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26 April 2007

The Addicts Aftermath

My Devil locked himself in his room for three days, the others phone and phoned me telling me he would kill himself. They begged me to go round there, all I could say was, ‘I can’t’.

I wollowed and pined, I was hurt and I didn’t quiet know what to do. I was assuming I was still a virgin but was not sure. I spent hours reasoning with myself that I would have felt sore or somehting if he had actually managed to do anything.

Drugs = syringes and syringes = aids and I didn’t even want to think on that. I wondered if I should go and get tested but I did not know where to go and I thought I might have to pay and I had no money. An apathy eat away at me, my course work seemed such a huge struggle, what had I done? Would my friends still talk to me?

I trembled at the thought of pregnancy but was too painfully scared of shops to buy a test, besides my mother knew everybody I couldn’t be cuaght buying a pregnancy test and they are really expensive when you only have a tenner a week. I didn’t tell anyone else what had happened – I felt it was all my fualt. I missed him as well, stupidly enough, if he had phoned me himself I would have probably run straight back to him.

I tried to tell my mother, I wanted help I wanted to know what was the right thing to do. Remember that I really didn’t know what having sex would feel like, so ashamed of my body had I been that I hadn’t even used tampons, nothing, not so much as a finger had been inside me so I didnt know weather I would be sore – I knew hymens bleed when broken but my Mother had told I wouldn’t have a hymen as I rode a bike.

She kept going on about what a nice boy the Addict was and why had I broken up with him? I tried to tell her but before I could she luanched onto a story of her own. About how she had always wanted to be a virgin until marriage but that some man had spiked her drink and that she was so glade that she had given me the ware with all for this not to happen.

She went on and on about what a horrible experience it was and about her STD and about how I would never get myself in that situation and thats why she was telling me so that I wouldn’t make the same mistake as her.

I wanted to shout that she was too late but I sat there in silence being talked to. Now I couldn’t tell her, I couldn’t crush her. I was alone.

I now know that he hadn’t done anything, but i also know that he wanted too, he said the others had told him they had given me something to losen me up and he hadn’t been thinking. last I saw him he was clean, had a lovely girlfriend and was back at college, should I have left him? I cant equate what happened in my head with the ‘date rape’ stuff and certianly not with bloody Hollyoaks.

I write about these things becuase I have trouble in leaving them in the past. He admits he was screwed up, he was more a child than I was, a lost abandoned child living above his granddads shop his family having split and both perants desserted him.

I wish I could have trusted someone, anyone enough to have actually spoken about this. The friend who rescued me was to cuaght up at the time in her own private life and we weren’t to talk of events until nearly two years later – by which point I had convinced myself that it was a fictional event. I once again doubted my memory and my sanity.

25 April 2007

The Addict/My Devil

My Devil was a strange mix of needy clingyness and leaving me for weeks without so much as a phone call. At first I thought this was how it was supposed to be. We would meet up and it was all passion and lust though again we never had sex.

I found that to my suprise it was not me who was stopping the sex, he just never actually tried. He would dry hump me for hours and it was me who undid my trousers, me that allowed him access to my breasts – this would have been considerate of him though he had never asked if I was a virgin and the general consensus was that I was not.

Without the red make up on I saw that his skin was covered in strange red marks, I asked to be told that he had a liver problem. I was concerned about his drinking, something that they all did instead of eating. He smiled and kissed me. We would walk for hours discussing the more abstract side of sci-fi.

Back at the flate I would let him and the other boys tie me up, their favourite was to put clothes pegs on me, attatched to a rope/tape thing, then they would pull it off of me. I was so nieve that I did not realise that this was a sexual thing, I thought we were all just mucking about, I also thought that it was a normal part of what boyfriends and girlfriends did.

Now don’t get me wronge its not that I didn’t like this treatment becuase I did but I didn’t understand what it was and what annoys me is by this point they knew that I hadn’t exactly done anything with anyone. I feel that them doing this to a virgin that did not understand what it was was an abuse of me. The thing is I would have probably let them do it anyway – if they had explained – if they had asked.

Ultimatly though I know that the blame does lie with me, I would sit there passively and let them do all this. I never said no and even when I was in My Devils bed I would lie there afraid to react, horny but afraid.

I doubt with hind sight that they even knew what they were doing, My Devil was acting strange, he seemed to like this sort of thing happening but if I was to try and just, say talk to one of the others he would come and claim me away. My eighteenth came and I was wearing the catsuit I had designed, it was flared becuase I’m me, but it was black and looked good with the black lipstick and little silver tiarer.

They came along and the club played Placebo and PJ Harvey and Terravision, and Do Harst and a host of others and I love dancing and would dance the whole night away. I would have if he hadn’t kept grabing me, making me forcibly sit on him, I really begain to resent this, it was the pattern when ever we went out. I wasn’t allowed to be me, I wasnt allowed to dance I had to sit with him, I felt like a prize, I had to be on his arm so everyone could see.

He had been getting thiner and their ramshackle flate with its bare peeling walls stedily filing will the most fantastic graffitti and manga doodles had become somewhere that I didn’t like and yet I was drawn to.

Drug use, extreme to my young eyes, became apparent, people collapsed around candles, strange sickly sweet smells, later there were syringes. I didn’t ask what they were taking, I didn’t want to know, as if not knowing would absolve me of the guilt. I would just sit there and fret about them all, checking vitial signs panicking that they would die. Horrible people begain to hang around their flate, I remember trying to consol My Devil when one of these hangers on stole £500 worth of stuff from the flate to feed their own habite.

My Devils eyes were dull, were was the guitarist, the man who would be a music engineer? And then he turned to me after weeks of ignoring me, I had heard nothing form him, his flate mate had had to sell the one phone they’d had between them, he hadn’t had any money to come and see me as had spent everything on drugs and alcohol, he hadn’t eaten for days. I had wanted to dump him but now he was suicidial and crying at me and I didn’t know what to do.

I could not go and see him very freely due to parental restriction and the fact that I earnt £10 a week doing two sodding paper rounds and that was all the money I had – I would spend £5 of it to get into the Club once a week and then just hope that drinks would appear from somewhere else – I used to smuggle bottles of water in as it was just before the clubs were made to have free water (well in fact it had already come in but wasn’t yet enforced).

Then to systematicially trying to get me to drop my A’levels, why put my self through all this stress? he would ask, I could come and live with them. They would form a band and I could sing and and and and…

I wanted out, I wasn’t happy but I got a phone call from his brother telling me how great it was that someone was finially looking after his bother, caring for him. He was getting thinner and thinner and more suicidial and I was eighteen and I’m afriad selfish. I didn’t want to be dragged down into their world, I saw it as a dead end, I wanted to rescue him but it became apparent I couldn’t and he was becoming more and more restrictive over what I was allowed to do.

Then to his birthday party and to the thing I feel so guilty for, I dumped him, dumped him on his birthday after he’d come to my birthday, and had valentines, I dumped him.

I had been trying to work out how but I had not wanted to do it around valentines day as he’d got me a presant and I felt it would be unfair. By this point I thought of him as The Addict and yet I could not sever the ties. I could not brake off the relationship.

Then his birthday party – he gave me the perfect excuess, he gave me fear of a new kind, he gave me guilt and paranoia.

I do not know what was going through his mind, I think he didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted and my strange combination of horny fridgedness did not help. I was giving out more than a few confussed messages, he had a solution to this.

No that is unfair he said he hadn’t known. His flate mates gave me a huge glass, they told me it was a refersher cocktial, lemonade, refreshers, gluclose tablets fizzing in the bottom, it was a strange yellow colour. I smiled and begain drinking it.

And then its a jumble of memories, nothing much, my female comrade was there apparently I spilt alot of the drink. She went off with her boyfriend.

I dont remember anything, I awoke groggy and confussed, someone was tugging at my jeans – this had awoken me, my trousers and knickers half way down my legs. I tried to scream for help.

I remember struggling out of the bedroom, my female comrade was there and she held me up as I couldn’t walk, there was shouting.

Everyone came to see what was going on, I was confussed and disorientated, laughter over the spiked drink. I looked at him, he tried to reach out for me but my friend pulled me away shouting that I didn’t want to go out with him anymore, ‘is that true?’ he asked sounding lost and small.

‘I can’t,’ I said and then becuase I am me and I knew this to have been my fualt I said what I always end up saying, ‘it’s not you – its me, I just can’t do this.’

He burst into tears and I wanted to hug him, wanted to go to him, everybody was watching but I was in a fog, the aftermath of what ever it was they had given me.

My friend dragged me away and we sat in a park until I was normal enough to go home.

I have found this stupidly hard to write about – I hadn’t realised how difficult it would be.

24 April 2007

My Devil

Seventeen, hurt and confussed by the Rugby Player Vampyra pulled a psuedo goth geek. His dark hair and blue eyes had her entranced though she had been aiming for his flatemate. She literally fell into his lap. Luckily she was now a size ten.

It was Halloween and she was dressed a Celestia the gentle sister of Hades who bring the little sleep and comes for the sick child so they will not be afaid to go to paradise. Flares and black velvet dress, curly hair cuaght in am archiac style and a sythe her brother had fashioned for her in his craft lesson at school. Glitter featured heavily in her appearance and she was shy, this being the second party she had been to there.

He a devil covered in red paint with little home fashioned horns in his hair.

The Rugby Player had been flurting with her but had once again hurt her by taking the female Comrade she was there with and seducing her, whilst making lude motions at Vampyra. Confused hurt and slightly vengful she sort to not be left as a wall flower.

There they were the hosts, the boys she had known only fleetingly at school, the boys that had shoved snowballs down her blouse front, that had tied to convince the little first year to come behind the sports hall with the fifth and sixth formers. The boys that had seemed so inaccessible to her then though they had (according to them) been trying to seduce her even then.

They smiled at her and she blushed, Vampyra had her eye set upon ADHD boy in his Scream outfit but was unsure as her mother had ranted at her about the unsuitiblity of people with ADHD and Dyslexia form breeding and though the Queen did not feel that anything would be that serious there were always accidents and the parental parania was lodged.

They chatted to her, played on her thirst for knowledge, physics, space, scifi, she lapped it up – entranced by those boys who seemed so daring and wild and exotically dangerous.

My Devil was there and so was ADHD boy and they told her of the tutors they had had at college, and they sympathised when she spoke of the Chemistry Harriden.

My Devil was the quitest but the one with the most knowledge and he cuaght the Queen as she toppled over backwards on the settee arm, she was sitting in his lap and he was cradling her. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Starkling he resembled the King though he was paler with darker more lustrious hair. He stroked away her hair and then they were kissing, and kissing and then people where complaining so they stopped and blushed though you could not have told that with his red make up. I sat next to him, stomache sumersualting, he was a strange kisser, slightly cold in temperature but I reasoned that one person is always going to feel colder than the other.

His arm was drapped protectively over my shoulders, something I would come to dread, something that marked his possessiveness. Being blessed with a small bladder I had to leave his warmth in that too cold flate. I returned and he was standing, did I want a drink – yes? Fine lets go into the other room.

There we were and I was giddy with their attention, just talking to me, praising me for kissing My Devil, telling me how nice he was. I drank the drink offered and wondered at its taste, then feeling giggly knew that I needed to drink the stash of softs I had with me though I had bought beer to ‘donate’ to the party.

Moppily, I told of the struggle with Chemistry and they told me how they had all dropped out one by one and then the Resit Guy I had a crush on from said Chemistry class appeared, winked at me and turned out to be a good friend of theirs. Time spiralled and the night wore on and then it was a game of trueth or dare, I aware that I was four years their jounior felt lame and pathetic at my innocience beliving the playground lie that I was the only virgin left – a heavily guarded secret.

And so they asked a question I would not answer and thus my dare – to strip, no I would not, ok a strip tease dance with out the strip – fine.

And so I was on the table and I danced to I’m Horney and they appluded and lifted me bodily from the table and then ADHD Boy was failing to hide his erection so obvious in his black robe custume and the others laugh at him. Then to my own sexual reacted to this, the intensity alarming me and I was not sure how to react and so the game continued with results such as wanking in a wine glass and drinking it.

I sat in the middle of these men and some how felt wanted, felt needed, felt that my sexual disires were not wornge nor bad as I normally did. The other girl there was flashing everything but they ignored her for some reason which highly perplexed me – I still do no actually know why.

And then Radio Head Ok Computer was put on and I found myself sobbing at them – over my failure in Chemistry, of my failure to be good at anything no matter how I tried and then ADHD boy is telling me that the Moldy old Chimstry Hag probably never gave anyone one of these, showing me his erection once more. I smiled and we laugh and then My Devil was there laying claim to me, understandable now that I come to write it and I did not notice that it was a possessive move at this point anyway.

The Rugby Player was in an argument with another Comrade over my female Friend, I looked on and became jelous obserdly and she was off giving another guy a blow job in the toliets and she was worth his time was she? Whislt I was nothing?

‘Whats wronge,’ whispered my Devil, ‘nothing’ I replied and did exactly the wronge thing. I kissed him passionatly and he moved us to the edge of a bed in the room. I smiled to myself selfish in that instant, this was better than the kissing of the Rugby player, better and I wanted more. He was all over me though I remained dressed, horney but fridged in my guilt racked religon soaked mind.

And then ADHD Boy laughs and points to the fact that my female friend has made her choice of the Rugby player and ushers everybody out of the room and turned the lights out on the four of us, a bed per couple.

And then My Devil was leading me out of that room and into his, I was giddy with his scent and I was fighting the battle within myself. I wanted to be bad, I wanted to be good, I wanted a hard shag but was petrafied of rape. I was quiet frankly screwed up in my head.

And it was cold there as they could not afford heating and so we were under the covers and he was ontop of me , dry humping me and I shuddered with it, and gasped at his touch through my cloths. He was gently and did not push me, did not ask for sex did not even grop me much just was there dry humping. His bed was broken and slumped in one corner so I huddled near him, feeling that strange scense of closeness I had never known, feeling somehow important and needed and he shock with the intensity, he told me it was a reaction my presance was cuasing.

I awoke and everyone slept but my female friend who wanted to leave and so we left, I was unsure as to the nature of the kissing and dry humping. I assumed having learned from my previous experience that it ment nothing though it had me giddy and loathing to leave.

He was not awake, My Devil slept peacefully and I did not wake him, I left thinking that was what I was supposed to do.

Sunday passed in a strange sleepy blur of attempted course work and then it was college. The Pink Queen was waiting for me in our normal meeting place at the end of the day but this day to my suprise there was My Devil. I stopped unsure.

I panicked slightly and he did not come over so I worried I had been arrogant in assuming him there for me. The sun was still warm and golden and he looked up and then away from me. Others of that group come over to me and started talking and then he was there next to me, for some reason I was freaked that a 21 year old had got into the college even though they took students up to that age on.

He asked me why I’d left, I blushed and explained I had to be home, he had been worried he would never see me agian and he wanted very much to see me. He was worried that I had just left why had I not awakened him?

And so he got my phone number though he had no phone nor landline.

I felt a strange pride and fear at having been tracked down like that.

And so a srange a relationship begain.

23 April 2007


‘I am not a house wife!’ I cry in indignation.

‘Keep kidding yourself,’ Motobike Girl says.

I glare.

‘Look I like doing certian things like extravagant cooking sure but I am not a housewife, homesteader, mother yes – housewife no.’

‘I dont know why your so upset I want to be at home being a housewife.’

‘Well I dont I am broared stiff ok.’

But you are making all those preserves and wine and things and you have the Lady! How can you be bored?’

‘Becuase I am ok – I am making all those things becuase I am bored. I can’t stand normal cooking for a start – sure I can do a four course meal for 12, cater for 60 people, no problem but breakfast lunch and dinner? I am sooooo sick of it I can’t even begin to tell you.’

I have a brian and I want to use it, and beleive it or not the Lady sleeps and then I can’t even read things too her or show her how to colour and yes I love that stuff but I need more.’

‘Why? I want to have a man ask my fathers permission, marry him and have kids and stay at home.’

‘Thats great people should be able to choose… ASK HIS PERMISSION?’

‘Yep, didn’t the King?’

‘No of course not! The only person whos permission he needed for marrying me was mine! Plus I had the golden rule that if anyone dare ask my Dad for permission before asking me would be shown the door very very quickly.’


‘Becuase this is not the fiftys and I am not a juvinile or prossession that needs looking after thank you very much.’

‘But you got married?’

‘Yes and did you notice that our vows were arranged thus that one is not obedient to the other?’


‘We hyphanated our names and if the King hadn’t had to fight so hard for his name and had still had his mothers he would have taken mine, in fact he would taken mine if I’d insisted but he had such a struggle to get his name back I could not do that to him.’

‘But why do you want to work?’

Sigh, ‘Becuase I love my subject and want a career.’

‘Then why did you have the Lady so soon?’

‘You know why, carreers can wait, your health can’t. Besides the King wants to be at home with the kids.’

‘That would be stupid though wouldn’t it and do actaully you trust him to look after them properlly?’

‘Yes of course! And why would it be stupid? He can work from home on stuff he likes, I can’t. I need labs and big pieces of shiny equipment.’

‘But he can earn more money than you!’

‘Yes but how much money do you actually need? If I can finish my education and stuff then I might actually be able to earn more than him.’

She still doesnt get it though, mean while I have pretty much the opposite conversation with another female friend – about how stupid I’ve been destroying my career and how she’s told her partner he will have to work and not stay at home with the kids as he can earn more than her being male.

I told her to take the system on but she wasn’t having any of it – I do not consider my choice stupid and I would go through all that hell again – even knowing the out come for me. If my health had been even moderatly ok then I would be finishing my Masters course but they didn’t and I am living with the consequences but that does not affect my initial desion to have a family.

Why should I have to choose?

More to the point why to people act like I have two heads when I say that it is the King who wants to be the homemaker – he loves cooking, he loves the house work, he hates the stress of being in the ‘bread winner’. He’s great with kids would make a great house husband – I on the other hand make a pretty poor housewife.

Of course I do not see why either of us should have to give up our careers to have a family – but unfortunatly even with the steady increase of automation in every area of our lives we seem to still need to work longer hours than anyone else in – erm at least Europe!

Domestic arrangements should be between the people in the relationship – if you want to be a housewife fine, if you want a career fine, if you want to be a house husband fine, if you both want careers or both want to be at home – comprimise. Obviously single perants do have a problem as in they have no one to compromise with – their life is hard work – and scary – imagine being ill and a single perant? Not nice not pleasant – so don’t start on them please.

Now for me and the King the ideal would be for both of us to work three days a week – a different three days – this would be perfect but our society is still not lexable enough for this – it is getting there though. the second choice would be me working and him at home – unfortuantly I am ill and he can earn more money than me.

He can earn more money than me mainly becuase he is older than me and was already on the career path when we met – I was/am a student.

Friends telling me they will not allow their partner to stay at hime but expect to be allowed to stay at home annoys me on so many levels. This is not equality – I’m sorry girls but its not.

Having said this I also have female friends who find themselves doing everything, they are expected to work, look after the kids and keep the house tidy – they are in the minority and they are not coping well (well one of them is) – this too is not equality – all they’ve ended up with is another job ontop of the housework and kids.

I want to bash everyones heads together.

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