

Life on the Back Roads
Dawn Marie · Ongoing · 37.3k Words
Introduction
Chapter 1
How can life be like this? I feel like I have asked myself this question over and over. I have never seemed to be able to catch a break. There is always a wrong turn or a dead end and I just absolutely "love" those. Because why else am I always finding them? I seem to always be the receiver of bad things. I see my friends as the ones who are bad, they break all the rules and yet they have everything handed to them. I tried to be carefree once... I felt so guilty and dirty afterwards. I try not to think about it anymore. But every now and then it creeps back in, and I wonder if they too think about me. I wonder if I am the reason all these bad things keep happening to me. What if I tempted them? What if I really am an awful person, daughter, friend... Self-doubt creeps in every day anymore. I try to stay happy, smiling. I try to keep myself busy with pointless hobbies. But it never seems to be enough. Those that say they do really care about me; I seem to snap and get angry with them the most. Because why do I deserve their love and admiration. Online appraisal even seems to be unworthy of me. It is so bad I have even restricted my birthday, ha-ha. Because why do I deserve a Happy Birthday?! Especially from all these fake people, strangers who don't even know me. Because if they did, if they knew everything that I have done... They would not want me; they would not want to be associated with me. I try at times to push it back on other people for the way that I am. It all started when I was very young. Too young to know better. Or at least that is what I tell myself. I cannot remember much before third grade... But enough about the self-pitting.. On to my past.
I was born in the 90s, so I was raised up before cell phones and the internet was a big thing. It was rare to be able to use the internet at the library at school. Where we lived it was too far in the country for internet to come. Even still the internet we did use was dial up.
When I say I do not remember much before the third grade. I mean that. I remember only bits and pieces of that as well. Like my first “boyfriend”, he lasted a total of 24 hours.. if even that. I remember that like it was yesterday. I had the biggest crush on this boy. He was shorter than me, which what can you expect being in third grade. Seth was his name. He had Blonde hair, blue eyes and surprisingly for such a young age he had a small muscular build to him that he loved to show off. He was dating a new girl named, Jennifer. Jennifer was your run of the mill pretty girl. The only difference was she had a rough home life. So she was always getting in trouble and daring to be different. I on the other hand only made a difference in the adult genre chapter books I would read during class. Jennifer and Seth dated all year. Then finally one day they broke up. I jumped on the chance for him to date me. Dating back then was just silly looks and pictures drawn back and forth. He told me yes! The next day as I walked into class, I was late because of a Dentist appointment. I seen Jennifer standing on a chair with the shortest of shorts. And Seth was behind her staring right at her rear end acting like he was helping her so she would not fall down. Once he turned and saw me all I received was a small shoulder shrug and a gesture to her behind! I was heart broken! Well as much as I could be for a less than 24 hour boyfriend. After that My genre became more spicy. My mom had a library in one of the rooms in the house full to the brim of books so she never knew which ones I would take and read. Now, when I say library, we lived in a double wide trailer with four bedrooms. The library had your dollar store book shelves that were double stacked and over flowing through out the room.
I would sneak the book up while the rest of the class was reading their literature and read it within my book so the teacher could not see it. One day she caught me! I was sent to the principals office and my mom was called. She was mad at first, but after she brought me home she started questioning me on what about the book that I liked. It was weird, is all that I could think of. I skimmed past the raunchy scenes usually and just read about the love part and the trial and tribulations the couples in the story would have. She did not buy it and she went and pulled one of her favorites off her personal shelve. After a few minutes she handed me the open book and I had to read out loud one of the paragraphs.
“ Then tell me to drop to my knees. Tell me to push your skirt up to your hips. Tell me to rip your tights off your legs and your pull your underwear until it is so tight on your pussy it tears. Tell me to worship your wet stinging pussy with my mouth”
I could not continue. My mother just stared at me with a glaze in her eyes. After a moment she asked if I could feel that. If that was why I like those books. I could not answer her. All I could do was run to my room and cry.
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