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Chapter or Story
Chapter 10
Love is a funny thing. It has so many different types, and yet each one is just a pure and all consuming as the next. Puppy love, friend love, maternal love, paternal love, intellectual love, passionate love. Each type, when done right, takes up as much space that each person can spare, until they literally become victims of love, living hosts that house the overpowering feelings of affection and adoration.
And lust. Let's not forget lust.
My relationship with Miss Parker started out when she was still Morganna--before Mr. Parker sent her away from me, 'protecting' his little girl from the big bad labrat. I didn't love her at first. When I first saw her, through that glass, all I could feel was relief.
I'd finally have some contact with the much rumored but never encountered "female sex." Those elusive beasts I'd only seen in simulations. And of course with Mom...but were mom's girls? That was a very disturbing thought; that my mother had once been something like the little girl standing in front of me with her hand against the glass. The concept of the them being the same species bothered me for some days.
But Morganna...wow. She was pretty, and when I finally got to speak to her, I discovered she was smart as well. Not as deeply intellectual as the doctors who surrounded me (a fantastic change of pace, in my opinion), but easily as smart as I was (she had real potential as a pretender if they would only train her), and loaded down with common sense and street smarts, and enough information about the outside world to keep me busy for an eternity with daydreams and unauthorized SIMS.
She got me in trouble. Grasping my hand, and looking at me with pretty blue eyes, she manipulated me into going on adventures with me. We snuck out of the labs through the ventilation system and went off to peer into board meetings, examine the pictures in Raines's medical books with disgust at the cancer blobs and disfigured livers, and slipped inside the cafeteria to grab slices of cake and bottles of what she later told me was soda. I knew, of course, that what we were doing was very wrong and bad in the eyes of the Centre, and I feared them finding out and punishing me...
But whenever we got caught, and Sydney would look sternly at me and speak with disappointed words, all I heard was Morganna's tinkling laughter, and all I saw were those blue eyes with the long sooty lashes.
I loved her when I was 12, and I told her when I was 15. She smiled at me, repeated the words with adoration and feeling in her voice, then snuggled up to me and shared a box of Angelo's Cracker Jacks. I doubted I could be happier, and even entertained the idea of staying in this lab forever with her head on my chest and her sweet kisses on my lips.
And then the sweepers came.
They dragged us apart, forcing me to the ground and holding me down. Two of them grabbed Morganna, grabbing her arms and twisting them behind her back. She struggled vainly, and I tasted blood, watching her fight with the warmth in my mouth trickling down my throat.
"Now now, Angel." Mr. Parker walked in, his big meaty hands folded neatly in front of him, Raines trailing behind him. She looked at him and her eyes went wide in fear, though I couldn't be sure if she was more afraid of Parker of Raines. The sweepers let go of her, and she rose on unsteady legs, her hair falling in front of her eyes.
"Daddy, what-" She was cut off by his fist making contact with the side of her face, the force of the impact knocking her to the ground in a heap. The sweeper's guns cut into my back with the force of my struggling.
"Angel, I'm disappointed in you!" She didn't answer, but sat still, clutching the side of her face in pain. Waiting a moment to see if he was going to say something more, she gathered her courage and responded.
"But Daddy... I love him-"
A swift kick to her ribs stopped those claims and her voice. She let out a raspy breath and coughed hoarsely, her hair falling down once more to shield her face.
And with this last bit of violence, I lost it.
I saw red--the red of Morganna's blood, the red of Mr. Parker's tie, the red of the toy surprise wrapper from the Cracker Jack box. I bit at the Sweepers holding me, forcing them off and lunging at Mr. Parker.
I didn't care that I was 15 and scrawny, didn't care that Mr. Parker had a good 100 pounds on me and over a foot in height, didn't care that the Sweepers would pound my face to a bloody pulp for this attack. Morganna was bleeding, and everything else became insignificant.
I managed to get my hands around his throat and squeeze with all my might for a bare second before they pulled me off and slammed me back to the ground, whamming my head against the cold floor. Consciousness quickly disappearing and the taste of blood filling my mouth, I focused solely on the look of adoration in Morganna's eyes; the love she held for me.
It was the memory of that look that kept me sane for the next 15 years of my life.
It kept me from dying when she left for boarding school.
It kept me from killing myself when she returned and didn't know me anymore.
It kept me from murder when she walked past me in the hall and I could smell the fresh sex on her.
Those two clear blue eyes, filled with tears and love were the reason I gathered enough courage to escape the Centre. The knowledge that while I was in there I would never get a chance to see those eyes look at me like that again forced me to rebel and go out into the world.
I was determined to become as independent as she had been; to hurt her as much as she had me the first time I had smelled her without her virginity intact. I went through Nia, Zoe, Rachel; each time making sure that Sydney, and therefore Parker, knew of my conquests.
As I used them to hurt her, I also gathered experience. My rational side knew and still does know that Miss Parker is every straight man's wet dream, and that since she had probably fucked a great deal of them, inexperience would not be the best thing to bring to the bed the first time we were together. I used my lovers as practice for the main event; something which even now sends a pang of deep guilt through me, but not deep enough to make me abandon my quest of turning all this unresolved tension into sexual activity. Nothing would ever cut that deeply. Not something that I would do, not something that she would do; nothing.
I discovered, less than an hour ago, that Mr. Parker is dead--murdered.
And since I haven't been inside the Centre in over two years, I'll give you three guesses who is responsible.
This is another one of those secrets that I will take with me to the grave. This falls into line with her first name, her affection for Broots, Sydney, and Angelo, and the drink she offered to share with me when Thomas died. Mind you, this seems like a bigger secret, but in the matter of trust, this is just as important as the others and just as strongly guarded.
I discovered an hour ago that Mr. Parker is dead, murdered by Miss Parker.
Catherine has been avenged, Bobby's been given his pound of flesh, Morganna will be allowed to sleep the sleep of the free, and Thomas's ghost will be allowed to rest.
And after I tuck Morganna into bed, so can I.
Which is my reason for being outside her house at 3 in the morning, on my knees by her backdoor, picking the lock.
