uX8u96TS9QJrCIwfDlOI2soJgs09R58CBhz9joc3iENdQvDmaCRx_crsWUXKHjO3fCFXZC6RDQE7suYZdvE/s1600/Screenshot-473.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lXppF-3IXychyphenhyphenMT5q0ZOpwOEZpMEF71HXY3Zr0UxiEg4k_ohKmQw1oJ3uX8u96TS9QJrCIwfDlOI2soJgs09R58CBhz9joc3iENdQvDmaCRx_crsWUXKHjO3fCFXZC6RDQE7suYZdvE/s640/Screenshot-473.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Maybe. But what's to say you won't attack me with a weapon? I'm not going to judge her and think she's bad, just the same as I don't judge you and think you're bad. I'm going to believe that she's a good person, just like I believe you're a good person."</div>
<div>
<br />
Titanium ponders what Camo says. He's confused because he still thinks of Verona and Absolon as The Strangers, since they're not part of The Compound. Titanium thinks that they're nice people, but he still separates them from him and Camo. Titanium does admire Camo because he always makes him think differently.<br />
<br /></div>
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
There's a knock on my motel room door. I find this weird since I didn't tell anyone where I was staying. I open the door and see Andromeda standing there. Her eye has started to bruise. I feel really bad for punching her and take her into the room. She pulls away from me and rolls her eyes.<br />
<br />
"Where is she, Enigma?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bk9ueF9IdeB0rcg7tQ7F-HVRsQISobNyzevNuNcnXQ3qEeSyh9nOyVQEdf83ePGNegs8J1wgPrQ9hpmNx1dU-bJvOrXjs4hmAb2CrF08B7OPrCXK-AxISOt3AUHPEUHeKOBt8rvz-Rc/s1600/Screenshot-467.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bk9ueF9IdeB0rcg7tQ7F-HVRsQISobNyzevNuNcnXQ3qEeSyh9nOyVQEdf83ePGNegs8J1wgPrQ9hpmNx1dU-bJvOrXjs4hmAb2CrF08B7OPrCXK-AxISOt3AUHPEUHeKOBt8rvz-Rc/s640/Screenshot-467.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"There's no one here but me, Andromeda. You can look around, you can check my phone, do whatever you need to."<br />
<br />
I calmly sit down on the bed. I am just so tired of fighting with her. She runs around the motel room, checking the bathroom and even the shower. She opens the drawers on the nightstand and checks the closet. When she's done and hasn't found anything, she sits down next to me. She sticks her hand out and glares at me.<br />
<br />
"Phone."<br />
<br />
I take my cell phone out of my pocket and gently put it in her hand. She looks at me a little surprised that I'm not mad at her, I guess, and searches the call log.<br />
<br />
"Wow, you really haven't called anyone in months, have you?"<br />
<br />
I shake my head and look down.<br />
<br />
"I told you there was no one else."<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcKfyRZF9ySPSMyPm2-jCvJoLW7xsFZ8JH2nWjuw2hl_1mntoF1D-eOxm1NVFNB4_4uGEE9buuwoU72I4iYTwlrlqCgVYDwrsY_SFbWEVYl-RPcWX8OkdVUWwmBpXkA84CMIJbkKAGSk0/s1600/Screenshot-468.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcKfyRZF9ySPSMyPm2-jCvJoLW7xsFZ8JH2nWjuw2hl_1mntoF1D-eOxm1NVFNB4_4uGEE9buuwoU72I4iYTwlrlqCgVYDwrsY_SFbWEVYl-RPcWX8OkdVUWwmBpXkA84CMIJbkKAGSk0/s640/Screenshot-468.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
<div>"Enigma, I'm sorry. I just assumed that since you didn't want to be with me, that you..."</div>
<br />
"Who says I didn't want to be with you? We've got our problems, but I do love you, Andromeda."<br />
<br />
If I was surprised before, I'm even more surprised now when Andromeda puts her head on my shoulder and actually hugs me. I put my arm around her and hold her close. I don't want this moment to end.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixCN4HENkJLGQGvOEzUtD4rWitzxeogmvJp02cAy41bntEQzgRvJu-BixvTGRi2uYZ9if27JH3JtupcUPzw5WeTwTOC5HkDpSBHFSYf59nUKHx5zi0QMy5UTRU8FMGDwd1K2CmwCzd-vA/s1600/Screenshot-469.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixCN4HENkJLGQGvOEzUtD4rWitzxeogmvJp02cAy41bntEQzgRvJu-BixvTGRi2uYZ9if27JH3JtupcUPzw5WeTwTOC5HkDpSBHFSYf59nUKHx5zi0QMy5UTRU8FMGDwd1K2CmwCzd-vA/s640/Screenshot-469.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<hr color="blue" width="75%" />
<h2>
CREDIT: <a href="http://mypalsims-poses-for-sims-3.blogspot.com/">Mypalsim's Poses for Sims 3</a></h2>
</div></div>LateKnightSimmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07641353218072486154noreply@blogger.com13