My name is Belle and I have lived a pretty boring life up into recently. My father still calls me Silver Belle, he loved that stupid Christmas song as a kid, and named me after the song when I was born on December 24th, Christmas Eve. I love my father but the guy has to get a life.
My life has been so boring partly because I was raised to live a boring life, but mostly because I went a long with living the life styles of bored and helpless. My parents believed in a discipline and education. I've been getting straight As for as long as I can remember, I've been polite to the rudest people on earth, and I haven't experienced anything. I was an eighteen year old virgin living in the same pink painted room, with the same lame Barbie dolls, with the same pink carpet and no hope of ever escaping.
On May 15th I noticed my senior year in high school was absolutely flying by. Daddy's Silver Belle was on the honor roll, Student Council president and head cheerleader. I hated all of it, but my life was dedicated to my parents. I felt trapped and worst of all, I didn't know who I was. I desperately needed a change from all the things that were the same. So on that day in May, I took small steps to a change. Instead of three meals, I ate four. Instead of doing all my homework, I did most of it. When it came right down to it, I was taking the smallest damn steps a person could take and I was frightened by every moment of it. I was pathetic.
The nest day I decided I was going to do the best worst thing I could come up with. I asked my good friend Meagon, she's my best friend, ten times smarter then me, just as pretty and a total slut, if I could have a cigarette.
"For what?" she laughed at me. "You don't even know how to smoke."
"So," I said. I wanted to tell her the truth. "I want to make a change. I'm bored with this life."
"So you've decided to commit suicide by use of cigarettes." She smiled at me. "Welcome to society little one." She quickly passed the cigarette to me.
"Now what?" I asked a little confused.
She laughed again. "Eat it. What do you think?"
"I need a liter." She gave me a liter and began to walk away. She turned around five feet away from me.
"I started smoking when I was ten. When it was still dangerous, illegal to a mere kid. There was a rebellion in my smoking. What away to rebel, Belle. Belle the Rebel, smoking at the legal age of eighteen."
With that she was gone. The halls were flustering with activity this morning and I felt out of place with a cigarette and a liter in my hand, so I shoved both in my pocket and headed to class. Half way there I decided to live real dangerous. And I don't mean a fifth meal kind of dangerous either. I was going to cut class. For the first time in thirteen years I was going to miss a class. God I was pathetic.
I lit the cigarette in the bathroom, and puffed for the first time. Never had I experienced an event so tragic. I coughed for a full minute and tossed the cigarette in the toilet. I was in the process of the flushing the toilet when I heard the familiar voice of Mr. Smith from behind me.
"What exactly are you doing, young lady?"
I turned around to greet the principal. I came to two conclusions staring into the black principal's dark eyes. One was smart people were not made to rebel. And two, Mr. Smith was pissed off. So I did accomplish something. I just wasn't ready for any kind of punishment.
"Smoking, you," he said back at his office. He was six foot three and physically imposing. "What the hell happened. You normally one of our best. You never get in any trouble."
"That's the problem," I admitted in the midst of tears. "I'm perfect. Nobody ever thinks anything rotten about me."
"Nobody's perfect young lady. And right now I'm thinking some pretty rotten things about you. Do you know smoking in the bathroom is a one week suspension."
I shook my head.
"Of course not. Your record is clear. And it will remain so. I'm giving you a second chance and you will only miss one day of school to think about your new rebellious lifestyle. But I am calling your father."
I gulped real loud. I was scared and happy all at the same time. I couldn't believe my luck. It had always been there for me, to drive me lower. I did not even get in any trouble. I would hear it from my father, but still, that was nothing. Walking home later that day, I knew I had to do something. Belle the Rebel would strike harder and get in some real trouble. Whether it scared the life out of me or not.
I got a three hour lecture about how cigarettes could kill me when my father came home. He told me about every chemical and every stat there was to know about. He got all of his information off the Internet and read to me off the papers he printed. He lied them on the bed next to me when he was done and told me to read through them if I didn't believe him.
"Don't think you're sitting in the house all day tomorrow either," he told me. "I got you a baby- sitting job. You're watching the Abbott baby in the morning, so get plenty of rest."
Being the sport my father raised me to be, I did not object to a single word he said. I was going to listen to him, and do something real naughty behind his back. Revenge was a dish best served when your father didn't no about it, at least that was the way I felt.
I got up at six in the morning without the help of the alarm clock or my father nerve bending, angry in the morning voice. I took a shower and stared at myself in the mirror. Closely examining my nice firm breasts and my perfect tanned skin. My eyes were baby blue and gorgeous and my teeth were naturally white. My hair was blonde and hung down to my bony ass. I gently caressed my naked body with my hands, letting roam down to my vagina and my ass. I felt disgusted touching my blonde pubic hairs. They felt nasty to me. So I did the first unthinkable of May 17th. I shaved my pussy. And I was thinking nasty.
At the Abbott household I waited and watched Mr. and Mrs. Abbott fumble into each other repeatedly as they made their ways off to work. My freshly shaved vagina felt good underneath my tight black jeans and silk panties. I felt like a new woman. That's when I first realized I was a woman. Let freedom ring. Belle the Rebel. A girl I was no longer. Quoth the Rebel, "Nevermore!"
I watched the Abbott smelly little one year old, Jimmy for eight long hours. I changed his diaper, gave him milk, fed the little bastard, then he had the nerve to spit the Fruity Pebbles all over my shirt. I never wanted kids. Yuck. At one in the afternoon I put him to sleep. I couldn't believe I had watched every PBS kid show there was to watch. If God was punishing me for smoking, then he had my full attention. Smoking I will easily give up, just as long as I never have to watch that stupid yellow bird and that damn animated aardvark ever again. Bless you Lord.
At two Mr. Abbott came home. This surprised me because he wasn't due back until six. If he was home early I lose out on four hours of pay.
"Watchya doin home so early?" I asked cautiously.
"Go out earlier than I thought," he said. He looked a little under the weather. Nervous, even.
"Baby's sleeping."
"Good. Well, here's your money. I'll pay you for the last four hours too. It's all there. One hundred smackers." He laughed at himself. He was talking fast. No, he was talking while staring at me. He was looking at my breasts. I was a little flattered. I was little embarassed.
"Thank you mista Abbott," I said. I turned away from him and walked in the kitchen. I went to the sink for a glass of water. I watched from the corner of my eye to see if he was checking out my ass. He was.
