Darkforum.com - Dark Stories, Dark Art, Poetry, Photography, Debates and Discussions
Home Register FAQ
Go Back   Darkforum.com - Dark Stories, Dark Art, Poetry, Photography, Debates and Discussions > DarkForum Journals > Untamed's Blog
Reload this Page Story of a Girl
Untamed's Blog Blog Tools Rate This Blog
Creation Date: 10-17-07 02:15
Untamed is Offline
New Blood
rss2
Blog Info
Status: Public
Entries: 1
Comments: 0
Views: 681

In Main Category Story of a Girl Entry Tools Rate This Entry
  #1 New 10-18-07 00:03
This is a story about a girl. Itís not some huge and interesting story it is just her story, nothing special but here it goesÖ



She was young, not necessarily innocent, because really who is? They say everyone starts out innocent and some have it longer than others. I guess I am one of the unlucky ones who donít have it for long. I was only eleven, maybe twelve, when I started hanging out with some of the ďolder kidsĒ who seemed to be so much more interesting than anyone else I knew. They seemed to have all of the answers, they seemed to know all the fun and cool things to do. Itís not like it was one of those things where you wanted to be ďcoolĒ it was just curiosity and boredom.



At twelve boys start looking cute. So when I started hanging out with this really cute sixteen year old boy I didnít think anything bad of it. He said he liked me I said I liked him, totally innocent right? Well the more you hang out with a person the more you start to do the things they do. First it started with silly small things, like kissing, not making out with each others tongues down our throat, just kissing. We werenít really ďboyfriendĒ and ďgirlfriendĒ it was just something we did for fun. I wanted to try these things.



Well the longer I knew him the more often I started hanging out with him and his friends. He and his friends were into all the ďcoolĒ things like smoking, drinking, pill popping and all that. Well at first I of course only knowing what adults and teachers have told me to say, said no. It wasnít pushed on me, no was enough for them they didnít care, more for them right? But like they say curiosity killed the cat, and I got curious. I started out trying different kinds of drinks. At first I didnít like them because they tasted disgusting but I liked the effects. Next came trying different kinds of pills, they have all sort out there! They have pills that make you tired, they have pills that make you feel happy, sad, or even nothing. They have pills that will make you chill or pills that will hype you up. You got an even better experience when you mixed it with alcohol. One thing I never thought I would try was smoking. I donít mean cigarettes, or even marijuana, what he liked was speed. He liked stuff that kept him up and ďtripping.Ē



By then I started noticing that certain things he did felt good. It felt good to kiss, it felt good when his hand went up my shirts, and it felt even better when they went down my pants. It wasnít forced, I wanted it, I liked it. I knew about sex. We had sex ed in school, I had ďthe talkĒ with my mom, I knew what it was, but I didnít know what it felt like. But I did know that it was supposed to hurt the first time, maybe even make you bleed. That scared me and made me not want to. He was ok with that, he didnít mind. He wanted it but he was willing to wait.



I started partying a lot more with guys his age. I use to just hang out with him and his friends but then I got more comfortable ďchillingĒ with his friends and they all seemed to be having a good time so I figured I should have a good time too. Teachers and adults always tell you that the things I was doing were bad things to do, they did bad things to you, they made you make bad decisions. I didnít see anything bad about it.



I hadnít smoked speed exactly yet. I had gotten contact and had been ďshot gunnedĒ but I hadnít actually done it myself. The first time I did it myself, the first time I smoked it out of a pipe was the night I did the big first, my first time.



It was just me and him. It was like that a lot. His parents had no rules for him. He could have people come and go as they please and what happened in the room was his business, they didnít bug him. So as usual we were just sitting around, hanging out, me with a bottle in my hand him playing his guitar. He put his guitar down and lit the pipe. Itís not the first time he has done that with me around. Every time he does he always offers me some and I always say no. But not today. Today when he offered and expected me to say no I said yes. He handed me the pipe and told me what to do. I loved it. I wouldnít shut up though. I never talked about my feelings, yet everything just spilled out. It felt good.



For some reason I wanted more pleasure. Not the kind of pleasure you could get from talking though. I was laying on the bed staring at the ceiling. He was back to playing his guitar. I told him to come over to me and he did. He probably figured I just wanted to make out or something but I pulled him on top of me and I started to kiss him and then his neck. I wanted it. I didnít want him I just wanted it. I unzipped his pants and thatís when he knew what I wanted. He got up and said, ďItís going to hurtĒ and I just remember showing him my arm and saying I like pain or something like that.



He got back on top of me and before I knew it we were naked. I was a little nervous and scared before he did it and it did hurt, a lot. Him thrusting didnít help. He asked me if I wanted him to stop. He told me it would get better so I kept going and it did get better, a lot better. I liked it. I didnít cum until I got on top. It felt good. Better than drinking, better than speed, better than talking about how I felt. It felt really good.



And so it happened. I had sex for the first time and had ice cream after and we were still good friends. We didnít go around telling people we just let it be. If one of us wanted to fuck then we did. We didnít do it very often. As good as the sex felt it didnít feel right. But as I got older and did more things more often I started not to care. I didnít go around fucking every guy I say. I only fucked him and that was every now and then. It was more of a stress reliever you could say. Other guys would try to get with me and even though I wasnít his girl, and I had no desire to be his, or anyone elseís, ďgirlĒ he protected me you could say. He watched my back. When I did get a boyfriend, they didnít like each other. I never had sex with my boyfriend. Occasionally I would with my friend, the one I had lost it to.



I couldnít stick with a guy for long because I would cheat. I never had sex with other guys, I just fooled around a lot. Making out, sucking dick, eating out those sorts of things. I was drinking everyday, smoking a lot, not everyday but often, I tried any drug that was in front of me. I took any pill that was given to me. I went to so many parties, half the time not remembering how I got home. I started cutting more and getting more depressed then doing more drugs and drinking a lot more.



The boy I had lost it to was a great guy. He use to be anyways. Then he started to change. He became more angry all the time. He started injecting things rather than smoking them, which I tried but didnít like. He started doing heroin which made him even more angry at the whole world. He was drinking so heavily that if you cleaned his room one day, by the next day the floor was littered with empty bottles again.



If began with yelling. First he got mad at little things then went off and played guitar, or drank another bottle anything to calm him down. The first time he ever got physical was when he was mad that his drink fell over. He smashed his guitar into the wall and got so mad at himself over that. He punched the guy sitting next to him who stood up and got in his face, then backed down and left. I stayed. He yelled and I listened. I was trying to be there for him. Trying to calm him down. He knocked over his dresser and I went to touch his arm and he grabbed my arm and threw me down on the floor. I hit my head. It hurt. He stopped yelling and looked at me. I did nothing but stand up and get on the bed and go to sleep. When I woke up he had picked up his dresser and he was sitting on the floor, staring at the wall. I got up and sat next to him. He said sorry and I said for what and he looked away. He was sorry too, until the next time he would do it. If any little thing pissed him off and he didnít have and drugs or alcohol he would get violent.



I came home with black eyes, swollen noses, bruises. Nobody noticed so I figured why should I? I didnít care about myself. Sometimes I defended myself and hit back, which made things worse, and sometimes I just let it happen. I didnít cry. I didnít flinch. I grabbed a bottle or a pipe. Ten everything was alright again. In my head it was alright anyways.



I got pregnant once while I was with him. I was scared. I told him that I think I might be and he got angry, very angry. He threw a bottle at me but missed. Then I got angry. I called names. But I didnít cuss. I donít remember what I said to him but it made him mad, very mad. He just walked up to me, looked me straight in the eyes, and with all of his force slammed his first into my stomach. I was out. I couldnít get up, I couldnít walk, I couldnít breath. But I wasnít pregnant anymore. He told me it was for the best, and I believed him.



I didnít understand why things had to be like this, I just accepted it. Things just basically went on like this until I moved. I still hung out with him for a while because I didnít know anyone else. I didnít know where to get my precious drinks and I didnít know where to get my drugs. Once I started meeting new people and getting to know people who could get me what I want I lost connection with him. I didnít return phone calls. I wasnít home if he came by. I think he got the hint because he stopped calling and stopped coming over.



Things didnít get better once I left him though. I traded one misery for another. I could have changed, I could have gone clean, started out new. But I didnít. I still drank almost everyday. I still did speed on a regular basis. Life was the same, exept I wasnít getting hit. I wasnít letting myself get hit. For some reason I felt stronger, for a little while that is. This guy I was seeing, well one of them, he wanted me to fuck him but I didnít want to and I was very drunk. We were at a friends house. Luckily she had my back that day, I havenít been so lucky other days. Anyways, he wanted it and I didnít. He was willing to take it. I was to drunk to fight him off really, but I tried. But my friend had a feeling something was not right and came into the room and kicked the guy out. He hadnít even undone my pants completely yet. She looked at me and asked if I was ok and I just rolled over and passed out.



This is how it was. I drank and got high. I started smoking marijuana more often than I did speed for a while then other times it was the other way around, it depended on my mood. But I drank, I drank a lot. I started getting fucked up with people who didnít give to shits about me, but I didnít give to shits about me either. I was depressed all the time. I cut a lot. Nothing mattered to me really. I seemed happy, but I wasnít.



There was a guy I drank with a lot. Almost every time I got drunk enough to where I couldnít even stand up he took advantage of that. I didnít want it, but I couldnít fight him off. I kept drinking with him thought thinking nothing would happen this time. Sometimes nothing did happen other times something did. I felt like such a whore. I was a whore. I was a stupid whore who could do nothing right and nobody cared about and nobody loved. So I drank more and I cut more and I smoked more. That never made things better, it just made things go away.



In one night my entire life changed. My friend invited me to the mall because it was her friends birthday. I knew her and two of the other people who were going but not the guy whose birthday it actually was. I knew who he was, I had seen him before with some of my friends, but I had never talked to him. We all went to the mall. Him and I got along fine. I thought he was cute, so did my friend, so I told her she could go for it I would back off. I just wanted to fuck him, she wanted to be his girlfriend.



He is one of the only guys who if he said lets go fuck, I would. Not only because he was cute, but there was something about him. That night we got high off of weed. We went to the mall and stole all sorts of shit. I told the guy whose birthday it was that I would give him a blowjob for his birthday. I made out with him that day. I figured he thought I was a whore, I wouldnít blame him, and I didnít think we would really hang out much after that. I did get a crush on him that night but my friend had been having a crush on him for a while so I didnít try and get with him. She didnít mind me making out with him, she thought it was hot and her and I made out after that anyways.



The next day something unexpected happened. He showed up at my door. He asked if I wanted to go hang out and I said yes and we did. I first thought that maybe he only wanted me because he thought I was easy. But after spending the day with him I knew he was a great guy and he really did want to be my friend, no strings attached. That day was his actual birthday, the day before he just celebrated with friends and on his actual birthday he spent it with me. I thought that was really cool. Him and I became inseparable. I had such a huge crush on him but I didnít think he liked me back. I couldnít resist him thought I wanted him so bad. Soon we became friends with benefits.



I cut back a lot on my ďbad habits.Ē I was spending a lot of time with this guy then anything else. I didnít realize it at the time but I loved him. I would do anything for him. I just didnít feel the need to drink as much or go out as much. I was still doing a lot of things. Just not nearly as much because he made me feel good. That made me not want to do it really. I still did though. Old habits are hard to break.



We were together every single day. I didnít think he liked me in ďthatĒ way. We were friends with benefits, but we didnít have sex. Not yet anyways. One night I was making him watch Spice World and he just turned to me and said, ďyou want to have sex?Ē and I did so we did. He asked me out the next week because he wanted me to himself.



He actually wanted me as a girlfriend. I was amazed. He was afraid I might cheat on him. To tell you the truth I knew I never would. He was to wonderful to cheat on. He told me to stop cutting, I did. He told me to stop drinking I did. He told me nothing but weed, all I smoke is weed. There are a few bumps in the road to those things but its hard to stop just cold turkey, but I never went behind his back to do anything.



He gets hurt about my past. He lost it to me. I wish I lost it to him. He hates when I flinch when he gets up. I hate that I flinch when he gets up. He hates that another guy has touch me. I hate that another guy has touched me. He hates a lot of things that I have done, I hate a lot of things that I have done. But he loves me. He loves me no matter what. He loves me no matter what I have done and no matter what I will do. What I have done in the past is just that, in the past. Im his now, nobody elseís and that is how it will be forever.



We all have regrets and things we want to change. But if life always went good and well, then the good things in your life may not seem as good as they really are. Things change, people change. We canít all be innocent forever.
Views: 116



Powered by vBlogetin 1.0rc1
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.1
Copyright ©2000 - 2018, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
vBulletin Skin developed by: vBStyles.com

© 2006 - 2016 Dark Forum | About Dark Forum | Advertisers | Investors | Legal | A member of the Crowdgather Forum Community