The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley - Страница 1
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CARNAGE
BOOK #1
THE STORY OF US
by Lesley Jones
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organisations or places is entirely coincidental.
Carnage
Copyright © 2013 Lesley Jones
All rights reserved.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author.
WARNING
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
AUGUST 1999
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
EPILOGUE
For my family,
for your love, support
and words of encouragement,
I love you.
CHAPTER 1
I was swinging upside down by my knees on the monkey bars in our back garden the first time I met him; my best friend Jimmie and I hanging, facing each other, eating pop rocks and singing what we thought was a stellar rendition of ‘Liza Radley’ by The Jam at the tops of our voices. We had heard my big brother Bailey listening to the B side of the 12 inch version of the single ‘Start’ the week before and saying that he liked it better than the A, he had been playing it nonstop for the last few days. So we had listened to it and learned the words, because Jimmie was in love with each and every one of my three big brothers and was convinced that if she knew the words to their favourite songs, they would notice her and I can’t say I blame her, they’re all very good looking, Jimmie just hadn’t decided yet which of the three she was going to marry. Lennon probably wasn’t really an option as he was already sixteen and we were after all, only eleven. Bailey, my eldest brother was eighteen, so that pretty much ruled him out too, so as far as I was concerned, it had to be Marley, the brother closest in age to me that she had to marry, and it was his legs I was pretty sure I could see approaching us from the back of our house.
“George, I can see your knickers, get the fuck up will ya!”
Yep, that was Marls, I had no idea why he was moaning though, he usually loved seeing Jimmies knickers, in fact, I had heard him beg to see her knickers in the past, and then I saw them, the other pair of legs following Marley up the garden towards us. Monkey Boots? Whoever was approaching us was wearing Monkey Boots. I love Monkey Boots, they were already on my Christmas list, despite the fact it was still only August. My thoughts were interrupted by a very loud wolf whistle. I had heard boys do this before, my Dad and my brothers did to me when they knew I’d put a lot of effort into an outfit and my Dad did it to my Mum every time she came down the stairs, dressed and ready for the day and it always made me so happy that he did that. But this, this whistle did something to me that I didn’t quite understand, it sent feelings through me that landed in places I was only just realising had feelings. That sound woke something up in my body that I never even knew had been sleeping there.
Jimmie and I swung up at the same time, grabbed the bars by our hands and dropped to the floor, I was pretty sure we were in complete synchronisation and looking like a pair of Olympic gymnasts. We turn towards Marley and take a bow, then collapse into each other giggling like the pair of eleven year old girls that we are. I looked back towards Marls who wasn’t laughing; he was in fact glaring at the pair of us. I tipped my head back and emptied what was left of my packet of pop rocks into my mouth, letting the tiny little orange shards explode over my tongue.
I look back toward my brother, waiting for the popping to stop in my mouth so I could give him some attitude about the shitty look on his face when my world suddenly stopped turning, it stuttered for a few seconds, then restarted, erratically matching the rhythm of the candy exploding inside me but when I swallowed, the explosions didn’t stop, they went down into my chest and on into my stomach, settling uncomfortably down low in my belly, for some reason the sensation was causing my brain to cease its connection to my mouth, leaving me devoid of speech. I was eleven years old, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt I was staring into the eyes of the boy I was going to love forever, they were big brown eyes and locked onto mine from over Marley’s shoulder, he stared at me for a little too long, his eyes then moved down my body and locked onto my chest. Yeah I was eleven, but two years ago I’d started to develop boobs and was now already wearing a B cup, most of my friends were jealous but I hated it, everything started to change when my boobs grew, the boys treated me differently, they knocked on my bedroom door now instead of just barging in, they never came into the bathroom if I was in there anymore for our long chats we used to have while I soaked in an overly full bubble bath, they never pinned me down and tickle tortured me like they used to.
Then just under a year ago, I got my first period and things got worse, we lived in a nice house, on a nice street in a nice area. I had always been allowed to play out late because my brothers were always around to look out for me; we were a large group of about twenty kids, boys and girls, varying in age from ten to about fifteen. It was harmless, sexless fun, innocent, we hung out at the bench on the corner, at the park across the road or down at the little row of shops a street away, up until I got my period, nobody asked who in particular I was going out with, who else would be there, as long as one of my brothers were around, I was fine to go where I liked, with whom I liked. But getting my periods changed everything. I felt interrogated, where are you going, who’s going to be there, will there be boys? That’s all they seemed to want to know now, whether there’d be boys involved in anything that I was doing outside of our house and at the time I didn’t get it, it never occurred to me that at just aged eleven, I could, potentially, get pregnant! My Dad wasn’t at home much so it was my brothers that dished out the discipline, my Mum was around but she left it to the boys, to tell me off if I got home late or couldn’t be found in my usual hang outs if one of them came looking for me, usually Bailey or Lennon as I gave Marley too much shit. I didn’t see why he should be telling me what to do, he was only thirteen himself, and not an adult, yet funnily enough, Marley was the strictest out of all my brothers.
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