This is the newest Nobody Fiction. (Also the only one on this board, but thats besides the point) I would really appreciate it if you guys gave me completly honest replies. If it sucks tell me. If it smells like cow dung on a hot summer day let me know.
Don't say "This Rocks' just cause ya'll don't want to hurt my feelings. I will be very happy if you tell me exactly what you think.
So please, please Please give me some honest replies.

Your Author and Friend-

Amberlynn


Healing Process



Rated: R for violence, language, and adult themes.

Disclaimer: I own the idea, the fictional charectors, and the name. My friend Jessica owns the name of the resturaunt. Dom owns himself (For now). Elijah, Billy, Orli, and everyother celebrity types also own themselves. Please don't steal these ideas. I'm a nice person, I wouldn't do it to you.

(Intro)


My cheek feels hot and stings as salted tears slide down my face silently. I stare at the reflection in the mirror. My normally bright green eyes are watery and full of pain, my pale face is tear stained and pink, and an angry red hand print graces my cheek. My blonde hair is pulled from its once neat pony tail, bit of it stick to my wet face.
I look like hell.
My muddled mind races to the prior engagements. He came home from work in a foul mood. His dark hair had been messy and I had noticed a smudge of red lipstick on his neck. It confirmed my suspicions of his affair. It hurt me as I prepared his dinner, to imagine him with another.
Then when I spilt a glass of milk and then yelled at him to back off he grabbed me by the back of my head and slammed me to the wall. Then he grabbed my neck and held me there, telling me how worthless and stupid I am.
I told him to go to hell and he slammed his open hand into my face, stars had taken over my vision and I had collapsed. I laid there in a wounded heap until the front door slammed shut, not moving, letting him think he’d knocked me unconscious like so many times before.
Now I stare at myself, or at least a fraction of what I used to be and listen to the cruel words bounce in my head. Once I had been a very independent person. Once I had been free to do as I wished. Once I never let anyone tell me what to do.
Then I met Mike.
I fell in love, and I fell hard. The first year was great we loved each other and we hardly ever fought. I turned twenty one and we decided to move in together. We lived together for a year and then things got rough. He started working later and later at the office- he’s a lawyer.
Then finally one day I came home late from a lunch meeting with some friends and he turned on me. Accusing me of going behind his back and seeing someone else. He started yelling that I was worthless and that no one would ever want me besides him. And he told me I should be grateful to even have him.
The abuse had started. It was May, I believe and I had been planning my upcoming twenty third birthday. I had been excited and energetic.
It started slowly. First it was just control and telling me mean, hurtful things. Then one night I didn’t want to have sex and he forced himself upon me. And then he started hitting me when I talked back or stayed out to late with friends, or even looked at him wrong.
The whole time I believed what he said. I believed that no one would want me; I believed that I was ugly and useless. I dropped all my friends and started staying at the house. I cleaned and cooked, and satisfied his desires. I did anything he told me too.
He started getting mad about little things. If I read the wrong kind of magazine article, or the wrong book, he would hit me and curse at me. If I watched the wrong kind of show on TV or saw the wrong kind of movie, he would burst into a fit of rage, which usually left me battered and bruised. If I made the wrong thing for dinner he would hurl the plate of food at me and slam me into the wall.
I always believed him when he told me the horrible things about me and then said he was sorry after hitting me. I believed him when he said he loved me. I believed him. I believed the lies.
Now I know that he is nothing. A worthless worm that has no control over me anymore. I am stronger than him now. I am-
Shit, he’s home.

Wow, awesome beginning! A nice diaryish format. I hope she kicks Mike's ass!!

Can't wait for more!
Love,
Cat

That was so sad....
If where her....I wouldn't let him do that.
He had to kill me first....

^_^
post more soon

woah, powerful start, plenty of...intrigue...heh

actually it reminds me of this great poem some girl said at the last poetry slam i went to that he me in tears by the end :cry: *coughs* in a good way. great great

can't wait to see how it plays out!

ps. I agree Cat, she needs to kick his arse to mars or something. horrible ugh :anger: guys like that make my blood boil...*sighs*

:cry: OMG post more please!!! **hehe** I'm toooooooooo excited!!

:blink:
Wow, good stuff. How sad, though. That poor girl!!

"HE" is such a lunatic!
:anger: <---- That's what I say to him!

Post more soon?

~Stacy~

Ya'll are great.
I'm glad you like it.

And I totally agree.

I hate guys like that. They should be uhng from their feet from..... a palm 'tree'. And We should be allowed to throw coconuts at them.

(The Escape)



“Oh my god, Marilyn,” Misty- my older sister- hugs me tightly as we stand on her doorstep.
We stand there like that for a while. She’s holding me to her tightly, wishing she’d never let me go on that first date with Mike. I’m holding her tightly smelling the coconut from her shampoo in her blonde hair.
I left Mike while he was at work one day. I packed all of my stuff, rented a car and drove from Boston to LA. Mike had called my cell phone a few times and before I chucked it out the window as I passed a semi truck. When I had arrived in LA I wasn’t sure where to go, and then I pulled into Misty’s driveway. I sat in the car for a while before getting up the nerve to knock on the door. As soon as she opened it I told her about leaving Mike because he hit me.
Now I’m standing on the doorstep of my sister’s house in Santa Monica. She’s hugging me as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear. Granted we haven’t seen each other in two years, and now she’s finding out I’ve been tangled in an abusive relationship with a man she thought was perfect for me- but once you can’t breath it’s time to stop hugging someone.
“Misty, air! Air!” I cry.
She lets go and steps back, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I was… scared,” I mumble, my gaze dropping to my feet.
A car pulls into the drive way next to hers. Music blares and then four guys get out and make their way into the house. We stand there, me studying the ground, her watching me.
“Lets get you inside, you can unload your stuff tomorrow,” she says, putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me inside.
Her house is clean, the living room is picked up and nice and white. The kitchen is shiny and spotless. The hall is uncluttered. The office is in perfect order. The bedrooms are neat and comfortable. The garage that houses her blue Mercedes is in perfect order, like the office.
It reminds me of our Aunt’s house. She kept it spotless all the time.
“Your house is very nice,” I say, my voice sounds distant, almost as if it’s someone else’s.
“Yeah, it’s a lot cleaner than Mom’s house,” she answers, “Have you seen Mom?”
“No, you’re the only one that knows I’m here. You and the guy at the gestation,” I shrug.
She nods; her pale blue eyes study me. We used to be really close. Especially after our Dad died and Mom became depressed. She has always been my role model. She’s strong, smart, and dedicated to her daughter- Abby.
Now her eyes are full of concern and pain. I haven’t seen her in the last two years because of Mike. She’s been calling and writing and I’ve ignored her because I was scared of my boyfriend.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, looking at the black shoe lace of my dirty joggers.
“Oh, Marilyn, it’s not your fault,” she says hugging me again, “He was… he was wrong. He’ll pay for this, I swear.”
I hug her back. Mike is going to kill me if he ever finds me. I can’t stay her for long, Misty and Abby will be in danger.
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” she continues, “I’m going to protect you now.”
I rest my head on her shoulder and close my eyes. I feel her shuddering with sobs as she begins to cry.
“I can’t believe I never checked on you. I should have known something was wrong,” she says, her voice full of tears and sorrow, “You’re my baby sister, and I failed you. I should have been there.”
She thinks it’s her fault.
I want to assure her there was nothing she could do. I want to tell her it isn’t her fault, it’s mine. I should have been stronger. I should have walked away the first time. I should have come here sooner.
But I didn’t. I was weak, I was stupid, and I was in love.
I promise, right now, never to fall in love again.

Please don't give up on love!
:(
That's sad. At least she's safe from the prick though.
:anger:
Please post soon?

~Stacy~

no...she giving up in love!!
what a day thing...:cry:
that was great!!

(First Day)


“Aunt Marilyn!” the happy squeal of a little girl is what awakens me the next day.
I open my eyes to find the blonde, curly haired replica of my sister, Abby, sitting on my bed holding her stuffed rabbit in her arms. He face has a huge grin on it, so full of innocence and happiness.
“Abby!” I squeal, forcing the happiness into my voice.
I hug her and kiss her forehead. Abby is six, meaning Misty became pregnant when she was twenty and in college. Not that Misty let that interrupt her college education. Misty completed college a year and half ago and is now a family doctor.
“Aunt Marilyn did you come to visit me?” Abby asks standing up and bouncing on the large bed.
Misty had insisted I use the special guest room. She put fresh clean blue sheets on it and I pulled my favorite blanket out of the rental car. She has already started bringing in boxes from the car. Three of them are stacked against the wall near the door.
“I absolutely did,” I answer tickling her.
“Yay! We can play dolls and go swimming and get ice cream and watch movies with my friends and then have sleepovers!” she says in a rush still bouncing.
“That sounds wonderful!” I say with forced enthusiasm, “But I don’t think your mommy would want you jumping on the bed.”
As if cued by an invisible director of a movie, Misty walks in carrying one of my boxes. She looks from me to Abby, a look of knowing in her eyes.
“Were you jumping on the bed?” she asks.
“No,” I answer.
It’s not really a lie. I wasn’t jumping on the bed. Abby was.
Misty gives me an unsure look and then smiles, “Glad you’re awake. You need to shower, dress, and help me.”
Misty is a very bossy person. She always has been, she likes to be in charge. That’s one of the reasons she would never have gotten her self into my position. She wouldn’t have let Mike push her around.
Abby pouts, “Mommy, can Aunt Marilyn please play with me? Please?”
“Abby, I’ve got some things to take care of first,” I say.
“Abby, why don’t you go over to Elijah’s and see if the Astins are there, okay?” Misty says.
“Okay,” Abby agrees, hoping down from the bed and running out of the room.
“Astins?” I ask getting out of bed and stretching.
My whole body is sore, and it’s not just from traveling. The morning before I left Mike had gotten pissed off because I didn’t cook his eggs the right way. He’d thrown me down the basement stairs after giving me a few hard kicks to the ribs. That had been the last straw.
“Yeah, my neighbor has some friends, Sean and Christine, they have a little girl that Abby just loves to play with,” Misty shrugs stacking the box neatly on another one.
I nod distractedly.
“Come on. Hurry up, I want to return the rental car and show you around,” Misty whines like a little kid.
I smile and head out the bedroom door to the bathroom.
Like the rest of the house the bathroom is in perfect order, and spotless. I start the shower and let the water adjust to the steamy hot I prefer. I strip off the night shirt that Misty had lent me and look at my bruised body in the mirror. A large purplish yellow bruise covers half of my stomach. There’s a large bruise on my back and my left leg has a few dark bruises covering it. I wonder how I ever survived this long in a house with that man.
I sigh and get in the shower. The hot water stings until my body grows used to it. I let it run over my wishing it could wash away the past. Wishing it could clean Mike’s touch from my body. Wishing everything he did would go down the drain.
Yet still I know somewhere inside of all the pain and terror he’s caused I still love him. I still feel as though he is the only one who’ll ever love me. I still think he’s right.
I’m ugly and fat and no man would ever think of loving me. He is the only one, and I was lucky to have even him. He’s the only man that would ever understand my stupid blabber and my idiotic mistakes. And even then he can’t stand it when I make stupid little mistakes.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I let out a strangled sob. I sink to my knees in the bathtub and rest my head in my hands as pained sobs escape my lips. I sit there like that until Misty knocks on the door.
“Hey, Sis, you alright?” she asks, her voice concerned and caring.
“Yeah, I’m just fine,” I says, my voice is a lie of what I’m feeling.
“Okay, well, hurry up,” she says before leaving me.
I stand up and finish up with my shower. After driving that far it feels good to finally be clean. I get out and return to my room. I pull clean clothes out of a box and dress quickly. I force my wet hair into a pony tail and hang the towel in the bathroom to dry. Then I put my joggers back on and go out to help Misty.
She hands me a box, which hits one of the bruises on my stomach and I gasp in pain.
“You okay?” She asks concerned.
“Oh, yeah, I’m just really sore from the trip,” I lie biting my lip and taking another box, carrying them into the house.
I stack them next to the others and return to help. Soon the boxes are all stacked nice and neatly in the bed room. Misty goes over to her neighbors house to check on Abby and I brush my hair into a neater ponytail. I grab my messenger bag with all my important stuff in it and wait for Misty out by the car.
The neighbor hood is rather nice. All of the houses are large expensive houses with manicured lawns and perfect paint jobs. Most of them have expensive cars in the drive way. I wish I’d lived here the whole time, rather than being in Boston with Mike.
“Okay, Christine said she wouldn’t mind watching Abby for us, so we can go,” Misty says coming a crossed the lawn.
I smile, “Are you sure she’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, Christine is a mother, so I’m not worried. Besides I’ve known them for about a year now. I trust them with Abby,” She says opening the garage, “I’ll lead.”
I get in the rental car and back into the road. I wait for her to pull out in front of me then I follow her to the rental place. The drive is long and quiet. I don’t listen to the radio. I just drive.
Finally when we pull into the rental place, which is near the airport, I relax a little. Misty and I walk into the office and I stand in line for a moment.
“Hello Miss, how may we help you?” a cheerful lady at the counter greets me.
“I’m here to return a car I rented. I rented it at your Boston branch,” I say pulling my paper work out.
“Okay,” she says cheerfully, typing at the computer.
“And charge the mileage and everything to this card,” I say handing her one of Mike’s credit cards, that I’d swiped.
I’d taken three of his precious cards and a large amount of his money before I’d left. I’d also locked him out of the house.
“Alright,” she says cheerfully taking the card and sliding it in a reader.
I sign the paperwork she gives me and I take the card.
Misty leads me to her car and we leave the rental place behind. We drive in silence for a moment before coming to a red light. She turns to me and stares.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
I look at her with a smile, “Of course. I’m here with you.”
“No, is your body alright? I don’t believe that little fib about you being sore from the trip,” she says, her pale blue eyes are narrowed.
“I’ve got a couple of bruises, that’s all,” I answer.
“I’m taking you to the police and you’re filing against him,” she says changing her course.
“Misty, this is LA,” I say.
“You’re very smart,” she says sarcastically.
“I’d have to be in Boston to file charges against him,” I say.
She glares at me and then notices the light changed, “So, we’ll take a trip to Boston.”
“No. I’m not going back. We’ll just leave it at that,” I say crossing my arms.
She sighs, “Fine, but I think you should press charges for abuse and battery.”
“Well you aren’t me,” I answer.
We sit in an uncomfortable silence for a while.
“Okay, well, my neighbor is having a barbecue tonight, and he’s invited me and Abby. I’m forcing you to go,” she says after a while.
“No, I’d rather not impose,” I protest.
“He invited you when I went over to check on Abby. Abby told everyone you were visiting, and he said it’d be great if you joined us,” she assures.
Great, I’m here not even twenty four hours and she’s forcing me to be social. There are some things I really hate about Misty. Like her need to be sure everything one is having fun. That’s probably a side affect from our mother’s depression.
“Besides, if you didn’t talk to me because of Mike; I’m very sure you don’t have any friends,” she says.
I sigh and drop my head back against the seat, “Whatever.”
“Okay, so what are you wearing?” she asks.
“This,” I answer.
She studies my baggy blue jeans and oversized t-shirt, “No, you look horrible.”
“Well, all of my clothes are like this,” I say.
“Then we know what to do, right?” she asks.
“What?” I ask nervously.
“Shopping. We can max out Mike’s card,” she says with an evil glimmer in her eye, “And he’ll just have to live with it. Because if he sets one foot near my house I’ll kill him.”
I smile. Misty is very protective. I wish I’d gotten here sooner. She’d have saved me from a lot of the damage.
“Well?” she asks.
“Alright,” I answer.

that was great!!
haha....making out his card with show him!!
:laugh:

That was great!!

^_^

Hiya! New reader here! Story's great so far! I'm very glad Marilyn got away when she could. It's horrible that men hit their girlfriends/wives...Arg!

If she uses the credit card, won't he find out where she is? He could trace it...

Great story! Hope to read more!

Julie

Hi Julie!

*Dances*

New Reader!

You'll see

Ah Crap! He's goign to find her :no:

oh no! i hope stupid mike doesn't come after her (though i'm pretty sure he will! ugh!)

Abby's a cutie lol, course, little kids tend to be cuties lol :bloom:

great great story so far :yay: can't wait for more

:wub: Abby's soooooooooo cute!! **hehe** I love the girl :D please post more?

Abby's my favortie. I just love her!

(Maxing Out)


Misty runs around the store like she’s a little kid in a candy shop. Which she probably is. She’s always loved clothes, and at one point in time she wanted to be a clothing designer. Which she could have done. She has an amazing talent for matching and redesigning clothes.
“Try this, and this, oh and this,” she says handing me three different shirts.
I take them to a dressing room and try them all on. Each of them are low cut and tight. Mike would kill me if he ever saw them. I model them for Misty and she approves of all of them, then hands me more things to try.
This time it’s jeans. All of which are tight and low cut. I even try on a pair of the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen. Then I try on dresses, that by the way are extremely sexy and form fitting. She makes me try on a million things before settling on about half of them.
We charge everything to one of the card and then move to a different store. This time it’s more of a casual store.
I try on a few sundresses while Misty browses the racks for clothes. I’m pulling a light yellow dress on when she bounds up to me with a large pile of clothing. I get the dress on and she smiles.
“That looks really good, you should get it,” she says.
I nod and take the clothes into the dressing room. One of the sales ladies is standing near by telling me how wonderful I look in everything. Even though it’s great to hear someone saying things like that, I don’t believe her. She’s just trying to make a sale.
I know I look horrible in most of it.
After trying one millions of clothes, we present the cashier with the card. She smiles as she rings the total up and I realize I’ve just about killed the first one of Mike’s cards.
Instead of a wave of terror washing over me, I feel like I have a little bit of freedom. We hit another store with one of the other cards.
After a few hours of what seems to be endless shopping Misty thinks we have enough. She only THINKS we do. This means that I’ll be doing some more shopping soon.
We take everything back to her house. She helps me carry the bags up to my room and then goes over to retrieve Abby. I hang the shirts and dresses in the large closet of my room and fold the jeans nice and neatly and place them in the dresser. I unload the large quantity of pajamas and underwear we’d purchased and shove them into drawers as neatly as possible.
“Aunt Marilyn! Guess what!” Abby bounds into my room full of energy and excitement.
“What?” I ask as I drop another set of underwear in the drawer.
“Elijah’s gonna have a Barbie cue!” she says, “He said we’re going to roast Barbie!”
I laugh as Misty comes in, “Abby, you know that Elijah was just playing.”
“But, he said so,” she protests.
“Well, then I think you should go hide your dolls,” I suggest.
She nods her eyes wide and runs to her room.
“Let’s get you unpacked,” Misty says opening a box.
She opens a box and pulls out a teddy bear she’d sent me for my birthday last year. She sets him on my bed and then pulls out a pair of baggy blue jeans.
“You won’t need these,” she says dropping them on the floor, “We’ll make piles of clothes to give to shelters.”
I nod, knowing that if I did protest she’d win anyways. One thing about Misty that I’ve always admired is her debating techniques. She could win any argument instantly, because she is persuasive, and intelligent. All reasons she’d never have gotten herself into my position.
We empty all the boxes, putting away the things I’ll keep and tossing the clothes and pictures I won’t need. One of the rejected pictures catch me eye. It’s actually a rather good picture of Mike and me at a party. It was taken before the abuse started.
I was wearing a simple light blue dress that fell to the floor, with long sleeves. It wasn’t form fitting or low cut. But it did look really good. Mike was wearing a nice button up shirt over a white t-shirt and pressed pants. We’d been happy then.
“No,” Misty says ripping the picture in two.
“What?” I ask staring as the picture falls to the floor.
“No second thoughts. It’s over. Done. Finished,” she says.
I nod numbly, wondering if she’s right.
“Now, I’m going to make some lunch, you want anything special?” she asks, standing and taking all the discarded pictures and clothes and dropping them in an empty box.
I shrug and start putting my teddy bears collection up on the dresser.
“Okay, I’ll probably make macaroni and cheese,” she says before leaving.
I’ve always collected teddy bears. Especially polar bears. When I was younger my Dad would bring me home bears when he went away on business or if I’d been sick, or even if I’d gotten a good grade on a test. He’d bring home different teddy bears, and I built up quite a collection- all of which I’d brought with me from Mike’s house.
Mike never bought me teddy bears. He thought they were childish and stupid. And he always made me feel childish and stupid about my love for them. He’d threaten to burn them all the time.
I was always afraid I’d wake up and find them all torn to shreds. I kept them in boxes so that he wouldn’t’ mess with them. They were always out of site.
“Aunt Marilyn! You have teddy bears too?” Abby bounds into my room clutching her toy rabbit.
I smile and nod.
“I didn’t know big people like teddy bears,” she says almost shyly.
“Well I do,” I say placing a purple bear on the dresser.
She looks at all of them and then picks up a black bear with a red heart on it, “I like this one the best.”
I smile and place that bear on the dresser, “My Dad got me him.”
She looks sad for a minute then looks at the bear, “I wish I had a dad. Then he could buy me teddies.”
She smiles a real big smile before bouncing out of the room with her rabbit.
I guess Misty doesn’t want Abby’s father involved. Whatever.

Aw :cry: poor lil Abby, I'LL BUY YOU A TEDDY BEAR!!! :bloom: *pouts* *sniff*

loving your fic :yes: and i can't wait til we get to meet all 'the lads' lol :shine:

(Barbie Cue)

Misty forces me to wear a pair of low-rise blue jeans she picked out and a tight fitting blue tank top. I fight her about the shoes. I am not wearing the new high tops she chose, or the running shoes, and defiantly not those high heeled boots. I’m wearing my beat up old joggers. I like them.
She makes macaroni salad to take over, while I make potato salad. I can’t stand macaroni salad. I find it very disgusting. Potato salad on the other hand, that’s just yummy. Abby carries over a little red wagon with a case of Pepsi and two old Barbie dolls.
Misty knocks on the neighbor’s door and a tall dark haired man with soft pudding brown eyes opens the door. He smiles when he sees us then turns and yells into the house.
“Elwood! Your neighbors are here!”
“So let them in, you moron,” comes a voice- supposedly Elwood’s- from somewhere in the house.
“Okay, come one in,” the man says standing aside to let us in, “They brought food!” he calls.
“So bring them to the kitchen!” comes the voice again.
He leads us to a large kitchen filled with other people.
“Oh, Misty! Great, you came,” a brown haired man with extraordinary blue eyes says eyeing the bowl in my hands.
“Yeah, and we bring food,” she says sliding her macaroni salad onto a counter.
I set mine down next to it and step back, standing slightly behind Misty. I’m nervous; most of the people here are men. The dark haired one, the brunet- Elwood?- two guys sitting on stools at a breakfast bar drinking beers, and a man with a dark haired woman near the fridge.
“And who is your lovely friend?” guys on the stools asks, he’s got a Scottish accent, and a large friendly smile.
“Is this your sister?” The blue eyed brunet asks with a smile.
“Yes, guys, this is Marilyn. Marilyn this is Elijah, Orlando, Billy, Viggo, Sean and Christine,” Misty says introducing me to everyone.
Elijah makes a move to shake my hand, but I just stare. Everything gets a bit uncomfortable. Even my comfy old joggers are uncomfortable.
“Elijah, I brought you two dolls!” Abby says handing Elijah the battered dolls from her wagon.
Elijah stares at the dolls in his hands for a moment then looks at Misty for some help.
“For the Barbie Cue,” Misty says helpfully.
He smiles then kneels next to Abby, “Well, we decided that it would be mean to torture the dolls. So we’re going to cook food.”
She cocks her head to the side and frowns, “Fine. I’m going to go play with Alexandra then.”
“She’s watching TV in the living room,” Christine calls after her as Abby bounces away.
“So, you’re from Boston?” Orlando asks.
I nod quietly as Misty sits down next to Billy and Viggo. I stand awkwardly, the center of attention.
“Is this potato salad?” Elijah asks examining the bowl I’d brought over.
“Yes, Marilyn made it herself. She’s quite the cook,” Misty says proudly.
“Great, I love this stuff,” Elijah says excitedly.
“You like Boston better than LA?” Billy asks.
I shrug. I think they are both pretty cool. I mean, I grew up here. But I’ve spent about three years there.
There is a knocking of the door that saves me from any other questions at the moment.
“I’ll get it,” Orlando says.
“No, I will,” Elijah says leaving to answer the door.
We all sit in silence for a moment before Elijah returns with another man. This one is actually kind of cute. He puts a case of beer in the fridge and pulls a cold one out.
“Why hello,” he says spotting me.
I want to shrink or something. I do not want to be noticed. I want to hide and stay hidden.
“Dom, this is Marilyn, Misty’s younger sister. Marilyn, this is a friend of mine, Dom,” Elijah says.
“Wonderful to meet you,” Dom says taking my hand with out my offering it and kisses it lightly. I shrink back a little and he smiles an amused grin, “My breath isn’t that bad, is it?”
He’s charming and cute. I wish I wasn’t scared of him.
“So, Dom, would you mind giving me a beer?” Billy asks as Dom drops my hand.
“Of course not Bill! I live to serve you,” Dom says turning and pulling a beer from the fridge.
“Then could you give me a foot massage?” Billy asks taking the beer.
“No, your feet smell,” Dom says sitting next to Misty.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Elijah asks pulling a beer from the fridge.
“A beer would be fine,” I say softly.
Elijah hands me a beer and starts taking things out the sliding glass door to the grill on the back porch.
Everyone moves out there, sitting around the large patio table. I sit quietly as everyone talks about this movie or that movie. It takes me a while before I realize that they are actors, and they’re talking about movies they’re working on.
Now I feel stupid. Any normal person would have recognized them immediately. But not me. Nope, I’m just too stupid.
“I can’t believe it’s over though,” Elijah is saying.
“Oh great, here it goes,” Dom teases.
Elijah shoots him a dirty look.
“What?” I ask curious.
They all look at me a little surprised.
“The Lord of the Rings movies,” Billy says in his Scottish accent.
I nod slowly. I’ve heard of them but never seen them. They were something that Mike didn’t want me to see. Not that I’m going to tell that to these guys.
“Have you seen them?” Elijah asks.
I shake my head. Nope, never.
“Marilynn isn’t much of a movie person,” Misty adds to my shaking head.
“Oh, well they’re pretty good. And they’re this big three-movie-series. We just released the last one,” Elijah says with a shrug.
I nod as if I understand. I don’t really care. It’s just a movie right.
“That’s where we met, filming the movie,” Elijah adds.
Oh, it makes more sense now. They met during a movie and now the movie is finished.
“Oh,” I answer sipping my beer.
My beer is almost gone. I really don’t want to get another. I finish it off and set it down in front of me. I think no one notices the empty bottle.
“I’m getting another one. Anyone want one?” Dom asks getting up, “Marilyn?”
I nod, surprised. I didn’t know he’d noticed the emptiness. No one usually does. He takes the empty bottle and disappears. Billy, Viggo and Elijah stare after him with odd looks on their faces. Then they turn to me.
“How long are you going to be in LA?” Viggo asks his voice slow and soft.
I shrug.
“Are you moving here?” Billy asks.
I shrug once again.
“Do you like chicken?” Elijah asks.
I look at him surprised, “Chicken?”

you meant Lijah instead of Dom right? bc Dom wasn't there yet... i think...

Dom's a sweety, i can tell already ;-)

what's with the chicken eh? :huh:

Hiya!!!
Great chapters!

Hmmm.....interesting, very interesting....i would love to read more about this....

mmmmm....potato salad...so good!! The chicken comment was funny!! hehe

Good, great, grand! More More!

Julie

[FON :yes: T=Courier][SIZE=7][COLOR=purple]

I am really enjoying your story. I love stories featuring Dom and Lij. Please post more soon. Work, food, and sleep are over-rated.

Crap.
Crap
Crap.

I really should start reading my stuff before I post it, shouldn't I?

I did not notice that before. i rewrote that part twice and I must have missed it.
Thank you for pointing it out.

That was great!!
I would hate ebing people I don't know....
I just HATE it!!!
Anywho.............
That was great!!!!!!!
^_^

:teddy: `~*~`Lessy`~*~`

There

I fixed it.

:)

I love the chicken comment. It's just so out of the blue.
I personally hate chicken. I can't stand the stuff.



I'm glad you guys like this story.
I'll be posting more soon.

:angel2: I likie chicken!! **LOL** Those chapters where GREAT! (sorry hyperness taking over me....) Anywho post more soon!!!

The only thing i eat is chicken, really it's the only thing i can cook fast and eat....though i am getting kinda sick of it..

np, glad i could help ^_^

hey! i LIKE chicken. but i hate cow...and pig... and pretty much anything but chicken.... :huh: i'm odd; i know lol

^_^ **hehe** it's ok **pats her on the head**

(Slip Up)

We’re all in the backyard, around the pool. I’ve had five beers and three pieces of chicken. Viggo helped Elijah make a very tasty batch of barbecue chicken. Elijah ate most of the potato salad; I had to fight for some of it. Misty has taken Abby home for the night. Christine and Sean took Alexandra and their other daughter, Elizabeth home earlier.
Now we’re sitting in lawn chairs drinking beer while watching Dom and Billy light off fire works. It’s rather funny. Dom keeps throwing fire crackers into Elijah’s pool. Elijah’s complaining about how hard it will be to clean up the mess.
I laugh- yes actually laugh- when Billy accidentally throws a batch of fire crackers near Dom’s feet. Dom doesn’t get hurt, but he does get quite a scare when they start going off underneath him. As revenge Dom starts using Billy’s beer bottle to launch bottle rockets.
It’s about one in the morning when I stand and stretch. I forget about the shirt I’m wearing and Dom sees the bruise on my stomach. He stares at me for a moment before opening his mouth to comment.
“I’ll see you guys later, sometime,” I say cutting him off before he can say anything and leaving.
Misty left the font door unlocked for me. After locking it carefully behind me I make my way silently to my bed room. I change into a pair of new pajamas and lay down in the bed I’m supposed to call mine.
I stare at the ceiling before drifting into a deep, dark sleep of nightmares.

In my nightmares I’m with Misty and Abby at the zoo. We’re looking at the tigers. Mike suddenly appears, he’s holding Abby. I try to get him to give me Abby, but he won’t. He won’t let her go. Misty doesn’t care; she is too interested in the tiger. I try to pull Abby from his arms but he pushes my away, I fall into the tiger cage and the two tigers circle me.

“Marilyn!” A voice penetrates my sleep, shaking me from the nightmare.
“What? Huh?” I ask.
I sit up and look around. Misty is sitting on the edge of my bed, looking down at me, “Are you alright?”
“Uh huh,” I nod.
“You were calling for Abby,” she says.
“Oh?” I ask looking over at my alarm clock.
It’s only four in the morning. I woke my sister up at four am, over a nightmare.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly.
“It’s alright. Go back to sleep,” she says leaving me alone again.
I lie back down and turn on my side. Sleep avoids me for the rest of the night. I sit in bed staring out the window at lights from other houses and the street lamps. It doesn’t really get dark here. There are too many lights.
When it’s about seven am I get up. I shower and pull on another pair of the jeans Misty forced me to get and a long sleeveless turtleneck. I venture downstairs to the kitchen there’s a note from Misty.
Abby is at school, Misty is at work. I should take the trash out and make myself at home. She’ll be home to bring home Abby and then she’ll have to go back to work.
I get the garbage and take it out to the cans in the garage, I drag them down the driveway to the sidewalk and set them out, making sure the lids are one nice and tight.
“Hey, Marilyn!” Dom is crossing the lawns quickly, trying to reach me before I retreat into the house.
“Uh, hi Dom,” I mumbles, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.
“Umm, I kind of wanted to ask you a question,” he says, a little nervous.
I don’t say anything. I don’t want him to ask about the bruise. I don’t want him to know. He’ll think I’m weak and useless.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” he asks.
I’m confused now. I thought he was going to ask about the bruise. Wait, he just asked me out, right?
I shake my head slowly, unsure if he’s really asking me out, or just asking for a survey.
“Would you like to get some breakfast?” he asks.
Well, wouldn’t everyone like breakfast? Breakfast is a very important meal.
“With me?” he asks.
I just stare. He probably thinks I’m insane. I should say something. I should tell him I’ve got plans. That I need to do... something… anything.
“Sure,” I hear myself saying.
His whole face lights up, “Great, come on.”
“I need to lock the house first,” I say quickly.
He nods, “I’ll wait for you.”
I nods nervously and run into the house. I grab my messenger bag from the closet in the hall and scribble a quick note to Misty. Just in case. I meet Dom back out on the lawn, he’s waiting, just like he said.
We get in his car and drive off. I’m nervous as hell. I begin to wonder if after Mike I’ll ever be able to relax around men again. Or am I royally fucked out of a normal relationship?
“So, what do you want to listen to?” he asks.
I shrug and stare at the road in front of us. He turns on the radio and some random news show is on.
We listen to the radio announcer talk about local events and world wide events. He moves onto weather when Dom turns it off.
“You don’t like me, do you?” he asks as we pull into a restaurant on the beach.
“What?” I ask looking over at him.
“You don’t talk to me; you don’t even act like you know I exist. Do you hate me or something?” he asks.
“I don’t talk to anyone,” I say softly.
“Why not? You’ve got a very pretty voice,” he says.
I chew the inside of my bottom lip and look at the dashboard. I wonder if it would hurt to tell him anything. Would he get mad?
“I’d really like it if you talked to me,” he says.
I look at him carefully, not sure if I want to say anything.
“I’m not very talkative,” I say.
He frowns, “Will you at least tell me about Boston?”
Why the hell would he want to know about Boston?
“No. I can’t. I really don’t want to talk about Boston or Mike or anything that has to do with the last three years,” I say hurriedly.
He stares at me, his blue-green eyes searching for a clue as to what I’m talking about. He finds nothing. My face is a blank wall. Nothing betrays my secrets.
“Then tell me about before then,” he says.
I just stare. This guy has got to be insane. Why does he want to know about me?
“You’re insane, aren’t you?” I ask before thinking about the words.
He laughs and leans back in his seat, “Let’s go eat, shall we?”
Moments later we’re in the returaunt ordering drinks and scanning the menu for the ideal breakfast. I’m having a hard time grasping the reality of this. The last time I went out to eat was two years ago with Mike.
That sounds so lame, but it’s true.
Mike ruled my life. And without him here to dictate me I feel a little lost. I feel like a balloon that some kid let go. I’m drifting through the air, with now destination and no purpose.
I watch as Dom’s blue-green eyes scan the menu. Maybe I can relax a little bit.

mmmm we WUV Dommy :wub:

:laugh:

great chappy

is so cute how Dommie...can make everyone relax...
he's so cute!!
^_^

Yes she can definately relax for now...until Mike make an unexpected and unwanter visit, that is if he comes....He better stay home in Boston!!
Great chapter! Dom in awesome!

Julie

(Trust Issue)



“What’s your favorite color?’ he asks as we sit together drinking coffee.
“Yellow,” I answer, “Not bright yellow, soft yellow. It reminds me of a baby chick.”
He nods thoughtfully, “Makes sense. Baby chicks are…”
“Cute, fuzzy, and noisy,” I supply.
He cocks his head to the side, which reminds me of a puppy. I like puppies. Especially beagles.
“My grandparents own a farm in Northern California. Misty and I used to spend Easter and Christmas up there,” I explain.
He nods, “That sounds nice.”
“Yeah. Our Mom and Dad used to drive us up there every year. It was like a tradition. We would play all these silly little road trip games and then when we got there Grams would give us a little bag of candy and let us go play in the barn,” I say, wistfully.
He watches me closely as I continue, “Then when Dad died we kind of stopped going. Mom didn’t want to drive there with out him.”
He nods slowly. I chew my lip and take another drink of coffee, “after Dad died Misty kind of raised me, I guess. When she got her drivers license we started taking trips back up there. Grams still welcomed us with candy too.”
“You like farms?” he asks.
“Love them. Especially if there are a lot of animals. I really miss Grams and Gramps farm. I haven’t visited because Mike didn’t let me,” I say before realizing it.
The expression on Dom’s face is one of concern and confusion, “Mike?”
I shrug and our waitress delivers our breakfast. I send a silent thanks to the waitress and vow to never be mean to waitresses again.
“So, what about you?” I ask, cutting a pancake with my fork.
“What about me?” He asks taking a large bite out of his eggs.
“Do you have a story for me?” I ask
“Uh… once I… never mind,” he says pausing in mid thought.
“Not fair, I told you something about me. It’s your turn to tell me something about you,” I say pointing at him with my syrup covered fork.
He smiles, “For someone that doesn’t like to talk, you are bossy.”
“I get it from my sister,” I respond stabbing a bit of pancake with my fork.
He laughs, “I was born in Germany, and then I moved to England.”
“What part of Germany?” I ask, chewing my pancake slowly.
“Berlin,” he answers.
I nod, “So, you aren’t American?”
He raises an eyebrow and looks at me, “No, why?”
Man that was such a bad thing to say. Why do I say things like that? Am I just an idiot?
“You sound like you are. I don’t know,” I shrug and look down at my pancake.
I’m kind of edgy and bouncy right now. I’ve got all this pent up energy that wants out. Maybe it’s the syrup.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
I look up at him, his eyes are concerned. I’m not sure why.
“Uh huh,” I nod.
“You seem a little uhhh…” he stops talking, loosing his thought.
“I’m fine,” I say.
My leg is bouncing from all this energy I’ve somehow come a crossed. We finish our meal with an endless amount of stupid small talk that I’ll never remember. Then we leave and get back in his car.
“Do you want to just go home?” he asks.
“Umm, what time is it?” I ask looking at the clock in his dash, “Damn ten already?”
“Umm, yeah,” he says looking at the clock.
“I guess you can just take me back to Misty’s,” I say dropping my head back onto the seat.
“You sure?” he asks as we start driving.
“Yeah sure. I’ve got things to sort out,” I nod.
“This was fun,” he says minutes later.
I look over at him and shrug.
“Great, so now you’re going to stop talking again?” he asks.
I shrug and look at the road. I’m not sure if I can actually talk to this guy or not. He’s an actor for Christ’s sake! What if he turns out to be just like Mike? What if he turns out worse?
What if despite everything he turns out to be a really great guy, but I’m to chicken shit to give him a chance?
What if I do give him a chance and then Mike pops up?
“Look, Marilyn, I’m not sure what you’ve been through, but I would really appreciate it if you gave me a chance,” he says as the pull up to Misty’s house.
I smile softly and open the door, “I’ve got a lot of issues to sort out, Dom. But I really did have fun.”
I get out and retreat to the safety of Misty’s perfectly neat house. I need to think.

I'm glad you guys like it!

I'm going to be gone all weekend on a Murder Mystery trip with some friends so I'll post another chapter.

(Sisterly Advice)



Misty drops Abby off at around three. I help her with her first grade school work and we play tea party. It’s kind of weird forcing my self to be happy. I feel like a liar. Which I am.
I make toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apple slices for dinner. I feel relieved not to worry about getting the hell beat out of me because it’s such a simple meal. Abby is thrilled to eat toasted peanut butter and jelly. She’s never had it before.
Misty comes home around seven, she’s exhausted. Immediately she tells me about her day. I listen patiently as I prepare her some canned soup. I feel as though I belong here with them. It’s quite wonderful actually.
“So, how was your day?” she asks as I present her with her soup.
“It was nice. Dom took me out to breakfast, I watched TV and read the newspaper, then I played with Abby,” I answer, sitting next to her.
She’s giving me an odd look, “You went out with Dom?”
“We had breakfast, and it wasn’t technically a date,” I say, looking at my hands.
My nails are ragged and bitten down to far. The skin around my nails is even worse. I’ve been chewing on them a lot lately.
“It counts. He took you somewhere nice; I’m thinking it was probably near the beach. You talked to him- you didn’t give him the silent treatment did you- and the two of you shared a meal,” she says.
“No, I didn’t give him the silent treatment. But I was extremely uncomfortable, and nervous, and I think he knows about Mike,” I say softly, dropping my head into my hands.
“What does it matter if he knows about Mike?” she asks.
“What if he thinks I’m stupid or weak? Or even worse- what if he turns out to be like Mike?” I ask, my worries finally out in the open.
I can feel her smiling at me with that amused smile she has. It drives me nuts when she uses that smile. It’s like she knows everything.
“Marilyn, honey, chill. Dom is a really nice guy. I’ve known him for a while now, and even though I figured Elijah would have been interested in you more than Dom- I still think it’s great that you like him,” she says in her soothing mother-like voice.
My head shoots up at these words, “I never said I liked him!”
She laughs, “You never had to! I can just tell.”
“What? No you can’t, you’re just trying to get me to admit that I do,” I say, “Which I don’t!”
“Yes you do,” she says.
“No,” I answer.
“Honey, I know you better than you know yourself! I practically raised you!” she says.
“That doesn’t mean you know what you’re talking about,” I protest.
“You’re scared to get into a relationship with Dom because of what Mike did to you. You want to, but you don’t think you can. You’re afraid that if you give him a chance it’ll backfire. But if you don’t he’ll be perfect for you, and he’ll get away,” she says her pale blue eyes narrowed.
I bite my bottom lip, am I really that readable? Am I that transparent?
Damn.
“You know nothing,” I lie.
“Liar,” she accuses.
“What? How do you know?” I ask.
“You always bite your lip when I’m right, or when you’re lying,” she explains, taking a large spoonful of soup.
“I am not lying!” I protest, and then I realize I’ve been biting my lip this whole time.
“Oh? Well if you ask me, you are very interested in him,” she says, “And you’re too scared to see if it could work.”
I glare at her, “I didn’t ask you, so there.”
“But you do believe me, that’s what counts,” she says wisely.
“You suck, ya know that?” I ask.
“But you love me,” she answers with a smile.
“Bite me,” I moan dropping my head back down.
“Fine,” she says biting my elbow.
“Ow!” I cry sitting back up, “I was being sarcastic!”
“Sorry,” she shrugs.
I glare, unsure of what to do or say. Being uncomfortable seems to be very common in my life.
She smiles, “Honey, as much as you’d hate to do it, give Dom a chance. He’s a great guy.”
I sigh, “What if I don’t?”
“You’re the one that looses, not me,” she says.

TWO chapters!!! :shine: I feel so loved! YOU are so loved!! :love: ...lol and i... am a freak :yes:

:lmao: hahahaha...

:wub: I think our wonderful Dommy should drag her off to a farm and MAKE her have fun! :shine: but ur the writer, not me :laugh:

have fun on ur trip!! (i SWEAR, it was Professor Plum in the kitchen with a candle stick... what? not THAT kind of murder mystery? darn lol ;-) )