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Name: Gabe
Country: United States
State: Arizona
Birthday: 7/19/1985
Gender: Male
Interests: Writing
Expertise: Watching the clock spin around as time passes by.
Occupation: Unemployed/Between Jobs
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/24/2002
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| Chapter 2 - The Secret Book of Our Lives: By Mr. and Mrs. Glen Walder
Section 1 - Mrs. Walders Short Biography
Section 2 - The Promise
Section 3 - Plans with Mr. Walder
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Section 4 - Mr. Walders Confessions
Section 5 - A Haunting Past
Section 6 - The great, the powerful, the man . . .
ABOUT THE BOOK-
Hello future child. This book is intended for
you to read if anything happens to us before you have gotten to know
your parents. Whatever you will become, we just want you to know
that we are always proud of you in what you do, and also that we love
you.
Your Father and I will write various things about
ourselves. We promised not to read each other's section for
safety in keeping an honest life for you. If you do get to read
this, I hope you think well of us.
-Dedicated to our future daughter .........
Section 1 -
Hi, this is your mother writing. I will tell
you all about the wonderful details about me and my life as you read
on. I might not be as "cool" or "hip" as your friend's mothers,
but I will try to be the best mother to satisfy your needs. So sit
back, and enjoy our love.
What can I say? Let me start off with how I
look. My hair is a very dark brownish color with very light brown
highlights. I'm glad to say that my hair does go beyond my neck
when it's curly and when it's straight, it may touch my chest
area. I have green eyes, medium sized lips, and a pointy nose,
which I'm really upset about. Hopefully your nose will not look
as bad as mine. hee hee. I wear B-cup bra's. My height is
measured at 5 feet 6 inches and my shoe size is 8.
Sorry to sound like a girl who's trying to meet a
man on one of those internet chat thingies, however that is how I
look. Your father would tell me I'm drop dead gorgeous, but I
will settle for a pretty woman. Well then onto more about me.
I'm right now in my second year of law school.
Yes that's right, your mommy is going to become a lawyer. What
reasons you may ask? It's not only for the money, but because of
all the injustice that went on with my past. My dear when I was
17, my father was arrested for a crime he did not commit. My
mother knew that my father worked for bad people. She never
expected them to betray his trust. As time grew on, his
co-workers killed an important man, a very very important man.
The man murdered was the police chief of our small town
My father had nothing to do with the killing, let
alone had knew the blue prints of the heist. Let's just say he
was in the wrong place at the wrong time. When the trial was
broadcasted, I felt sorry for my father. He only joined this
group for money to support his family, not knowing they would go
through an illegal run. The verdict, guilty. No evidence
could prove he either had nothing to do with it, or was just plain
innocent. The men who really killed the police chief had placed
everything properly to secure his fate.
There were some holes in the case, the lawyer wasn't
dumb, just lazy. And now here I am, studying ot become a lawyer
to fill in those holes and protect the innocent. May'be you'll
follow me one day? =)
Since the age of 19, I was fatherless. It was
a very bad time for me not to have a father around the house. My
brother had to step up to be the man of the house, however he and my
mother did not get along. My brother at the age of 23 at the time
moved out and now lives somewhere in the midwestern states.
My mother would be sitting at home weeping.
She misses her love and was stressed about making enough money.
This is where feelings had gone wrong with my mother. She only
made $15 an hour at her job. We were forced to sell the house my
father bought and move into low housing projects. Her paychecks
would barely get us by. It's great you know, paying off the bills
and what not. When you look into the fridge after paying the
bills, you will not see anything there but two gallons of water and
various fruits to last you until the next paycheck arrives.
| | |
| Now What ???
The joy of a killing has mounted a smile on my
face. The so called tragic event happened approxametly five years
ago. How in the world could someone have gotten away with
murder? Luckily I had a mother who had reputations to protect,
foremost my fathers. The case of "Jake Jinkin's Homicide" was
probably the easiest case my mother has ever played in the game.
Not for a second did she ever became stomped on a question, not once
did she stutter trying to find the right words for her next move.
As I sat in court watching my mother play her cards right, I saw a
passion coming from my mother that I had never seen before.
The trial only took one week before the jury had
reached it's verdict. Although my mother convinced them of my
innocence, the public had a different opinion. They believed that
because I was the running governor's daughter, the jury was either bribed with
money, or false preachings of innocence. However, I believe all
the credit shouldn't be going to my mother. It took one brave
soul, a surprising eye witness to tell his side of the story that night
My mother's skillful ways may have dodged a bullet
heading towards me, but there were still more rifles aiming to make my
life a little more miserable as time grew on. Every single time I
asked my mother for a favor, she would give me the guilt trip on
something I never asked for. Going on and about how well she
defended me in the trial although she had a sense I didn't kill him
through self-defense, she would talk about money figures.
"Do you know how much I spent for that punk kid to
lie? Actors that young are hard to find and are not cheap" Then
she would blabber about the Jinkins
"Do you even think that Jake's family is at the
bitter end happy with what you've done? How upset must his mother
and father be to have their youngest son dead all because of a stupid
slut?"
Heavy tear drops would always occur and I usually
walked away. Simple favors such as letting me go to play with
Cindy, or call the babysitter because I need knew clothing, she would
get frustrated at. I never asked her to defend my wrong doing
because I was willing to pay the consequences, I never asked or uttered
anything about getting someone to lie. The last thing I'd ever
ask my parents was to take care of me, and that was because I knew the
answer would be no.
Even though I shouldn't have bothered with asking to
go outside, I decided to ask once again. After bombarding me with
the same guilt trip, I finally stood up and questioned her love for her
only child. This moment would have defined my future
relationship with her.
"What if you found me dead because of some jock
wanted to rape me? Would you had shown compassion for you
daughter!?" I screamed
Her grim expression turned into frustration.
She raised her almighty hand and threw a huge smack right across the
cheek.
"You bitch!" she replied. "You dumb little
bitch! I wouldn't lay a finger on those files if you were
murdered, you most likely would had deserved it anyway. I don't
know what you had become, sneaking out and fucking men. How many
young men did you fuck and plan to kill?"
I looked down and began to cry. "None"
"Liar! it must of been done too many
times. What did this Jinkins boy say to you that you just wanted
to stab him right on his heart?" She yelled.
I began to cry heavily. The tears watered the
garden of hatred and decietful lies. My eyes couldn't bare to
look her straight in the eye, and just my luck a bullet was
fired. My father waking up from the argument was trying to figure
out was happening. My mother reached for a belt and strapped it
around her wrist. Before you know it, I was laying on the floor
with a couple of slashes on my side.
"You bitch!" she kept screaming as the belt whipped
through my salt like skin. I wouldn't had never though the pain
would stop. My father grabbed her arm and threw her on the bed.
He began to yell and question her authority. As my mother tried
to explain, my father told her off. He then looked at me and took
off his muscle shirt. My mother sitting still on the bed had a
confused look on her face, then it became a hopeless expression.
"Mary, pick yourself up and go to your room" He
demanded. Without question, I dragged my helpless body out of the
room. As soon as my whole body passed through the doors, he
slammed them shut and locked them. Sounds couldn't be transferred
out of the room to well unless the doors were open. Behind the
closed doors, I heard a weeping pain, then weeping moans begging for it
to stop. I feared and trembled that the same would happen to me
soon.
--- End Chapter 1 ----
| | |
| And the conclusion of the scenario is ....
As he dragged me into the master bedroom, four men
were standing in the hall way leading to the bedroom, chatting and
laughing. Once they saw me beside jake, following him without
question, the four young men in varsity jackets cheered on.
One shouted, "Hey you don't mind if I watch eh Jake?"
The others laughed and cheered on some more, he
guided me through the open door and yelled back "This bitch is drunk, I
wouldn't mind if you guys joined."
Suddenly, there was a brief pause. I layed on
the huge King sized bed on top of a pink fluffy comforter. I
tried my best to find out why Jake was taking so long to take me.
All I heard were calm, convincing replies of "Yeah" and "sure" coming
from his mouth. The door was finally kicked open, and the dim lit
room suddenly became bright due to the hallway light. Jake and
his four friends came in and surrounded the bed. All five men
began to undress slowly. Jake came beside me and kissed me some
more.
"What are they doing?" I silently asked. His
wet puckered lips moved from my chest to my crimson lips to keep me
from talking. I began to resist. "What are they doing?"
demanding an answer. One male to the left said out loud, "don't
worry bitch, it's going to be a long night".
Quickly I felt Jake's hands hold my wrist down,
another man grabbed my legs. The other three men forced off most
of my clothes and began licking every piece of my skin. I tried
to resist by kicking and squirming my arms, it was no use. The
beverages Jake had served me had weakened my ability to move or to
think. As soon as I resisted, Jake held on tighter to my wrist,
and another person would slap me. As time went on, the same
routine was going on. I was kissing every man in the room and decided
to just let whatever happens, happen. One man pushed everyone who
was holding me down and held me down himself. he began to lick my
cheek and started ramming his penis inside of me. I spat in his
face, but all that earned was another slap across the face. Just
a few minutes later, my body wasn't able to keep up with the energy
every man was spending on me. The scene drew black.
I was passed out for about six hours. Right
before my eyes closed in shame, the small alarm clock which was on the
night table to the side of the bed read 12:33 AM. By the time I
woke up conscious, I found myself moaning and a man on top of
me. My hands were to weak to push him aside and my head fell to
the left facing the alarm clock. My eyes saw a huge red blur on
the small clock, however I saw three numbers that made out to be a 6, a
5, and a 7. The person on top of me gave his final stroke and
gave off a nasty horrible sound. His facial expression had gave
the impression something got stuck up his asshole and he loved
it. His arms weakened and his body just landed right on top of
me. His sour tongue began licking dried saliva from the other men who
date raped me off my neck.
After a certain amount of minutes, he rolled over
and put his denim black jeans on, and left the scene. I
questioned my weak mind as I layed on that bed, did they ever stop or
did the love kept coming. I passed out once again only to wake up
seeing Jake Jinkins sitting on the corner of the room.
Like a jerk, he asked "That was some crazy party last night, huh?"
My head turned to the alarm clock, this time I had
twenty-twenty vision. 9:19 A.M. The asshole named Jake
Jinkins thought I forgot all about the social gathering last night,
which carried on this morning. I sat straight up and felt my
cheeck. My soft wrist and cheek joined each other in matrimony as
both swelled in pain. Seconds later, I felt another pain in my
inner thighs. A little blood was inked on the spot where I
laid.
"So, if you want to do this again, come swing by
anytime you like" He said as he chuckled. My head face the clock,
9:24 A.M. was marked. However, my eyes weren't aimed for the
time, it was aimed at a knife that was shining some light from the
reflection of the sun. I got up and tested my legs for walking
purposes. My inner thighs were in pain, but it was
tolerable. I walked slowly to the night table and bent
over.
"Why wait for another time when there's all the time
to do it now" I told him in a seductive attitude. My plan for him
to try fucking me now had worked. He got up from his chair and
rushed to lock the door. From the locked door, he ran to
me. As soon as one hand touched my hip, and the other hand
unzipped his pants, I took the knife and slowly stabbed him
repeatedly. I stabbed him four times in the chest, and about six
times on his arm. The blood on the knife caused it to slip from
my hands causing it to bounce to the corner. The helpless jake stared
at me with shock as he tried to breathe.
"How do you like that feeling of discomfort Jake?" I
screamed. As he tried to get me off his blood filled body, I
began punching his throat and scratching his face. Emotions flared as I
kept throwing down the stone like punches. On his final attempt
of survival, he put his hand on my neck. His arm
did not have enough strength to apply pressure to his hand for a result
of him chocking me. Instead, his hand touched my neck, and fell
right back
onto the bed. He lied there motionless.
Anger from my father and Jake to have given me a
sense of distrust, not only enough to beat, but rape somone who cared
for them, can be conluded the cause of my very first murder.
Every blood gushing stab and hit that I fed to Jake that morning is
calculated from all the anger I hid inside for a very long time.
His urges and greed that fed off my body had caused a spark for
revenge, and it felt great.
| | |
| The Drama Continues ....
For as long as I could remember, I never saw my
mother being truthful to her love. Her sin of adultery had been
exploited during the time of my fathers drunkeness rehab. As sly
as a fox, she would sneak up different men, sometimes clients up into
her room almost every month. Pleasure as she once called it left
me to believe that that is what love was, and my father was giving me
lots of it. I haven't understood how pleasureful it could feel
when your being held down so roughly and the skin is being left with
prints of hand marks. Since my mother was going on her way to
success and my father was going to be in rehab for sometime, there was
no one to care for me, rather neglect. I noticed after every session in
the room, mom would have a happy
expression on her face, but everytime she comes back from a visit from
my father, she would sometimes whimper in pain. Questioning
myself "Does my father do the same thing to me on to my mother?" I
decided to sneak out and find out what the real feeling of this
pleasure was for myself.
Every day around 5 PM, I would sneak out of the
house and go visit the hottest spot for teenagers to go to after
school. Almost every other day, Jake Jinkins would be sitting at
a certain spot in the food court. After analyzing his movement, I
concluded that on tuesdays, he sits with a girl who could be his sister
by "Burger Palace", on wednesdays, him and his friends sit closest to
"Spicy Mexican Grill", and on saturdays, he sits by himself in the
corner of the food court, nearest to an exit. Jake never noticed
that for months, I've been keeping track of what he does every single
time I see him. Call me a stalker, however people should be
congratulating on my success, he was my first crush.
If anything, out of all the males who I saw at the
mall, he was the one I would of chose to experience what my mom is
feeling with her clients. Of course I had no knowledge of basic
standard on what to look into for a man. Basically whoever
attracted my eye was going to be my victim, or the one to victimize
me. On a saturday, I approached him so bravely and confidently to
say hello. Success was uttered as him and I exchanged
introductions. After a brief conversation about
introducting backgrounds, he invited me to come over at a party two
weeks from the current date. He bragged about all his friends
will be there and if I had any that was willing to go, that I should
invite them as well. What he didn't tell me was him and his
friends were just looking for a tight cunt to play with.
Two weeks rushed, and on the night before the huge
party was to come, my mother recieved news that my father will be able
to go home. Glen Walder may remove his belongings from the asylum
and attend to it at home, however he must come by the office atleast
three times every week for more therapy. The grim look on her
face made it seem she was very confused or unhappy. What can she
do now about the current situation? She'll have to confess her
sin to her new lover, on the other hand, the new lovers she brings home
every month must have known. It's impossible for a rookie lawyer
to have a wealthy status from a few cases she's won. As for me,
the letter regarding his return still brought chills. Was the
therapy enough for him to stop hurting me, or was he the same man and
he'll never change? I had five days to think of the results of
his return, for now I must concentrate on my first social challenge,
Jinkins party.
I didn't shop much, the times I went to the mall was
either with my babysitter who was instructed to by my clothes, and the
stalking of Jake. Since my babysitter dressed up in a whore's
outfit, she would spend my family's money on slut outfits on me.
Even though she may look experienced, and sometime gross, I was fooled
to believe she was one of my only friends. At the age of
twenty-two, she gave me direction in fashion sense, and how did it pay
off? I was wearing a gothic school girl outfit for the
party. The top was a regular white dress shirt, only now it's
tied up to cover my chest and expose the belly button, and a black and
red plaid short mini skirt. On my legs were fishnet stockings which
were uncomfortable, and huge platform buckle shoes. It was
advised by the babysitter named Hurley that I should wear this type of
outfit to a social gathering.
I snuck out of my room around 10 PM, mother and her
new boyfriend were sound asleep, or silently in love. With the
money I stole from my mothers purse earlier in the day, I ran to the
cab service and rode to Jinkins house. Just as he promised me
before we parted ways the first time we met, he would be standing
outside his porch waiting for me. As time went on, I had met
every girl that was in the party. Jake stood by my side the whole
time the party was going on, when some drunk slobbered over my arm, he
would push them away. Being the romantic man he was, he protected
me from anyone in that party. I experienced something different
that night. For a moment, it could of been love, or it could have
been feeling empty-headed without being hit.
As Jake protected me from disgusting guests, he fed
me drink by drink throughout the night. I tasted what my father
had a problem with. As horrifying the taste was, I kept accepting
the beer soaking my tongue. I trusted Jake with everything he
gave me.
Time passed, the moon was still bright in the
midnight sky. Many people left, a majority of male passed out and
slept on the floor, the only ones left was Jake and four other
companions of his. His lips puckered my neck and in an instant,
my toes curled, I kissed him back. Jake suggested we go upstairs
and do something right. He kept kissing my neck down to my chest, and whispering "I love you" as he was
waiting for my approval. His four companions went upstairs as he
pestered me with his sweet taste from his lips. He began tingling
his fingers on my inner thigh, I brush it off like a spider but his
persistence had landed him me giving myself onto him. I told him
to lets go and as soon as those words came out, he rushed up the stairs
in a hurry, dragging my half awake, half asleep body to his room.
| | |
| Chapter 1 - The Scene's of Horror
Whispers of agony has given me a title for an
uttermost and disgusting discomfort anyone could ever experience.
Am I experiencing freedom, or has an event such as manslaughter brought
me to a position where I will be trapped behind another closed
door? Two bodies lay on the floor on top of once a blue chinese
imported rug, now in the color of blood. There is no shame in
guilt, and there is certainly no forgiveness in a normal society.
Sad to say, guilt is non-existent in the mind of a killer.
However, one doesn't have to be a killer to have no shame or
guilt.
The two bodies I have dealt with were known to be
perfect in the eyes of society. A well trained proffesional at
her office, she defended victims to her last breathe. Every piece
of evidence she could possibly use, she exploited just to bring
justice in the city. When asked by her only child "How are you so
certain the man or woman you are defending today is innocent?" she
softly whispers "The highest bidder of course". According
to my many assumptions, every last one she prosecuted may have been
innocent. I could be ignorant and say such a thing due to the
fact I hate her with a passion, however it is my mother, and I should
always stick by her side. That is exactly what I did, I stuck a
knife right on the side of her expecting stomach. Whatever gender
was developing in the womb, it certainly wasn't my fathers.
The second body once having the sour stench of
alcohol, now only having the smell of rotten flesh and pure blood was a
good man behind the demon. From political debates, charming
appearances in the local news, and participating in community service,
Glen Walder seemed to be the perfect candidate for the city's
governor. Elected twice and was soon to be third in a row, Mr.
Walder seemed to have it all. A wife, a great political stand,
and a daughter to abuse every day, whether it was mentally or
physically. Around the time I was at the age of eleven, his
favorite saying he wanted to hear was "Daddy dont, daddy stop".
In his sick mind, my sweet, cute, innocent little voice screaming those
haunting words would motivate him to go for more. Since his mind
was poisoned by whatever contaminated beverage he had been served that
night, the abuse would be led for hours. There would be days
when I didn't want to go outside and play with my best friend Cindy
because I couldn't walk. There would be times when I couldn't
walk, the head of the household would give me chores to do. Since
I wasn't able to fulfill his obligations, the same punishment happened
the very same night. And his dead wife that lies next to him now
pretended as if nothing ever happened.
Murderer's say never look in the eye of the one you
are about to kill, or the one you just killed, the situation will haunt
you forever. Suppose the haunting would last as a good
memory. For a moment I feel as if I unlocked the melody of broken
chains, but the two bodies who lie on the chinese rug helplessly
weren't even the worse situations I had to go through in life.
Many encounters gave me experience of what to expect from the
two. But who ever knew that evil existed behind the golden gates
of the mansion? All of my life until the teenaged years, my
friends were elected by my parents, I was told where to go rather than
find things out for myself. I never had true freedom until my
mother and father became so successful in what they do.
By the time the bitch became a lawyer was around the
same time my father became finally elected. After running for
governor for five years, his time of guarantee that he would win the
people's hearts had come. Four years before the guarantee was
made, his urge for rape and my discomfort had weakened. Glen
Walder secretly went into alcohol and drug related rehab and learned
how to control his drinking status. From then on, his commitment
on drinking was only for social reasons. I honestly thought the
beatings would stop then and there. At the age of fourteen, I
finally understood what my parents have been doing to me since the age
of ten. Knowing that he finally put the beer runs behind him, I
felt a little security. About six weeks after he completed his
rehab, his urge for fucking a little girl came about. From then
on, his urges would be on and off, he wouldn't abuse me as consistently
as he did when my age turned double digits.
I understood what he was doing to me, I never
realized it was wrong until a year later. My parents were so rich
during the five year political run, they afforded to have me shun from
the world. Banished from stepping my ragged, untied shoe onto
American soil, I was destined to stay home and kept away from society
in fear that what went on behind the closed doors in the room would
escape. I was pulled away from public school, and thrown into my
room to study all day and throughout the night when my father wasn't
touching me. At the age of 16, I begged my parents to let me drop
out of this home schooling and let me live a life. After a couple
of days from slaps and denials from my mother, they were convinced to
let me go.
Mostly everything I learned was from television,
books, and employees of my father had hired. Although they were
in the house most of the time, they never had the slightest idea what
happened, and if they did have suspicions by looking at the large
bruise on my arm, my father would roll out fifty or a hundred dollar
bills, and shove it in their pockets to keep them quiet.
As two wealthy people stare in shock of how did a
situation ever result in a murder, I question myself was this all worth
it? Like I said before, "I felt as if I unlocked the melody of
broken chains" yet there's an empty space that is felt in my
stomach. It seems a piece of my favorite jigsaw puzzle was
missing in my heart. As I twirl the sharp butterfly knife stolen
from a high school sophomore named Jake Jinkins or J.J. for short, I began to
have flashbacks of
something he would like to call love.
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