As she settles to her knees, you feel her hands caress your ass, then pull your pants and underwear down towards your knees. Jasmine purrs, "Whatever you say, my Bigtime Director,"
What follows is a pretty indescribable experience, Benny. You feel her hands grip your hardness, her lips around your cock, your balls. Then, you swear you feel other things touching you. For a brief moment, you feel another hand on your ass, but then it's gone.
She swallows you with expert precision, Benny. You may have had a BJ before, but this girl, here in the dark, cold alley, with only the sounds of the guttering flames of the gaslight and the lewd sounds of her mouth on you, it is amazing. Euphoric.
The sense of danger is omnipresent, only adding spice to the moment. The tall windows of the school loom over the shorter building beside you. They look like arches brows. Disapproving brows. Someone is watching you, someone can see you, Benny.
Your hands are on Jasmine's sweat-slick hair, her soft head that seems to undulate without moving. It feels like a bug skittering across the back of your hand, but then it's gone. And you hit the wall. Finally, everything clenches up for a brief moment of bliss.
Then you cum, Benny. Like a fucking firehose. Into Jasmine's willing mouth. You did it. You fucking did it.
From beneath you, you hear Jasmine, "...huh huh, that was. Pretty great. Right?" You're worn, man. All that tension leaving your body with the orgasm, you're tapped. Tired. Drained, heh. Yeah, drained of a bit more than you anticipated. You aren't going to pass out or anything. But it took the edge off, that's for sure.
That's three successes for you, only one for me. Exhaustion dominates, so you gain one Exhaustion, bringing it to two
Wow. That's a first. I'm mostly a "good boy"... I haven't blown in anything but my fist, ever. Eileen watched, once, both of us in our soccer gear, behind the gym, but... Wow.
I read something, somewhere, about how too many orgasms can leave you drained, like there's only a certain fixed number that you get before you die. That counted for about a dozen. I'm surprised Jasmine can even speak, the amount of cum that just pumped out.
Some macho culturally-received bullshit swims to the surface now that my balls are empty. Or maybe it's primal. "Jasmine? I'm not going in there. I don't know what's going on today, but that school is some horrorshow looking shit. I'm not going in there."
"But..." the unseen Jasmine sputters in the dark, "But Mother When wants to meet you, Benny. I really need you to meet her, okay? She might like you. She might let me, you know, date you or whatever..." You can practically feel her near you.
"I just totally gave you a blowjob, Benny. Don't you kinda owe me?"
I reach down to bring Jasmine to her feet, take a step toward the light. "Jasmine? Where are we? What happened to me today? Are you... really... Jasmine?"
You reach blindly out where Jasmine should be, and feel her shoulder. She scuffles on the cobblestone as she stands, still in the dark when you step back into the gaslight.
"We're in The City, Benny," she says quietly. Her tone is a little hesitant, worried. "Not your city, though. Strangers call it the Mad City. It's my home."
"...and Benny... I can be Jasmine. Your Jasmine. If you want me... to."
Worse, because I've known all along, sorta. Too good to be true, I knew it was too good to be true. I've been pretending, convincing myself, letting my balls drive.
"Step into the light. Let me see who you really are."
Several moments pass. There's only the sound of the guttering gaslight flame as a light wind picks up. The breeze carries a smell of burned wax and coal.
Not Jasmine finally asks quietly, "What does it matter who I really am? I can be anything you want me to be.... isn't that better?" She moves closer, still hidden bodily in the light, but you see a bare foot move into the light, a small, delicate cake-white foot.
"I'll be a better Jasmine for you, Benny. A better anything you want. Just show me. Tell me. Make me." She hesitates, just the one foot showing, leading up to a knee just hidden in shadow.
You catch a scent like old rotten flowers on the air.
Out of the shadows steps a completely nude, pale teenage girl. Her eyes look disappointed, rejected and hurt.
"This... is how I was before, Benny. Before I came to the City." she says it like she's a little hurt, not at all relieved to be revealing herself. Her body is definitely thinner than Jasmine's. She's not... unattractive, except for the unearthly color and the way she seems to have a slight nimbus.
I really don't want to go into that building. Really... But maybe this Mother When can explain what the hell is going on, what's happening to me? There's no reason I should hurt this girl... if you're not too picky about definitions, she's been... kind... to me. Also, it felt good.
Her lips curl up in a quick little smile. She closes her eyes for a second, and you see the flesh on her torso warp slightly like a ripple of water on a pond. Colors bubble up and she's wearing a school uniform. The skirt, which is knee-length, is black and gray plaid. She's wearing thigh high white stocks and patent-leather shoes, complete with a short-sleeved, button-up white dress shirt and a matching dark gray scarf. Her face and hair remain that colorless chalk, her eyes still charcoal.
She offers you her hand, waiting to see if you'll take it. "I know Mother When will like you, Benny. Not like, uhm... not like I like you. But good enough." She wiggles her pale fingers, looking at you expectantly.
I don't take her hand, for now, but I'll walk next to her, pretty close. "So, what's your real name, anyway?" Inside, I'm shaky as hell, but outside I'm doing my best impression of a cucumber in the chiller drawer.
Not taking her hand causes the smile to falter, but she doesn't say anything, just walks slowly, beside you. "I don't have a name yet. Mother When calls my classmates and I her Ladies in Hating." She looks over for your reaction, but keeps talking, "I'll get a name when I graduate. Of my own choosing, which is pretty rad. What name do you like, Benny?"
Her shoes click a bit with each step. She's walking between you and the school right now, putting you closer to the street. When you look at her, above her, from the school, those window-eyes are still watching you, and there are shadows moving behind the panes, forms and silhouettes.
She reaches the gate, a wrought-iron black monstrosity with a shield emblazoned on it of a weeping angel. It opens with a creak and groan of metal and rust, even though it isn't rusty. There's a long set of stairs up to the front door. She pauses, waiting for you. Or a name. Or both.
She turns on a heel, her long, straight white hair flowing with the move, looking up at you with sudden delight. "Bianca?" Her tone is pleased. "That's really sweet, Benny!"
She blinks a couple times, looking up at you, "Soooo much better than what I thought you might call me: "Not Jasmine"." She smiles a quick smile, "I'm Bianca now."
Bianca whirls back to the stairs, her pleated skirt floating along as she takes the stairs with her click click click shoes. Above her, the double doors of deepest brown open silently, slowly, a yawning mouth. It's dark inside, but there is a feeling of immense space beyond.
When you crest the stairs, you see a long hallway stretching on for too long.
There are no children, no students, no hubbub or activity. Somewhere you hear water dripping, echos bouncing down the hall.
Suddenly by the door near you, stepping out of the shadows is a foreboding woman slightly taller than you, rail thin and bony with her hair pulled painfully back into a tight bun, her black within black eyes piercing behind round spectacles. In her left hand is a yardstick. She's dressed in the black frock of a nun, complete with the overlarge white scapular over her shoulders, but she isn't wearing a coif on her head or a cross around her neck.
"Mother When..." Bianca begins, talking quickly, but she's immediately interrupted.
"Young Lady," Mother When says, her grating voice cutting through the cool air of the school. "It appears you have brought... a guest?"
Bianca licks suddenly dry lips, swallows once and answers dutifully, "Yes, this is my friend, Benny. He's Awake! And he's a director. I'm... his."
Mother When arches a brow skeptically, "You are... HIS?" Her tone becomes commanding, "Not so, young Lady. You belong to this school. You are here at this Finishing School. Until. You are Finished." She brings the yardstick down like a scythe, slapping it home against her own palm. It makes a terribly loud SMACK, and Bianca flinches.
Bianca tries to speak up, to answer, but Mother When cuts her off with a raise of her hand. She turns to you, Benny. "Benny, is it? Why are you here? Do you want to fuck one of my ladies? I smell her on you, you know. And I smell your cum on her despicable breath." As she dresses you down, you feel this weight on your shoulders, this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Guilt, you feel it like lead.
Mother When begins to walk around you, still piercing you with her eyes, "You are a naughty little boy, Benny. I can help you, though. Gain forgiveness for your many sins. I can help mold you into a... better person. Once you enroll in my school, I'm sure we can help you reach. Your full potential."
Bianca is shirking back, eyes wide with concern, stuck here, but it looks like she wants to run. Mother When stops just between you and the doorway, barring your east exit. "Shall we process your... application, Benny?"
A panicked glance to Bianca, meeting her eyes and suddenly completely aware that she cannot help me. She actually thought it was a good thing to introduce me to this... woman?
Here's the thing. I totally do Authority Figures. Dad, Mom, Coach, teachers, Reverend Harly, everyone else's parents... I've been kissing ass for seventeen years, right? I know what I'm about to say is ridiculous and probably useless, but: "Ma'am, I'm afraid I already have a school, and my parents wouldn't be okay with me just transferring. I do thank you for your interest, though, and if you have any literature I could show my folks, I'd be happy to do that." I hold my hand out for a respectful handshake.
It's a Hail Mary pass that's bound to miss, but I have to say something, right?
Mother When smacks the yardstick against her palm again. Her upper lip quivers slightly with barely controlled rage. "Young man. I will not brook disrespect in my school."
Her eyes snap over to Bianca, "Young Lady, escort your friend to the Quiet Room. Then, you will head to the chapel. For confession."
"Yes, Mother When." Bianca intones in a broken tone, full of disappointment and misery.
Mother When rails on her again, "If you fail to perform this simple task, you will be at your rope's end, young Lady. I will be forced. To expel you."
Bianca whimpers once, then moves closer to you, "Will you... come with me, please?"
A few steps, where I'm thinking as hard as I can. First off, I need to throw Mother When off the scent. My success with fucking with Heather's eyes gives me this idea.
So, I grab Bianca's hand (belatedly, I know). We stay put. In my head, I watch us continuing to walk down the hallway, endless and freaky as it seems. I'm ready to scoop Bianca up and break for the door as soon as Mother When is out of the way, like she follows or goes away.
Well, it looks like 5 successes for you, 4 successes for Mother When, so you pull it off (a squeaker).
It also looks like Pain would dominate.... BUT, I'm going to spend one of my two Coins of Despair to add a 6 to your Madness results. So, that means Madness (6/5) dominates over Pain (6/4).
Things get more chaotic, Benny. Mark off a response box, and react accordingly.
Shit. It seems like Mother When is off the trail for the moment, but fuck... I grab Bianca, hoist her into my arms, and run like fuck. At some point between us and the door, she looks back at Mother When, says, "I can't... can't leave." and twitches out of my grip. I can't stop. Freaked out and sad, but I can't stop. I run for the door, and keep running until...
You keep running down the cobblestone street, shoes splashing on the wet stones, into the dark and light patterns, under gaslight, then in darkness. Light, then dark.
Until you come running through one dark patch and end up in a soccer field. Your soccer field, Benny, the practice one. You recognize the feel of the grass, the position of the goals and the pair of metal bleachers to the west. The high school, your high school is just over to the right. It's night. Late. Way late. Like... midnight-ish. You'd guess, at least.
What do you do?
By the by, because I spent a Coin of Despair, you now have one Coin of Hope. You may spend one coin of hope to remove one exhaustion, or to remove a check mark from fight or flight. If you have los, or to add a 1 to your discipline pool. By "adding a 1", it means one time after rolling, before determining results, you may "add a 1" to the Discipline Pool, giving you an extra success.
I'm totally screwed, I think. No way I'm not getting caught sneaking back in to the house unless I come up with a plan. I walk back to the neighborhood. Are there any lights on in my house?
Lights are off at your house. It's cool out. Lights are off at most houses on the street, but you see the porch light is on at Kurt and Eileen's.
Eileen is sitting on the front steps. Smoking. She hides the cig, but yeah, it's obvious she's smoking, playing on her phone or texting someone. Something.
Here's how she normally looks at school:
She's not wearing make-up right now. But she's still pretty, just little bits of acne on her left cheek. She hasn't seen you yet, but you know just walking by, she will.
She looks up when your motion comes by her peripheral vision. "Benny." She waves back. Then, she tamps out her cig and hops up to quick-walk down to the sidewalk towards you. "Hey Benny, I heard Darius was a fucker. Are you okay?"
She falls in line beside you, walking and peering at you in the dim light of the streetlamps. "Rough day, yeah. Listen... tomorrow's going to be shittastic for you. But I've got your back."
You come to your house, just a turn down the walk to your front door. Eileen stops, not like she's going to hound you to the front door. Her breath smells like Virginia Slims. She's wearing a hoodie, shorts and sneakers, no socks.
I sort through everything. All the hormones, the fear, the deception, the manipulation, the fucked-up-ness. I look at Eileen, trying to decide if she's some artifact of the.. what, "Mad City"? After a second or two I decide "No," for no particular reason past gut reaction.
"Listen... I'm totally wiped, and I'm probably gonna get snagged for being out so late. But, thanks... Thanks for having my back. I don't deserve it, but, thanks." I give her a quick hug, no big deal.
She hugs you back, a hand on the small of your back for a moment. Steps back, "Benny, your videos are great, okay? Just because she has a complex or something, doesn't mean you should stop. Just... promise you'll keep doing what you do. Kay?"
I squeeze back. "Thanks, 'Lean." Straighten my shoulders... I walk up to the door, consider, and go to the back door. Let myself in. I try to get up to my room without dealing with anybody. So, I'm walking up the stairs...
You creep past the closed door to your parent's bedroom, the light was on. You make it past your sister's bedroom, where the light was off, but some music was playing really soft. That new carpet really saved your ass.
You head into your room. What does it look like?
There's a note on your desk, hand-written, your dad careful script. If you are reading this,
but you didn't get to talk to me first,
you're still grounded. One week.
Home from school right after. Chores. Room.
Dad
I drop my bag on the desk next to Dad's note. Not unexpected, and a week is actually not too bad a sentence, considering. (And if Dad really knew...)
My room's pretty normal, except for maybe being a little neater than most guys my age. There's a vintage Pelé poster over the desk that Heather got me for Christmas two years ago in a stunning and unexpected burst of insight. A shelf of Police Youth Club soccer trophies from elementary school and junior high. A bookshelf with school books, another full of books about films and film making. A dog-eared paperback copy of Theodor Roszak's Flicker, my favorite novel, on the nightstand, along with a signed first edition on the film shelf. A US Soccer flag draped above the bed.
I sit on the bed, wonder how I'm going to manage "home from school right after" when I seem to keep flipping back and forth to this Mad City. I hope Bianca's okay, even if she lied about who she was and was more than a little freaky.
Nice room, Benny. I really get a picture of who you are. Or were. Things changing fast, right?
So you're grounded, and you haven't slept in... how long? How do you pass the time? I assume you aren't going back out again, right? That would be, well, unwise.
I open my bag, get out the laptop, plug it in to the wall and all the various peripheral devices. When I see the GoPro in the bag, I curse (softly, of course). Had the goddam camera with me and filmed nothing. Idiot.
It's been nine days now since I've slept at all, and for a few weeks before that it was just dribs and drabs. Normally I'd work on video. Editing, finding old footage on archive.org, storyboarding. Tonight I can't. I don't want to revisit the Jasmine/Bianca stuff right now. I just stare at the screen.
Finally, though, I hook the GoPro in like a webcam, set up a mic and start up my video studio software. This is not my usual thing, putting myself on camera, and I may never post this anywhere, but it seems like a good idea right now.
I click the appropriate buttons, look into the camera and begin:
"Hi. This is Benny, and I've had the weirdest day..."
Comments
What follows is a pretty indescribable experience, Benny. You feel her hands grip your hardness, her lips around your cock, your balls. Then, you swear you feel other things touching you. For a brief moment, you feel another hand on your ass, but then it's gone.
She swallows you with expert precision, Benny. You may have had a BJ before, but this girl, here in the dark, cold alley, with only the sounds of the guttering flames of the gaslight and the lewd sounds of her mouth on you, it is amazing. Euphoric.
The sense of danger is omnipresent, only adding spice to the moment. The tall windows of the school loom over the shorter building beside you. They look like arches brows. Disapproving brows. Someone is watching you, someone can see you, Benny.
Your hands are on Jasmine's sweat-slick hair, her soft head that seems to undulate without moving. It feels like a bug skittering across the back of your hand, but then it's gone. And you hit the wall. Finally, everything clenches up for a brief moment of bliss.
Then you cum, Benny. Like a fucking firehose. Into Jasmine's willing mouth. You did it. You fucking did it.
From beneath you, you hear Jasmine, "...huh huh, that was. Pretty great. Right?" You're worn, man. All that tension leaving your body with the orgasm, you're tapped. Tired. Drained, heh. Yeah, drained of a bit more than you anticipated. You aren't going to pass out or anything. But it took the edge off, that's for sure.
That's three successes for you, only one for me. Exhaustion dominates, so you gain one Exhaustion, bringing it to two
I read something, somewhere, about how too many orgasms can leave you drained, like there's only a certain fixed number that you get before you die. That counted for about a dozen. I'm surprised Jasmine can even speak, the amount of cum that just pumped out.
Some macho culturally-received bullshit swims to the surface now that my balls are empty. Or maybe it's primal. "Jasmine? I'm not going in there. I don't know what's going on today, but that school is some horrorshow looking shit. I'm not going in there."
"I just totally gave you a blowjob, Benny. Don't you kinda owe me?"
"We're in The City, Benny," she says quietly. Her tone is a little hesitant, worried. "Not your city, though. Strangers call it the Mad City. It's my home."
"...and Benny... I can be Jasmine. Your Jasmine. If you want me... to."
Worse, because I've known all along, sorta. Too good to be true, I knew it was too good to be true. I've been pretending, convincing myself, letting my balls drive.
"Step into the light. Let me see who you really are."
Not Jasmine finally asks quietly, "What does it matter who I really am? I can be anything you want me to be.... isn't that better?" She moves closer, still hidden bodily in the light, but you see a bare foot move into the light, a small, delicate cake-white foot.
"I'll be a better Jasmine for you, Benny. A better anything you want. Just show me. Tell me. Make me." She hesitates, just the one foot showing, leading up to a knee just hidden in shadow.
You catch a scent like old rotten flowers on the air.
"This... is how I was before, Benny. Before I came to the City." she says it like she's a little hurt, not at all relieved to be revealing herself. Her body is definitely thinner than Jasmine's. She's not... unattractive, except for the unearthly color and the way she seems to have a slight nimbus.
"Will you come see Mother When now?"
"Yes. I guess I will."
She offers you her hand, waiting to see if you'll take it. "I know Mother When will like you, Benny. Not like, uhm... not like I like you. But good enough." She wiggles her pale fingers, looking at you expectantly.
Her shoes click a bit with each step. She's walking between you and the school right now, putting you closer to the street. When you look at her, above her, from the school, those window-eyes are still watching you, and there are shadows moving behind the panes, forms and silhouettes.
She reaches the gate, a wrought-iron black monstrosity with a shield emblazoned on it of a weeping angel. It opens with a creak and groan of metal and rust, even though it isn't rusty. There's a long set of stairs up to the front door. She pauses, waiting for you. Or a name. Or both.
She blinks a couple times, looking up at you, "Soooo much better than what I thought you might call me: "Not Jasmine"." She smiles a quick smile, "I'm Bianca now."
Bianca whirls back to the stairs, her pleated skirt floating along as she takes the stairs with her click click click shoes. Above her, the double doors of deepest brown open silently, slowly, a yawning mouth. It's dark inside, but there is a feeling of immense space beyond.
When you crest the stairs, you see a long hallway stretching on for too long.
There are no children, no students, no hubbub or activity. Somewhere you hear water dripping, echos bouncing down the hall.
Suddenly by the door near you, stepping out of the shadows is a foreboding woman slightly taller than you, rail thin and bony with her hair pulled painfully back into a tight bun, her black within black eyes piercing behind round spectacles. In her left hand is a yardstick. She's dressed in the black frock of a nun, complete with the overlarge white scapular over her shoulders, but she isn't wearing a coif on her head or a cross around her neck.
"Mother When..." Bianca begins, talking quickly, but she's immediately interrupted.
"Young Lady," Mother When says, her grating voice cutting through the cool air of the school. "It appears you have brought... a guest?"
Bianca licks suddenly dry lips, swallows once and answers dutifully, "Yes, this is my friend, Benny. He's Awake! And he's a director. I'm... his."
Mother When arches a brow skeptically, "You are... HIS?" Her tone becomes commanding, "Not so, young Lady. You belong to this school. You are here at this Finishing School. Until. You are Finished." She brings the yardstick down like a scythe, slapping it home against her own palm. It makes a terribly loud SMACK, and Bianca flinches.
Bianca tries to speak up, to answer, but Mother When cuts her off with a raise of her hand. She turns to you, Benny. "Benny, is it? Why are you here? Do you want to fuck one of my ladies? I smell her on you, you know. And I smell your cum on her despicable breath." As she dresses you down, you feel this weight on your shoulders, this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Guilt, you feel it like lead.
Mother When begins to walk around you, still piercing you with her eyes, "You are a naughty little boy, Benny. I can help you, though. Gain forgiveness for your many sins. I can help mold you into a... better person. Once you enroll in my school, I'm sure we can help you reach. Your full potential."
Bianca is shirking back, eyes wide with concern, stuck here, but it looks like she wants to run. Mother When stops just between you and the doorway, barring your east exit. "Shall we process your... application, Benny?"
What do you do?
Here's the thing. I totally do Authority Figures. Dad, Mom, Coach, teachers, Reverend Harly, everyone else's parents... I've been kissing ass for seventeen years, right? I know what I'm about to say is ridiculous and probably useless, but: "Ma'am, I'm afraid I already have a school, and my parents wouldn't be okay with me just transferring. I do thank you for your interest, though, and if you have any literature I could show my folks, I'd be happy to do that." I hold my hand out for a respectful handshake.
It's a Hail Mary pass that's bound to miss, but I have to say something, right?
Her eyes snap over to Bianca, "Young Lady, escort your friend to the Quiet Room. Then, you will head to the chapel. For confession."
"Yes, Mother When." Bianca intones in a broken tone, full of disappointment and misery.
Mother When rails on her again, "If you fail to perform this simple task, you will be at your rope's end, young Lady. I will be forced. To expel you."
Bianca whimpers once, then moves closer to you, "Will you... come with me, please?"
Mother When says sharply at your back, "Young man, I would suggest you go with the young Lady now. Or there will be consequences for dallying."
So, I grab Bianca's hand (belatedly, I know). We stay put. In my head, I watch us continuing to walk down the hallway, endless and freaky as it seems. I'm ready to scoop Bianca up and break for the door as soon as Mother When is out of the way, like she follows or goes away.
You can pull it off, but it will take 3 Madness to trigger this against a full-fledged Nightmare. There will be Six Pain coming your way.
Discipline: (Rolled: 3d6. Rolls: 3, 4, 1. Total: 8)
Exhaustion: (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 7)
Madness: (Rolled: 4d6. Rolls: 3, 5, 3, 4. Total: 15)
[Current "permanent" pool: Discipline 3; Exhaustion 2; Madness 0]
It also looks like Pain would dominate.... BUT, I'm going to spend one of my two Coins of Despair to add a 6 to your Madness results. So, that means Madness (6/5) dominates over Pain (6/4).
Things get more chaotic, Benny. Mark off a response box, and react accordingly.
Until you come running through one dark patch and end up in a soccer field. Your soccer field, Benny, the practice one. You recognize the feel of the grass, the position of the goals and the pair of metal bleachers to the west. The high school, your high school is just over to the right. It's night. Late. Way late. Like... midnight-ish. You'd guess, at least.
What do you do?
By the by, because I spent a Coin of Despair, you now have one Coin of Hope. You may spend one coin of hope to remove one exhaustion, or to remove a check mark from fight or flight. If you have los, or to add a 1 to your discipline pool. By "adding a 1", it means one time after rolling, before determining results, you may "add a 1" to the Discipline Pool, giving you an extra success.
Eileen is sitting on the front steps. Smoking. She hides the cig, but yeah, it's obvious she's smoking, playing on her phone or texting someone. Something.
Here's how she normally looks at school:
She's not wearing make-up right now. But she's still pretty, just little bits of acne on her left cheek. She hasn't seen you yet, but you know just walking by, she will.
Alright, I'm walking past. Waving my hand to Eileen. Playing it cool, like I've done so successfully so many times in the last 24 hours.
You come to your house, just a turn down the walk to your front door. Eileen stops, not like she's going to hound you to the front door. Her breath smells like Virginia Slims. She's wearing a hoodie, shorts and sneakers, no socks.
"Listen... I'm totally wiped, and I'm probably gonna get snagged for being out so late. But, thanks... Thanks for having my back. I don't deserve it, but, thanks." I give her a quick hug, no big deal.
I go for speed and whatever.. just getting up the stairs before anyone notices I'm home.
Discipline: (Rolled: 3d6. Rolls: 2, 6, 6. Total: 14)
Exhaustion: (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 5, 5. Total: 10)
You head into your room. What does it look like?
There's a note on your desk, hand-written, your dad careful script.
If you are reading this, but you didn't get to talk to me first, you're still grounded. One week. Home from school right after. Chores. Room. DadMy room's pretty normal, except for maybe being a little neater than most guys my age. There's a vintage Pelé poster over the desk that Heather got me for Christmas two years ago in a stunning and unexpected burst of insight. A shelf of Police Youth Club soccer trophies from elementary school and junior high. A bookshelf with school books, another full of books about films and film making. A dog-eared paperback copy of Theodor Roszak's Flicker, my favorite novel, on the nightstand, along with a signed first edition on the film shelf. A US Soccer flag draped above the bed.
I sit on the bed, wonder how I'm going to manage "home from school right after" when I seem to keep flipping back and forth to this Mad City. I hope Bianca's okay, even if she lied about who she was and was more than a little freaky.
So you're grounded, and you haven't slept in... how long? How do you pass the time? I assume you aren't going back out again, right? That would be, well, unwise.
It's been nine days now since I've slept at all, and for a few weeks before that it was just dribs and drabs. Normally I'd work on video. Editing, finding old footage on archive.org, storyboarding. Tonight I can't. I don't want to revisit the Jasmine/Bianca stuff right now. I just stare at the screen.
Finally, though, I hook the GoPro in like a webcam, set up a mic and start up my video studio software. This is not my usual thing, putting myself on camera, and I may never post this anywhere, but it seems like a good idea right now.
I click the appropriate buttons, look into the camera and begin:
"Hi. This is Benny, and I've had the weirdest day..."