The usual tense
silence as the names were read out, then clapping and laughter as the class
heard my name. I know they were only
having fun, but they just don’t understand.
My younger brother thinks it’s great. Both he and his twin, my younger sister,
can’t wait till they’re old enough to be in it.
Me? Scared fucking shitless,
that’s what.
And what’s worse, I can’t tell anyone.
I know I’m rambling and I really should edit all
this bit out, but they told us to write as we feel.
Why am I scared? And why
can’t I tell anyone? Let me explain.
The nudity bit doesn’t bother me.
We’re not exactly worried about nudity in our house and when we visit my
aunt in the summer nearly everyone goes naked.
We’re also quite a touchy family, but this is different. I always keep my feelings nicely under
control and from what I’ve seen of the Program, people who do that always have
a hard time.
But the real problem is that everyone expects me to do well in the
Program, whatever “doing well” is when it comes to the Program. Surely Joanna can’t have a problem with it.
Even our Head Teacher, Miss Robinson, couldn’t resist a comment
when all us Proggies met in her office during lesson
1. “We should have a great week with
Joanna here shouldn’t we? At least
there’s one of you who’ll have no problems, eh Joanna?”
“No, Miss.”
Stripping off was easy. As
I said, we’re pretty cool when it comes to nudity in our family. There was one girl who hesitated slightly
when it came to her knickers, but then she closed her eyes and pulled them
down. She had a slightly fixed smile
when she stood upright again, but she was okay.
Everyone was.
We still had the rest of the first lesson free, to get used to it,
not that many of us needed it.
But when the end of lesson bell rang, it seemed like half the
school was descending on us, or on me anyway.
“Reasonable Request.
Reasonable Request.”
I picked one.
“Can I lick you out?”
“That’s not a reasonable request.”
“Karin let me last week.”
“I don’t care. I’m not
going to.”
“S ‘n’ F then?”
SHIT.
Let me explain.
Vidlive One had a series on Tuesday nights in the spring,
exploring all the fetishes, one each week.
The poor proggies at the time used to watch
warily, to find out what they’d probably end up doing for the rest of their
week.
One week was on spanking.
I’m glad I wasn’t in the Program that week. It probably wasn’t really a Reasonable
Request, though amazingly nobody had appealed it even though the schools were
very strict on what they’d draw the line at.
But ever since then, S ‘n’ F, or Spank and Fondle, had been a
popular Monday activity to play with new Proggies.
So I bent over his lap, put my legs apart and waited for the
sting. He started really soft and slowly
got harder till I could really feel heat in my bum. In between he stroked my pussy lips lightly.
“Another one that likes it,” he said as he stuck his fingers into
my pussy.
He pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean noisily.
“Hmm.
Nice taste too. I really want to eat you out.”
Destiny, my best friend, said she’d appeal it if anyone did S ‘n’
F to her, but when her week came around, she didn’t.
When I teased her about that she said, “Well, at least when you’re
in the Program, if you want to say NO to something, you can appeal straight to
the top.”
Yeah, right.
Like I can do that.
I wished I could be someone else, just for this week.
Someone without
expectations to live up to.
Everyone thinks it’s
so easy for me. Yet ironically I’m probably
the only girl in the Program in the whole damned country who can’t appeal
anything.
You see, as Destiny put it, somewhat inaccurately, “after all,
your mother and aunt virtually run the fucking Program.”
Actually it isn’t true. My
mother and aunt ARE on the National Program Committee though my aunt spends
half her time globetrotting selling the idea of the Program to every country
she can that isn’t already running it.
My parents always say she’s too busy stripping the world to find
time to settle down with anyone.
Confused? Perhaps my full
name will tell you what my problem is.
It’s Joanna Peters. Means nothing
to you? Good. My mother’s name might though, as before she
became the Program safety officer she was a big shot TV presenter, and worse still,
before that, she was the first girl in Britain to complete the Program. Her name was (and for professional matters
still is) Heather Hoover.
My globetrotting aunt?
Shelley Hoover. Even my dad, Jed
Peters, was one of the first in the Program.
We actually had to read about them in Social Studies. Can you imagine how embarrassing it is to
read about your mother’s sex life in class?
No? Try it sometime and
you’ll know what I mean.
Okay, it helped me understand my mother more, but there are some
things about your parents you just don’t want to know, right? And certainly not to have dissected in Social
Studies, where everyone thought it was great to have me there, who’d surely
know it all.
I wonder if that’s partly why I stayed a virgin. Being told I could have boys or girls stay
whenever I felt ready and if I wanted sex, that was okay too, so long as I got
protection, somehow it took the fun out of it.
Beating half the boys to fight my way onto the school cricket team
was much more fun than some fooling around on the Rapid Transit. And the look on Granddad’s face when I
finally got picked was worth every hour we’d spent practising together.
They actually had to ban sex on the RT before school because too
many students were arriving at school exhausted, not to mention smelly!
But after school on
the way home, it’s like sitting in the middle of a fucking orgy. “Who needs the Program nowadays?” I asked Gran once, only to be interrupted by Auntie Shelley walking
in on our private conversation.
“You do, for one,” she said, before walking out again.
It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if Gran
hadn’t agreed with her.
One good thing.
This
boy took so long over S ‘n’ F that it was time for second lesson.
History.
“Welcome Joanna. As you’re
in the Program this week, I thought we’d study some more recent history.”
“Don’t tell me, Family History, Again.” I grimaced as I spoke.
“Not what you’re used to.
I’ve been studying old Program Education courses and found a journal
that doesn’t get studied nowadays.”
“Really?”
I hoped I didn’t sound as
bored as I felt. I sat down. Fuck.
My bum was still sore so I stood up again quicker than I sat down,
rubbing it.
“It’s not quite politically correct nowadays,” Ms. Chaucer
explained. “More and more we are
expected to focus on the successes of the Program and ignore it’s
failures. But as your mother and
particularly your aunt were involved in this story, it seemed a good time to
look at it.”
She turned back to the class.
“Who can tell me who Rosie Baines is, or was?” she quickly corrected
herself.
“Nobody?”
The silence was deafening, except for the occasional yawn.
“She was the girl we supposedly honour every Monday with that
minute’s silence.”
Now some of us were suddenly interested. Now perhaps I’d find out why it was such a
sensitive subject at home that nobody would talk about it.
“The first part,” she explained, “wasn’t written by Rosie, but by
Joanna’s aunt, Shelley Hoover. Rosie’s
journal was only discovered later and added to the record.”
I sat down, more gingerly this time. She began to read and by the end of the
lesson I was definitely interested. She
handed out copies of the study journal and told us to read it overnight and
come to the lesson tomorrow with what we’d learned from it.
I wanted to read some more during break, but no fucking Donald
**cultnote = RS for luck
because the moment I was out of class it was
“Reasonable Request”.
This time it was one
of the girls asking and she wanted to feel my boobs and finger me. She wasn’t on my list, so I said yes.
My list?
Although, in theory at least, it’s up to us
what is reasonable, a decision a few years ago meant that we had to be
non-discriminatory in our decisions. In
other words, boys who said something was reasonable for most of the girls to do
to him, had to say the same if it was a boy asking. Likewise, if I generally let boys do
something, then I had to let girls do the same.
It bothered some of the boys a bit, but us
girls generally weren’t that bothered.
It didn’t mean we had to allow everyone to do the same, I could
say yes to one person and no to another, but if we were caught consistently
saying yes to one sex and no to the other, we were in big trouble.
But I had a problem. I was
studying at home with another girl last year and we were experimenting and
fingering each other. When she fingered
me I came so hard I was incoherent, or “out of it” as she put it.
There was no way I was going to let that happen in my Program
week, so after that I listened to the gossip more than before and if anyone had
a reputation for being able to make someone cum really hard, I put him or her
on the list of people I wouldn’t allow to do me. Most were girls, but there were some boys on
the list too.
This girl wasn’t on the list, but she should have been. Her touch on my boobs was better than I
believed possible, sending little tremors right through me. When she asked if she could suck them, I
nodded without thinking.
I reached out to try to grab something to hold onto and someone
took my hand as she licked and sucked on each of my nipples, taking turns going
from one to another. God! I was close to cumming
and she hadn’t even started fingering me yet.
Thankfully, I was brought back to earth by “Ow!
Let go!” That was the girl who was
holding my hand.
I looked at her palm where my nails had dug into her. “Sorry.”
The other girl had
stopped sucking on my nipples and grinned as her fingers lightly walked down to
my pussy. I did quite a lot of swimming
and my pussy was shaved as I loved the sensation of water against my bare lips.
Now I wished they
weren’t so sensitive as she ran her fingers up and
down them. After this, I thought, she is
DEFINITELY on the list.
Then she opened me
up and ran one finger up along my entrance almost to my clit. I knew it was coming and a moment later she
eased a finger into me.
I’ve never been so
glad to hear the lesson bell and pushed her away. I got up shakily and made it to the lesson.
“You look like you
need relief,” said the teacher at once.
“Not a chance,” I
said.
“You might feel
better if you take it.”
“No,” I
snapped. “Thank you,” I added belatedly.
“Your
choice.
Take your seat.”
I was so glad it was
double maths and not for my usual reason.
Hey, it’s not a crime to like maths, okay? Dad’s an engineering consultant, to him
figures are his everyday language, and I guess I got that from him. But today it also meant safety.
A double lesson with no
Program interruptions where I could wind down.
Lunch was the usual
crap. Thinking about it, calling it crap
is a sort-of insult to faeces really.
After lunch the same
girl came up to me with a grin. “I think
we have unfinished business.”
“No,” I
replied. “You’ve had your chance.”
The trouble was, she
was followed by two girls who were definitely ON my list and I couldn’t say no to
them all, so I relented. “Hey, one more
chance, okay?”
Damn. From the look in her eye and the grin on her
face I knew she’d just taken that as a challenge.
This
time she started by gently biting a nipple while her fingers ran little races
up and down my thighs.
By the time she left
my nipples alone, a finger had found it’s way into me
and I was struggling to keep control.
I tried everything,
counting sheep – but I kept counting the movements of her fingers instead,
which made it worse – algebra equations – but who can think of the value of x
when someone is driving you crazy?
Finally I grabbed
her head and shoved it down into my pussy.
Her tongue touched me down there and…
“Are you okay?” one
of the teachers was asking. She was
looking concerned and so was the girl.
“Huh?”
“You were crying,”
said someone.
“I was?”
“When you finished
screaming,” volunteered another.
“Oh, shit.” I meant to think it, but from the laughter I
knew I’d said it out loud.
“I take it you’re
alright,” the teacher asked.
“Yeah.
I’m
alright.”
“Can I try that?”
asked one of the boys.
“No,” said the
teacher before I could answer. “Let her
come down first, or she’ll never make it to her lesson. No more requests for now.”
I looked around and
there was Destiny. “That was intense,” she
said, “especially when you made her go down on you. Are you really okay?”
“I made her?”
She nodded.
“Oh, Fuck.”
I tried to get up
and couldn’t. My legs were like jelly.
“I need the loo.”
Destiny asked one of
the boys to help me and he picked me up like I was nothing and carried me out
of the hall.
God, this gets more
embarrassing by the minute. “Have fun,
Joanna?” called someone.
He sat me on the
loo, I mumbled something like thanks, and he asked, “Will you be okay?”
I nodded, feeling
far from sure. Damn, I couldn’t even go
to the loo on my own.
The lesson bell went
and I ignored it. When the place was
empty I finally let myself cry.
Almost immediately a
naked boy pushed the door open. “What’s
wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing, I… You’re in the Program? What are you doing in the boys’ loos?”
“I, er…” he answered uncomfortably and turned away.
“Wait, don’t
go. You’ve been crying too. Why?”
“Can’t
say.”
“Why?”
“Leave me alone,
okay?” he shouted at me.
He ran out of the
room, so I washed my face and made my way to class.
My “Sorry I’m late”
was met with an amused look.
“We weren’t
expecting you on time,” laughed Mr. Grunhund, my
German teacher. “For some reason half
the class thought you’d be a while.”
“Oh, well, I
wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
“You didn’t,” yelled
one of the boys.
I sat down trying to
pretend I didn’t hear that.
Between lessons I
managed to see one of our
SAGREPs
. (Student Advisory Group REPresentative.)
“What’s up with that
new kid? I caught him crying in the
loo.” I didn’t mention that I’d been
doing the same!
“Dunno. He asked us when he came about getting an
exemption and we put him in touch with the P.O.
Haven’t heard from him since.
Why?”
(For anyone who’s been out of the country
for the last almost thirty years, a P.O. is the local Program Official.)
“Got
a feeling, that’s all.”
“What sort of
feeling?”
“That there’s a lot
more wrong than he’s willing to let on.
He really bit my head off when I asked him. Can you try?”
“You mean Edward H. Cranton actually spoke to you? You’re honoured. Two reps tried to get him to talk and he
wouldn’t even answer. Sure something’s
wrong, but he ain’t
gonna
let nobody help him.”
“What’s his last
lesson?”
He looked on his
organiser and it flashed up Gym.
“Can you get us both
out of last lesson and get him sent to the library? Then I can try again.”
“You’re worried.”
“Hmm.
And if
it’s a choice between Gym and talking to me, at least he won’t run away this
time.”
“Devious.”
“Of
course.”
“Okay. I’ll sort it with Robbie.”
Needless to say “Robbie”
(or Miss Robinson, the Head) agreed, so I found myself in the library with
Edward.
“Why
d’you
want
me here?” he asked sullenly.
“Because something’s
wrong and I want to help.”
He laughed. “Hah.
That’s a laugh.”
He turned to
go. “If you walk out of here, it’s back
to gym.
Would you
prefer that to talking?”
“Okay, I’ll
stay.” He sat down.
“Why’s it such a
laugh that I want to help?”
“Because the only
one who can is your fucking mother and her committee and they didn’t want to
know.”
I flinched at the
venom in his voice. “Why?”
“I don’t
understand. You’re not bothered by being
naked in front of me, so what’s the problem?
Is it requests? Has someone tried
to make you do things they shouldn’t?”
“Oh no,” he said
bitterly. “Nobody’s done anything they’re
not allowed to.”
“Can I touch you?”
“Is that a Request?”
“Yeah,
if it has to be.”
“I can’t stop you.”
I took his cock and
played with it, even managed to make it a little harder. “That doesn’t seem to bother you, so what’s
wrong?”
He didn’t answer,
but I could see his hands clenching and unclenching.
“Look, you’ve got to
tell someone. People have noticed you’ve
been hiding away almost every break. At
this rate you’re either going to freak out completely or fail
the Program and have to do it again.”
“Fucking
great.
I might as well bloody top myself now then.”
“Don’t talk silly.”
“What do you
know?
The perfect
Joanna.
Great
at everything.
Never has any problems.
A real credit to her mummy.
You know nothing about me, or my life.”
“No, but I did a
quick record check. If I’m perfect, I
don’t know what you’d call yourself. Top
of almost every class you're in. God,
they even use you for special tutoring kids who fall behind.”
“Fat
lot of good that did me.
Now I’m going to lose everything, because of
this fucking Program.”
“I don’t
understand.”
“Nobody does.”
“I want to. Tell me?
Please?”
We stared into each
other’s eyes for what seemed like ages, then his eyes
dropped. “I was raped,” he said quietly.
“But you’re a boy,
how?” Shit! I am stupid. “Don’t answer that, I’m just being thick.”
“Well, it wasn’t
really rape. I should have stopped
him. It was two years ago.
At Scout camp.
I woke up and one of the troop leaders was on
top of me. I was so scared I just
froze. He started putting it into me and
I tried to pretend I was still asleep.
Afterwards I went in the shower and then got ready to go home as it was
the last day. So it wasn’t really rape
but…”
“It was rape,” I
said.
“And ever since, if
a boy touches me…”
“It all comes back
and you freak out,” I finished for him.
“Surely you can get a psyche exemption.”
“Yeah,” he
agreed.
“Easily.
If I agree to see a
psychiatrist and get a formal report.”
“So why don’t…”
“My father’s a High
Court judge. I’ve already been accepted
for a law degree and probably law school.
I’ve even got a scholarship.”
“So what’s the
problem?”
“They won’t accept
students with psyche problems. They
don’t have to. Ever since insurance
companies were allowed to see A.I.D.S. test results, more and more
organisations have demanded medical reports before they accept anyone. I go there with a report that says I was so
psychiatrically ill I had to be exempted from the Program, I’m out. No second chances, that’s it.”
“Whew. I didn’t know. But that’s not right. Surely someone can do something.”
“Only the Program
Committee and they don’t want to know.”
“Hence
the crack about my mother.
But how can they help?”
“I checked the
rules. Local Program Officials can issue
exemptions, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose
so.”
“Well, there’s various grounds, including health. But if they use that one, I’m screwed.”
“So?”
“But
they can also issue exemptions on (and I quote), ‘matters to be determined by
the National Program Committee’.
The local P.O.
wrote to the Program Committee and they refused to make additional grounds.”
“Hence
why you hate my mother.”
“I don’t hate
her. I don’t even know her.”
“No. Look, don’t do anything stupid. Give me a chance to speak to her, please?”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Great.” I don’t know why but I kissed him. Then I sat on his lap and I kissed him
again. And suddenly we were just two
tongues intertwined as we explored one another’s mouths.
Finally I opened my
eyes. “Whew. That was… wow.”
“Yeah,” he
breathed. “What made you do that.”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to.”
“I’ve never…”
“You’ve never kissed
a girl?”
“Not like that.”
I giggled. “Well, after I sort this out with my Mum,
perhaps I can come round and we can practice some more.”
He grinned, the
first time I’d seen him looking happy today.
We walked out to our
clothes boxes together. I don’t think
there were any Requests or maybe we just didn’t hear them.
I made the twins
their tea, then Sammy’s phone rang. I could hear what she was saying, but she
suddenly had a huge grin on her face.
“That was my friend Karen,” she said
“So?”
“Her older sister
Kelly says you’re in the Program and you’re a screamer.”
“Joanna’s a
screamer, Joanna’s a screamer,” chanted Stevie.
“All right, That’s enough,” I
said firmly, trying to shut him up. Of course
one word from me and they did exactly as they liked. That is, they carried on yelling that I’m a
screamer. Finally they got bored.
Until they heard Mum
come in. They
both ran to her and yelled, “Mum.
Joanna’s in the Program and she’s a screamer!”
“So it’s finally
your turn?” she asked me. “How’s it
been?”
“Okay,” I said
sullenly.
She looked at me
strangely, then turned to the other two and said, “Kids. Upstairs and do your homework.
Now!”
“Aw!”
“Now!”
They ran upstairs,
but Stevie had to get the last word, “But she’s still
a screamer!” He wisely shut his door
before I could reply.
“So what’s wrong?”
asked Mum.
“Mum, Why did you refuse to let our P.O. grant an exemption
without having to give a reason?”
“It wasn’t me, it
was the Committee.”
“Come on, Mum. You can wind that Committee round your little
finger if you want to.”
“Not quite.” She seemed amused.
“It’s not funny,
Mum. Edward needs an exemption.”
“Oh, it’s him you’re
bothered about. Well, he can get one.”
“Yeah,
from a psychiatrist.
And then it’s on his record that he’s unstable
and he can’t get into university.”
“Look, it’s not our
fault universities are acting that way.
We can’t just give exemptions for anyone that asks.”
“No? He was raped, Mum? You know that? Remember what it was like?”
“I know. We were told.”
“Then how can you be so cruel?”
“Look. I was raped, and the Program helped me…”
“So if he doesn’t
react like you did, it’s tough? All rape
victims must be like my great mother.
And if they’re not, if your fucking Program destroys them, what
then?”
“He hasn’t given it
a chance really yet.”
“Why should he have
to? Why should he have to crack up just
so you can try to prove a point? You
make me sick.”
Dad had come in as I
was shouting at her, and snapped, “Don’t you talk to your mother like that?”
“Mother?
Mother?
I’ll tell you
what, I’ll remember how to talk to my mother when she
remembers what it’s like to be a human being.”
I stormed out past
my Dad and slammed the door behind me.
Then I ran nearly half the way to Edward’s house before running out of
breath and walking the rest of the way.
“Is Edward in?”
“Yes, who shall I
say?”
“Joanna!” he cried,
running down the stairs. He suddenly
went serious, “What’s up?”
“Ed, I’m sorry, she
wouldn’t listen.”
“I could have told
you she wouldn’t,” he said quietly. “The
P.O. said that she was the one on the Committee most opposed to granting an
exemption without stating a reason.”
“Why didn’t you tell
me and save me a row?”
“Sorry. I just hoped she might listen to you.”
“You had a row with
your mother about my Edward?” asked his mother.
“Yeah, for all the
good it did.”
“Well, at least you
tried. But she’s a stubborn woman. I know she means well and I know she’s your
mother, but I could wring her neck.”
“Yes. She IS my mother, isn’t she? And I’m her daughter. She’s not the only stubborn one. Can I use your phone?”
I called the SAGREP
and he gave me the number of someone on NSAC, that’s the National Student
Advisory Council. “They already know
about his case,” said Mrs. Cranton. “Their rep on the Program Committee was the
one who told us your mother was the main problem.”
“Well, I think I’ve
an idea to solve that.”
She overheard some
of what I was saying on the phone and said, “Joanna, I know you mean well, but
making his case public is worse than his getting a psyche exemption.”
“He won’t even be
mentioned,” I said. “This is all about
me.”
“I hope you know
what you’re doing.”
“Now you’ve finished
organising an answer for me, you never answered my question,” said Edward.
“What question?”
“Why you were in the
loos crying your eyes out.”
“It just got too
much.”
“Bad?”
“No,” I
laughed. “Good in a way, but I can’t
stand it.”
“Huh?”
“When I get myself
going, I just lose it.”
“So
what?”
“So I hate being
that vulnerable. I can’t bear being out
of control.”
“And someone got you
out of control today?”
“Yeah.”
I
described what she’d done. “And it
scared me shitless.
Which
is why I’ve dreaded my turn in the Program.
And what makes it worse is everyone assumes
I’ll have no problems with the Program.”
“Because of who you are.”
“Because of who my mother is, yeah.
Can you imagine? Probably the
only fucking virgin in our year, and my mother runs
the bloody Program.”
"Shouldn't that
be 'non-fucking virgin'?" he asked sullenly.
I couldn't keep from
giggling at his deadpan expression and a second later neither could he.
Deadpan came back,
though, when he reminded me,
"Not the only one," but then, before I could reply, he
added, "I have a Reasonable Request."
“We’re NOT in
school.”
“Is that a ‘No’?”
“No. What’s the Request?”
“I want to do what
she did. I won’t be as good.”
“Okay.”
“Really?”
“Do it before I
change my mind and chicken out.”
He undressed me,
deliberately taking his time. Then we
kissed again, and it was better than in the library.
“You’ll have to tell
me what you like,” he said.
He stroked my
shoulders and I wanted to melt into him.
Then my boobs.
“You can be a bit
harder than that,” I said.
He swirled his
tongue around my nipples while his hand began to stroke my pussy.
He licked lower and
lower, then before he quite got to my pussy, he looked
up at me and asked, “You trust me?”
“I trust you,” I
said without the slightest hesitation.
The look in his eyes told me all I needed to know.
And he slipped his
tongue into me. At first it was just
wonderful, I felt a warm glow spreading thorough my body, then he moved
slightly and “Oh, fuck!” I cried and from it felt like a thousand miles away, I
heard myself screaming.
Then I was screaming
at him, “Fuck me, Fuck me, Fuck me.”
And he was sitting
at me side, stroking my hair with one hand and holding my hand with the other.
“I see why you’re
scared to lose control,” he said, seriously.
“You didn’t fuck
me,” I stated.
“Would you have
wanted to lose it like that?
Without even really knowing?”
“You didn’t want
me,” I said.
He stood up. “Does this look like I didn’t want you?”
“Oh, Fuck. I did that?”
“Well I don’t see
any other incredible gorgeous girl in this room.”
“I’m not gorgeous.”
“You’re incredible,”
he argued. “And that’s before I saw you
like that. And then I just wanted you so
much.”
“But you
didn’t. That’s amazing. Why?”
“I said you could
trust me. And I just wanted to hold you
safe and not let anything happen to you.”
“I think our friend
here needs some help though,” I said, taking hold of his cock.
I took him in my
mouth and he was so on edge I was choking on his cum before I knew what was
happening.
“Sorry,” he
cried. “I came so fast I couldn’t warn
you.”
“It’s okay,” I
gasped. “I guess I did get you worked
up, didn’t I?”
“Just
a bit.
Look try to stick
close to me tomorrow and I’ll stop anyone going too far.”
“Thanks.” I saw the
digits on his video.
Past
my curfew time for school nights.
“I’ve gotta get home.”
“Want a lift?”
“No. I want to walk.”
I got dressed and
walked home, more than a little confused.
I’d thought I have to support him and it turned out he was helping me.
Mum was waiting for
me when I got home. The twins had gone
to bed, thank god.
“You think I’m
heartless,” Mum stated.
“No, I think you’re
wrong.
Badly wrong.
Why can’t you let a P.O. make a decision?”
“Give them carte
blanche? That could ruin the Program, we’d have different standards being adopted in
every area. We have to keep control in
the Committee, where it was intended.”
“That’s it. Oh my God.
I finally understand.” I was
almost dancing with excitement.
My mother tried not
to laugh. “Understand what?”
“That’s what this is
all about. He was raped two years
ago. How long did it take you to get
over being raped?
Really
over it?”
“I don’t know. Four or five years, something like that.”
“You’re wrong,
Mum. You still haven’t. And you’ve passed it on to me. That’s why I’ve been so scared of the
Program.”
“Scared?”
“Shit scared, Mum,
only everyone thought I’d have no problems so I didn’t dare tell anyone, even
you. But I was scared of being out of
control, scared of being vulnerable. And
I wonder who I got that from? It
certainly wasn’t Dad.”
Mum blanched.
“Well, I’ve news for
you, Mum. Tomorrow things are really gonna get out of control, I promise you. Now I’m going to bed.”
And I walked
upstairs feeling like the world had been taken off my shoulders and to my own
surprise, went straight to sleep.