The Playboy's Misfortune

15: Storytime

And she said, "No, no, a million times no
You know I'd rather die than see you lettin' me go"

~-~-~

"I was first adopted at seven or six 'cause I was the prettiest kid there. My first um... 'Parents'... weren't too bad. They didn't have other children and they lived in a cozy house. They sent me to school and we did normal family things together... But... around two years later... the car crashed. They died and I made out alive. Actually, I would have preferred myself be killed because they were expecting their first child... And we were on our way from the hospital... Well, that's just the first one."

Chelsea's eyes grew wide and her fingers froze while grazing my stubble. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that." She kissed my face a couple of times, "God Leo... You must have felt so terrible-"

"It doesn't matter. People die all the time. I didn't feel guilty but I was taken back to that crappy orphanage. Sister Margaret tried to get me adopted again but for two years nobody came. It was peaceful."

"You just say that..." She mumbled and pressed her palm against my chest, it almost looked like an attempt to keep my heart warm.

"The next 'parent' was a woman of thirty. She was very rich and treated me like a prince. It was a good life for a month or so, till some burglar raped and killed her."

Chelsea gasped. It wasn't surprising though, anyone who listened to the dark string of coincidences of my life would feel miserable.

"The last one was a couple of years later when I was 14. A family took me in but they already had two kids and it didn't make sense why they wanted me until I understood their situation. They were very poor and the lady had a very old father. He was a terrible cranky man and he lived in a house adjacent to theirs," I sighed.

"The family made me stay with the old man to take care of him. He was fucking disgusting and abusive. He would get drunk and yell terrible things, I didn't give a shit about what he said but he often tried to touch me. That man was a sick pedophile. One day I completely lost it and pushed him down the stairs. He broke his neck and died. When the cops came, I told them that he fell by accident. They believed me but the family didn't. They kept saying that I murdered him and I was sent back to the orphanage."

"Sister Margaret was sure that I was 'cursed by the devil' because terrible things happened to all the families I got involved with. By now I hated her and I made sure that she knew. Thus, everyone quietly began praying for the day I turn 18."

When I paused, Chelsea wrapped her arms around me. Her hold was terribly strong and I found it hard to breathe. "Let go," I growled but she didn't listen. My wife nuzzled into my neck, "I love you so much, Leo. It makes sense why you ended up like this... I'm so sorry... You're so brave..."

"That old man used to call me Leo... That's why I hate it... So much..." I muttered.

"I didn't realize that... I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, Chelsea." I pulled back, "You do it too many times in a day." My lips brushed against hers, "Why would you even want to know so much about me?"

"Because I care about you... I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

"I'll make sure to die early then-" I replied and she smacked my chest.

"Don't say such things!"

"Whatever," I sighed.

"Now, ask me something," she smiled.