This, Is My Story

This, Is My Story: Part 4

The day ends and I walk to my uncle's house, my uncle is the type of person to have too much money to care about much. He's a crude humor type of man whom loves to indulging the little satisfaction of life called Materials. I am allowed to do whatever i wish in his summer house except for Sundays, because 'Sundays are the Lord's days' although we aren't at all religious. The house itself is considered a mansion constructed in 2009 under top security 24/7, 15 rooms, 5 stories tall, large rooms,with a backyard that is more like a valley than a backyard. The house is guarded by a metal gate, the butler resides there, always clean, always presentable, flawless. The butler, Rick is more like a regular member of the family rather than one to wait on you hand and foot.

I drop by and ask him if he has any condoms, he goes to the bathroom storage closet and hands we a box, asking me why I need them, rather than being a teenager, I tell Rick the truth, because I trust him. His advice is the advice of a God, he is never a parents or a child about any situation. My advice is that if i were to record that I'd be to illegal the lawyers could sense it halfway across the earth, there were very few loopholes to the situation but I could be extremely careful and only show people, their word against mine.

At that my heart sinks, I don't need a record especially with me being under the age of consent, as my mind fills with every possible way this could go wrong Ricks face turns worrysome. He plants a kiss on my forehead and walks away, more like sashay's away  into a room farther down the hall, his homosexuality is not something that can be hidden easily, which makes him more adorable.

The Doorbell rings and my heart skips a beat, the intercom comes on and in a few minutes I hear Rick yell out " Josh's here" I yell at him to let him in. I hear the gate door buzz open. I instantly run upstairs into my closet and throw on a band t-shirt and shorts. I throw the box of condoms on the bed disregarding how desperate that might look.

I walk out onto my balcony and just stare out to the backyard valley as if i just hadn't nearly busted my ass trying to peel off the skinny jeans I had on that left all types of weird indented lines on my legs. Roxy, Jean, and Teeny, the dogs start barking and growling quite loudly. I notice a butterfly fluttering around there I'm standing, I'd remembered when i was a little girl my teacher once said if i ever spotted a butterfly to try to stick out my finger to have it land on it. I then trace the path to which the butterfly is flying pressing myself closer and closer to the balcony railing