Group Sex Home

Chapter 1

The sky was cloudy and downcast. Perfect. I was almost home, walking from school, so close I could see it. Please, I thought, please don't start raining.

I suppose the universe thought it was being funny. I got two feet away from the porch steps, and it started pouring buckets. I tried to do a big leap-step to get to the bottom step and out of the rain, but my boot slipped on the grass and I smacked my head on the step. I stumbled up the stairs, soaking wet with my head throbbing.

I clomped into the room, my long black hair slicked to my forehead, my leather boots muddy. Mom and Dad were huddled together on the couch, whispering frantically. Dad had bags under his eyes that I hadn't noticed this morning; Mom was crying silently.

"What's wrong?" I asked, alarmed. I let my backpack hit the floor.

Dad stood up and cleared his throat, "Adeline, you have to understand that anything we do for you, we do for the greater good and for our-" he was cut off by Mom leaping off the couch and flinging herself into my arms.

"Oh, Adeline!" she sobbed, "My baby! So young, so young!" I awkwardly patted her back, unsure of how to calm her.

Dad pried her off me and she wailed, defeated, on the couch.

"Adeline..." he continued, "... We sold you."

"WHAT?" I screamed, "No, to who? Why? Why could you- how could you-" I spluttered.

"Now, Adeline, the deal's done. There's no reason for you to make this harder for your mother and I," he said calmly, a shadow of panic flickering beneath his cool demeanor.

"As if you give a damn!" I yelled, "As if either of you give a damn about me! You wouldn't have sold me if you did!"

"Please go pack," he said, plainly avoiding my eyes.

"Fuck you!" I yelled as I stomped up the stairs, "Fuck both of you." Mom sobbed harded. I felt no regret. Serves her right, selling me like one of her stupid secondhand quilts.

I slammed my bedroom door behind me and packed all of my things. I didn't bother to organize it, which was unlike me, instead I threw it all into duffel bags and suitcases pell-mell, simply trying to fit as many things into as few bags as possible. Lingerie, my clothes, only a few pairs of shoes. My phone, obviously. My makeup, and my other toiletries like shampoo and conditioner. My favorite books: Twilight, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, The Hunger Games, and Divergent to name a few. Notebooks, laptops, and anything else that I saw that I would want in My New Life, which I had already deemed a proper noun. My stuff fit into two suitcases and three duffel bags. Not bad. But in the end, I ended up stuffing a blanket into an entire backpack with savage pleasure. I planned to make whoever was here to collect me hold my bags, which I wanted there to be as many of as possible.

When I was done, there wasn't much to say goodbye to. My iron bed frame and mattress. My dresser.

"Bye, dresser," I said dryly, before leaving my bedroom and slamming the door.

When I got down the stairs, there was just my father. I could hear my mother blubbering in the room down the hallway. My father leaned in for a hug, but I ducked under his arm with an uncharacteristic giggle.

"As if. I suppose my captors are waiting outside?"

He furrowed his brow and turned his back to me.

"Yes. They'll be waiting. They got here just a moment ago," he replied softly.

I took my bags out and slammed the front door as hard as I could behind me. Big mistake. All of the water droplets on the top of the porch awning sprinkled down on my head. I huffed, stomped down the steps, and almost fell again because of what I saw.