I’ve fought for as long as I can and I’m tired. I just need to feel euphoria for once in my life at the hands of another before I let my body rest until it turns to nothing more than dust after the worms that dwell deep in the earth have eaten away my rotten exterior.
“Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return,” I whisper to my heart. It beats furiously in response and it causes me to stop walking for a moment, lay a gentle hand on my chest, and tell it that it will be okay.
I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath before I force myself to continue. A car comes down the street, the headlights blinding me enough to raise a hand and shield my eyes, but it disappears as quickly as my will to live does each morning that I open my eyes.
I hate this feeling.
Being alive was something I never asked for and it’s not fair that I wasn’t given a choice.
But now I do have a choice to end this bedlam that the universe has deemed mine to grow inside of my mind on a daily basis and it ends tonight.
It has to because I can’t keep fighting these thoughts for much longer.
In no time, I’m on Duran’s street and walking toward his home. I can see it coming closer and no matter how desperately my body fights me to slow down, I fight against it and continue my fast pace.
Once I’m two houses away from his, I push my hair behind my ears, and decide that maybe I should see if he’s feeling destructive tonight before I knock on his door again and beg him for his mercy.
I move past the hedges, staying hidden in the shadows, until I reach his window. My window, I correct myself.
I put my hands on the sill of his half-opened window and peer inside.
There’s nothing at first that catches my attention. I can hear the television on and some program I don’t know running. I don’t own a television because I find no point in hearing more voices than the ones that are constantly warring inside of me.
I’m ready to let go of the sill and walk away when something small and bright lands on one of my hands.
I look down and smile.
I’ve never seen fireflies so close before as I rarely leave my home, but this is special to me.
Of the few things I remember that my mother taught me before she left, the meaning of fireflies is one of them. They are a reminder to let your light shine and to follow what you desire the most in your life, Georgie. Don’t let anything stop you when you see fireflies, because they’ll only sing their serenade for those that truly need it.
And when a small group of them come closer, dancing around me, I see it as the sign I need to know that I’m doing the right thing.
Chapter Five
I’m standing on Duran’s porch, my hands clasped firmly in front of me. I haven’t knocked yet because I feel that he should just know that I’m here.
After ten minutes has passed and no one has approached the door, I finally raise a small fist and rap gently against the door.
“Just a minute!” comes the muffled response.
I sigh as I put my hands together again and wait as patiently as I can. A sound of something heavy being moved greets my ears next, before another few moments passes, and the door is pulled open.
“Yeah?”
His annoyed glare melts almost immediately into a curious smile as he realizes that it’s me. He pulls open the door the entire way as he steps out onto the porch, forcing me to take a step back.
“George, right?” he asks curiously.
I nod.
Duran is dressed so beautifully tonight that I know he has plans. And those plans obviously didn’t involve a visit from the strange girl that lives two blocks away.
“Got another package for me?” he teases, his eyes becoming friendly and welcoming.
I shake my head.
He pulls the door closed behind him after turning the knob and making sure it’s not locked, then leans back against it, his hands sliding into his pants pocket as he waits for me to speak.
A black vest, a white, crisp dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and the shiniest shoes I’ve ever seen in my life.
I feel like I’m dressed as a beggar now asking for some spare change, but I don’t think he even notices what I’m wearing, let alone cares that I’m here.
“Sweetheart, I have to get back to work here in a little bit, so what’s up?” he presses gently.
“Can I come in?” I finally ask.
I know that my eyes are sad when he reaches a hand out toward me and runs it gently down my arm.
“I have company,” he replies gently.
“I’d like to come in,” I repeat, my lower lip quivering.
“It’s not a good night, George. Is something wrong, though? Do you need something?” he asks, crossing his arms across his broad chest.
“Yes.”
“Well, what is?” he presses, his voice losing a touch of it’s patience.
I reach up and push my hair behind my ears again, look into his eyes and see the reflection of fireflies dancing in them.
“You.”
Chapter Six
My bold response is enough to turn his faltering smile into a small grin as the wheels in his mind blatantly begin to turn.
“I already have company,” he says slowly as he begins to rub his chin thoughtfully, “are you a jealous girl?”
“No.”
It’s the truth.
I don’t know what jealousy feels like so I can’t admit to something I’ve never felt before.
“George, I know you’ve seen what my vices are—is this something you’re absolutely sure you want from me? Because to be quite honest with you, I enjoy that you watch me. It makes me perform better and brings more pleasure to the woman I choose to be with for the night.”
I feel a small shock of electricity go through my body. I was right—he did know that I had been watching him and that he tells me now that my eyes on him makes him feel the way that they do …
“I … I could watch again,” I reply nervously.
“I think that would be best,” he agrees with a nod.
“But I want to be inside,” I say again.
Duran raises an eyebrow, blows out his breath, and looks me quickly up and down.
“Just this once,” he says, holding up one finger.
Once is all I’ll need.
***
“George, this is Linda; Linda, George,” Duran says as I sit at his dining room table. I unfold the cloth napkin that he sets down in front of me, my eyes on my lap, as I nod a greeting without looking at her.
“Hi,” she greets me cheerfully. “You didn’t tell me you had kids, Duran,” she teases him. He replies with an amused laugh as my face burns crimson in response.
“Because I don’t—George is a friend I’ve recently had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with.”
After he places a plate as red as my face in front of me, he squeezes my arm reassuringly. I steal a glance up at him and his eyes tell me that I shouldn’t feel as ashamed as he knows that I do right now.
I manage a small smile for his sake, and he nods, disappearing back to his kitchen, and returning with a set of utensils.
“Help yourself, sweetheart; there’s plenty for everyone,” he tells me as he sits down and continues the meal I had so rudely interrupted.
“Thank you,” I mumble softly as I reach forward and attempt to cut a piece of meat from the massive pork shoulder sitting in the middle of the table.
Linda begins conversing with Duran, and I can feel their eyes watching me curiously as I struggle to saw through the meat. Without so much as the slightest acknowledgement of my struggle, Linda brings a glass of wine to her lips and rests a hand on Duran’s arm, but he shrugs her away and gets to his feet.
I can feel him behind me now, his body pressed gently against the back of my head as he places a hand on mine, and shows me how to properly slice a piece for myself.
“Thank you,” I say softly as together, we pick it up with the large knif
e and my fork and place it on my plate.
An affectionate ruffle of my hair, a chuckle, and then he’s back in his seat, continuing his conversation with Linda.
I don’t know what they’re talking about because I’m not listening. I’m too busy trying to figure out when the show will begin because that will be my time to shine.
If he’ll have me that is.
An hour passes until we’ve finished our meal. Duran and Linda had finished twenty minutes before me and were patient for the most part while I filled myself with as much of the food as I could.
It must be damn obvious that I’m not used to eating this well because Duran suggests dessert next. It makes me smile because the last time I had dessert was before Mother left and she had served the most amazing warm apple crumble with two scopes of vanilla ice cream for the side.
It’s strange the small things that one can remember to help hide the stains of all of the bad.
After he’s served us both and sits back down, I feel their eyes on me again. The first scoop of ice cream and I feel like I’m intruding on a special night, but I won’t be so easily removed.
Not when I still haven’t gotten what I came here for.
Chapter Seven
We’re sitting in the living room now and my blood is burning like fire in my veins. Linda is sitting on Duran’s lap and the way her hands explore his body is enough to make my core begin to pulse.
But she stops, resting her hand on his bulge, and smirks at me.
“George?”
“Yes?” I ask, fighting the urge to slip my fingers under my robe.
“How old are you? Because this is going to turn into a big kid’s party in a few minutes and I don’t know if this is something you should see,” she quips with a smirk.
I blink a few times.
She’s attempting to sting me with her words and in an odd way, it works. I feel tears forming, threatening to spill over, and I have to do my best to keep them at bay.
“Sixteen,” I reply softly.
Duran looks at me with disbelief in his eyes as Linda chuckles. “Run home, sweetie. This isn’t for your eyes,” she instructs smugly.
When I make no attempt to speak or get to my feet, she lets out her breath impatiently. “You do realize we’re here for Duran’s birthday right? He’s turning thirty-eight when the clock strikes midnight, and I’m sure you’ll understand why this isn’t for you.”
I look down at my hands for a moment.
I have only one option that I can honestly pick right now and leaving isn’t it.
“Be nice,” he chides her quietly.
He wants me here.
I get to my feet and walk into the kitchen. Because we went from dessert straight into the living room, I see what I need to hurry this night along. Using the back of my hand, I wipe the tears away before they have a chance to fall over and then take my festivities starter back with me into the living room.
Linda is kissing Duran again.
His hands are sliding up her skirt.
I walk over to where they’re sitting on the couch, grab her roughly by the hair and pull her away from him.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell her softly as I press the blade of the large butcher’s knife across her throat and begin sawing at her flesh.
And this time I know I’ve done it right because he only moments ago showed me how to properly cut through a pig.
Chapter Eight
I drop the blade on the carpet when I’m done as Duran quickly pushes Linda’s twitching, gurgling body off his lap. I walk back and sit in the chair I had been watching them in and wait.
He looks down at her, his eyes wide as her body’s convulsions begin to slow down and I find myself becoming even more aroused at having taken a life than watching him ruin another one.
I hold my hands up and look at the blood that’s coating them, then lean back as best as I can and pull the bottom of my robe up, exposing my cunt. Duran looks at me, his mouth in an angry tight line as I spread my legs and slip a finger into my wet opening.
As I begin to move my finger in and out, he gets to his feet and pulls free the belt that Linda had managed to undo before I sent her on her way and comes over to stand over me.
“Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of the fucking carpet?” he growls at me.
I bring the heels of my feet up onto the couch and slip another finger inside of myself.
“I’m not sorry,” I tell him in bated breaths.
“Dirty little girl,” he snarls as he reaches down for me and roughly pushes me onto the couch. He brings up the back of the robe, forces me onto my knees, and lays the belt across my bare ass.
I close my eyes and let out a yelp as I slip my fingers back into my pussy. He strikes again and my eyes are watering again but this time because I’m finally thrilled to get something I’ve wanted for so long.
I’m so used to being abandoned and ignored, but this man—whack!—knows that I—whack!—deserve to be happy just—whack!—once.
He reaches down and forces two of his own fingers inside of me, stretching me out to a width I’ve never been before as he drops his belt and reaches for my hair. He grips the bun and arches my back as he continues to use his fingers to fuck me becoming in-sync with my own.
“How many cocks have you had inside of you, little George?” he breathes into my ear.
“None.”
He chuckles as he pulls his fingers out of me, then forces my own out after him, and turns me onto my back. Duran lowers himself over me, hovering for a moment as he looks into my eyes and smirks.
“Clean,” he instructs as he shoves his fingers into my mouth. I suck as he instructs me to because I’ve done this enough times to myself after nights spent outside of his window to know how to do this well.
“Why me, then?” he asks, shoving his fingers down my throat and making me gag. I reach for his wrists in a desperate attempt to pull his hand away from my mouth, but he reaches for the back of my neck and forces his fingers down a little further.
“Can’t talk?” he muses with wild eyes and danger lurking in his touch. “Then I guess I’ll have to teach you to speak when you’re spoken to.”
He pulls his fingers free and shoves me to the carpet. I land hard enough to scrape my elbows, and I know that the sting I feel will leave a mark of sorts, but I don’t care.
This is what I came for.
Chapter Nine
Duran has a knee digging into my chest, pinning me to the carpet, and he leans down, firmly turning my face toward Linda’s now dead body.
“That was sloppy and unnecessary. Lucky for you, no one really gave a shit about her. Though I will say that if anyone comes to my home looking for her, I will send them to you. This is your doing, not mine,” he warns, his tone turning to dry ice threatening to burn me to ash.
“Now before I have you clean up your mess, little girl, I’m going to give you a treat,” he continues, finally removing his knee and taking the crushing feeling with him.
My lungs feel like they’re on fire, my throat is raw, and my chest feels like it’ll cave at any moment, but this is true Heaven and I want nothing more than for him to continue.
“On your knees,” he commands in a low, seething tone. I struggle at first because my body is more damaged at this point than it ever has been, but I do as I’m told. “You’re going to tell me a secret, and if it’s good enough, I’ll give you your treat.” Duran looks down at me, crossing his arms over his chest and peering at me with Hell in his gaze. “Begin.”
I wrack my brain.
I don’t know what Duran would see as “good enough” but I want whatever it is he has to offer me desperately and so I tell him the one thing that destroyed me so long ago.
“My mother left me when I was five years old,” I start softly. “I watched my father beat her to death with his bare hands from the kitchen cupboard he kept me locked in for as long as I lived there. I don’t remember her much, but I do
know that she fought for her life because she didn’t want to leave me with him.” I lick my lips as the memory comes rushing back. “And when he realized what he had done, he came to the cupboard to retrieve me. I … I think he was going to do the same thing to me, but when I looked up at him with teary eyes and a quivering lip, I’m sure he saw that he had destroyed my world. So instead of ending me right then and there, he picked me up and took me with him into their bedroom.” I run a hand over my face, a shuddering breath escaping me as I look up into Duran’s eyes. “He pulled his gun out of the nightstand, kissed me on the cheek, and shot himself while still holding me.”
His reaction, while seemingly interested in my tale, stays cautiously blank as I rest my hands on my knees.
“All I’ve ever known is death and loneliness. I don’t remember what it’s like to feel needed or wanted, and I honestly don’t care to. I just want to be with my mother and the only person that can send me to her the same way that she left me is you. Please … finish what we’ve started.”
Chapter Ten
His body is pressed firmly against mine. He’s pulled the belt free from my robe and has undressed himself, the head of his cock positioned at my opening.
This is a man cares about nothing other than his own pleasure.
Just like Dad, I think as I close my eyes tightly.
“Look at me, little girl,” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck as he lowers his lips to my bare skin.
“Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want,” he says, reaching down to grab hold of his cock as he begins to push it into me.
My eyes widen at the feeling of intense pressure. I’ve never felt this before and while it hurts a bit, I can tell that it’s something that will eventually turn into a pleasurable experience. I dig my fingers into his back as he begins to move his hips, a low moan escaping me, and he smiles in return.
A Serenade of Fireflies Page 2
