(( Lolita roleplay, whoever wants to roleplay do so. No one liners and you must be very literate.)) Michelle bounces a ball against the side of her house, using her knee and her ankle alternatively. Across the street, a group of boys stop to watch her. They try to be subtle, but she knows theyre watching the movement of her pink thigh as it bounces up and down independent of her skirt. She thinks hes so much smarter than them. She rolls her eyes and grabs the ball out of the air, depriving them of the spectacle. A wry grin spreads across her face as she imagines what his reaction would be. Hes awfully stupid sometimes. Jealous, too. Thoughtfully stroking the ball, she sees the boys leave. They couldnt be more than twelve or thirteen, her age, really. She can imagine him seeing them and telling them to leave, upset by their staring. Hed have the same expression on his face as he does when talking to her teachers. (Once, he told her that there was no need for her to feel intimidated by inferior minds.) A stern, fatherly expression of irritation and authority. Hes a real grownup. He knows how to make people listen to him and pay attention. She cradles the ball in her arms. Unbidden, her thoughts fly to last night. (He clutched her knees and begged her to let him touch her. She was trying to study, but he offered her a dollar.) Hes like a whiny little kid. She abruptly drops the ball and begins to dribble it, trying on each hit to smack it harder and harder against the pavement. With each bounce, the pressure on her hand when the ball hits it increases. (Once she asked him if he wanted to be a real dad. He said maybe one day, but not yet. Then he kissed her.) Thatd be a great movie: Kids Itd be all about those silly moments when he begs, and his wife wouldnt let him touch her if he didnt buy her lots of clothes and candy. She starts to throw it against the wall. (Last week, he wouldnt let her go to a movie with her friends, no matter how much she begged and yelled and threatened.) She wishes it to be his stupid face shes hitting. Hes so lame! All the other kids dads let them go to movies. She runs out of steam and lets the ball bounce on its own for a while. It manages to get as high as her head once before it starts to lose energy. Soon its just dribbling on the ground. She bends down to pick it up, but quickly stands when she hears sniggering. She turns and sees that the boys are back. Theyre smiling at her and laughing. One of them has his hand in his pocket and is moving around. She bursts into tears. Shes not even sure why shes crying as she runs up and throws the ball at their ugly faces. She aims for the boy with his hand in his pocket, but it goes wide and hits one of the others. Get lost, ya bastards! she yells. Still laughing, they run off to pick on someone else. She wipes her eyes with her grubby hand and goes to get the ball. Its rolled into some weeds in the playground. She ducks under the half-finished fence and grabs the ball as quickly as she can. She tucks in under her arm and crosses the street, forgetting until shes halfway across that shes supposed to look for cars. Shes not crying as she walks back to the house, but her face is red and puffy. Its stupid, really. She shouldnt be crying. They were just some dumb kids. She decides to go in and blow her nose. He hates her. He thinks Shes like them so he hates her and tells her to do things I dont want to do and to stay home from movies and dances. She finds a place in the garage to put the ball where no one will trip over it, then heads in through the back door. The plan of washing her face forgotten, she makes a beeline for the fridge, wherein she finds some cheap lemonade. She doesnt bother to pour herself a glass, preferring to drink straight from the carton. (He only buys it for her, anyway.) Remembering her mission, she goes to wash her face. She considers going outside again, but its starting to get late and she has a new magazine to read. Casually flicking a lamp on in the living room, she sinks into the couch and opens the rag, losing herself in the glossy pictures of models as the sun sets. It occurs to her that hell be due home any minute. As if on cue, she hears his car pulling into the gravel driveway. She puts the magazine down with an exaggerated sigh and goes to meet him. She smiles a little as he opens the door. He loves her.
Posted on: Mon, 28 Jul 2014 16:39:18 +0000
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