This is my first story on Literotica, it's slow to start, but I'm a writer by trade, so I ask that you give it some time to build. There isn't any detailed sex in this first chapter, but instead sets it up, so if you're looking for a story that's quick to get to the punch, this probably isn't going to be your speed. To anyone else, I hope you enjoy.
*Everyone in this story is fictional, at least the age of 18, and the actions that have been committed and will happen are all consensual*
***
My momma liked to flirt with death. Growing up, people always said that I was smarter than she was, and I wasn't going to make the same mistakes she did. It used to make me feel really proud; I was smarter than an adult. But as I grew older, I came to realize that the mistake they were talking about was me and I didn't feel as proud anymore. There are no words to describe the feeling in your gut when a police officer knocks on your door. It wasn't the first time that had happened, but the men in the blue uniforms weren't there to arrest anybody; they were there to steal away my soul. My mom had been standing on the tracks when the train started to yell. She closed her eyes for a second too long and just like that she was gone. They told me that she hadn't felt any pain when she died. I think that was to make me feel better, but all it did was take all of her pain and put it on me. At least that's what it felt like.
My dad was around. He didn't do much before mom's "accident" as the locals called it, but he straightened up pretty quick afterwards. Which was a surprise to say the least. I still had to cook and clean around the house, and he always came home smelling like the inside of a diesel truck, but despite his dirty fingernails, he worked hard. It was just me and him. We developed a routine, and I grew to appreciate a little bit of normalcy in my life. We were still the talk of the town, but at least we had each other, and that wasn't going to change. So I thought.
As any great fairy tale begins, there is a dead mom, a loving, yet distant father, and a wayward daughter. Introduce an evil stepmother and a couple of stepsisters and you've got yourself a recipe fit for Cinderella. The evil stepmother part was right, but I got a boy instead of a couple of vapid sisters. Her name was Jennifer, and her son Seth worked at the shop with my dad. That's how they met. Jennifer came by to pick up her '93 Cadillac, a hunk of metal that was as old as I was. "I saw right then," my dad recounts his love at first sight, "her denim skirt and that gum she kept poppin'. Her sunglasses were bigger than her face, but I knew she was a beauty. I knew it. She was my gal." Listening to him recount his declaration of love was enough to make me want to puke. The twist of a knife can do that to you. It was no secret that I was an accident, and my parents' marriage was out of necessity rather than love, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.
Seth wasn't around much. He was either working at the shop or staying at his dad's place; his own conception being similar to my own, except he still had the two halves that made him whole. He and I shared the same distaste for his mother, so I can't exactly blame him for avoiding her. I would have, too, given the chance. But I didn't. So instead of retreating into the confines of my bedroom or trying to find a job at the shop (no thank you), I decided to start taking field trips. They started off small and during the day; dad and Jennifer were never home so it wasn't like I was "sneaking out." I wandered to the brook behind the house; started drawing some of the scenery. I wasn't very good, but it gave me something to do. After a while, I started getting more bold, and when the music on my iPod couldn't drown out the grunts downstairs, sneaking out became a reality.
Nighttime has a funny way of doing things to people. It brings out a side of them that they don't usually share. The darkness shields them and they can hide what the sunshine shows. I was feeling brave. I walked for God knows how long. My feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and I followed them blindly. It didn't matter where we went, so long as I didn't have to keep hearing the constant "YES"es that came out of dad's room and Jennifer's mouth. I walked and walked until the silhouette of a rusted train cart came into view. My blood ran cold. Never had I been in the location of my mother's death; a ton of the kids from school had. They swore you could still her blood on the railing, but these were the same people who used to rub erasers on their skin and call it a game. Everything they said should be taken with a grain of salt, but it was no secret that I avoided the place. I didn't believe in ghosts, but I didn't want to take any chances either.
The wind whistled through the empty railcar, bringing my attention to all of the awful possibilities that could be lurking within. Instead I heard another "YES" and before I could cover my mouth, my eyes rolled on their own accord, followed with an, "Are you fucking kidding me?" Oops. While it still could have been a bear or a sex offender, the declaration to continue from inside didn't unnerve me as much as annoy me.
"Shit." The word echoed through the car. Though it was dark outside, I could make out a white t-shirt being pulled on.
"What the fuc—" The shirt was on, the head was out, and my dear old stepbrother Seth was looking right at me. "Lorelei?!"
"In the flesh."
"What the fuck are you doing out here?"
"I could ask you the same question, but I guess 'who' would be more appropriate than 'what'?" Right on cue, a blonde head popped out from behind Seth.
"Staci! How completely unsurprising to see you."
"Oh shut up. You're the one visiting the place where your mother offed herself. Seriously how fucked up is that?"
Her retort was unexpected and cruel. I could feel the tears pricking my eyes and my throat clench in that uncomfortable moment when you're trying not to cry. "It wasn't like that. Fuck you." My voice cracked. She heard.
"Are you crying? Come on. You're pathetic."
With one last flip of the bird, I turned my heels and headed back the way I came. Never again would I be sneaking out, even if that meant listening to Jennifer. Awesome. As my feet crunched on the gravel, I heard the muffled sounds of voices coming from the car.
"Jesus Staci did you have to act like such a bitch? She's my fucking stepsister."
"It's not my fault that her mom killed herself, okay. Like what was she even doing out here? That's fucking weird, Seth, and you know it."
"You know what, fuck you Staci. Find your own way home." With that, I heard two things: the thud of feet landing and the squeal of a now-terrified Staci.
"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS SETH. YOU BROUGHT ME HERE!"
"Fuck off!" he yelled, followed by the hasted crunch of jogging feet. "Lorelei, wait!" I didn't stop, but slowed my pace. This had been the lengthiest interaction I'd ever had with Seth, officially making it the weirdest night of my life.
"Lorelei, wait. I'm sorry."
I stopped then. I looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. Well as best as the moonlight would allow. Tall and lean, he had tanned skin and freckles on his nose. He had strong features and blue eyes, despite his dark brown hair. His white shirt was clean, but his denim jeans were dirty, which was to be expected, working in the shop and all. I decided that he was handsome, but I was also very annoyed and I didn't have time to waste on him.
"Did it really surprise you that she acted that way? Staci's never been known to be the nicest thing."
"She's awfully nice to me."
"OH COME ON SETH! That's gross. You know that's not what I meant."
All he did was laugh, causing me to scoff and roll my eyes. "Whatever man. You can go back to... whatever you were doing."
"You know what we were doing." He grinned one of those lopsided smiles. Jesus could you stop being so cute for one fucking second, I'm trying to stay upset with you.
"Ugh whatever. YES I knew what you were doing. Sucks for me right? Since the whole reason I'm even out here is so I could get away from your mom yelling the same thing as Staci."
