The Lost Hope of Hope Chapter 1: My bully

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Chapter one: My bully

I am on my cell phone in bed looking at some well “Private” pictures of a woman on a website a mate at school showed me today. The pictures were supposed to make me “hard and horny” as my buddy put it but I just felt wrong and dishonest looking at a woman in that way. I mean yes, she was fit, dark and attractive with not split ends and jet-black hair which sat just below her neck bone but the feeling was still there. I also took note of her skimpy bra made of silk lace, the with her thong small and skimpy. I was fascinated by the woman’s from through, she was thin, curvy and sexy in a non-sexy so of way. If you understand what I mean. I just not take my eye away from her. It was also so evident it had been photoshopped, her body proportions were out of whack. Her head was smaller than it should also her hands which were on her breasts were too big and stretched.
As I laid there my sister knocked my door and entered my room I locked my phone as not to let her see what website I was one. “What’s up Sis?” I ask as she approved my bed.
“just want to know whether you will join us, we going to a local bonfire celebration. They will have a long firework display.” She responded all happy and bubbly.
“If you insist, I don’t understand why the celebrate Guy Fawkes Night. Wasn’t he an evil man? Didn’t he try to blow up the house of parliament and kill the king?” I ask inquisitively.
“yes, he was, but he was caught, and the public celebrated the king’s survival and the arrest of Guy Fawkes.” mom said in her soft tone as she stood in the doorway. “now come or we will miss the display.”
I must admit it was interesting to observe a long-standing British tradition. From what I know of British history Brits have had a lot of experience with dealing with terrorists, I mean from Guy Fawkes to the IRA all were some form of terrorists which the Brits managed to defeat. America could and do learn a lot from them even if we did win once against them. The Brits win almost all that time. I guess my current home proves the special relationship between the UK and the States. I live on an RAF base in the UK which I run by the USAF I know my dad’s a marine, but he is assigned to a joint squadron based here in the UK. I am not sure what he does though as he can’t say. I thought to myself as I walk down stairs to the front door.
“were your old trainers as it will be muddy,” mom tells us. As I put on my blue and black thick winter jacket as it is a chilly 50° outside. God, I hate mud especially wet and fresh. It had rained about 4 hours ago. I do as told and put on my old Nike’s which were nothing special just black but comfortable.
“why are you still so happy about going Kat,” I ask
“who cares about a little mud Grumps” Kathryn responded with a grin “anyway I would like to see the fireworks so can we get a move on already.”
“let’s move out” my dad announced. With that, we piled out to the cold and into that new Left wheel drive land rover dad brought when we moved here a year ago. It had already lost its new car smell. As dad pulls out the dive and sets off to the field which is having the display I can’t stop thinking about the website I was on. Why didn’t I “get hard” is there something wrong with me or my privates. I am smaller than most of my class even including the girls. That is a point of my regular bully Tommy Davies.
My thoughts turn to him and how much he picks on me is beyond a joke now. He call a sissy poof, faggot and a disgrace to all military brats let alone humanity. I have do nothing to him at all, I have even tried to be a friend. But to no avail. God forbid I say or stand up for myself as his mom is major. I could land my dad in hot shit for picking on a major’s son as my dad is only a staff sergeant, and as tommy would deny any wrong doing. Everyone including my dad would trust his word against mine. You see your parents rank generally extends to the family when It comes to disputes on base and between military families. But soon he will be ship home, as his mom is being based some in the states, but I am not sure were. Kat knows I get bullied and keep asking who it is, but I have not told her as it would achieve nothing.
As we approached the display, the car park was packed with cars parked less then a foot of clearance between them. Which made getting out the car hard as you could not open the door fully. Dad parked about 800 yards from the entrance gate; He just missed a big muddy puddle as he did so. We carefully piled out the car as ordered by mom.
“Kid stay close to me and dad now, no running off. You may get lost.” Warned mom as she took dad hand as we made track towards the gate.
Dad had bought our tickets online a few weeks ago after Kat came home after school and would not shut up about it. Her friend Denise had told all about the local display and the history behind it all. To say she was hooked wasn’t an overstatement. After we passed the gate there was a mini far with bummer cars, air rifle stall and food vans. All of which had a line of at least 25 people each. Some way more packed such as the air rifle stand with like 200 people just standing in it line. There another thing the Brits are good at is lining up for everything.
“Lucky we eat dinner before we came” commented dad all of us nodding in agreement.
“But can I still get some cotton candy please” begged Kat jumping up and down like a spring.
“Ok yes you can get some cotton candy” mom said to Kat’s delight. “take your brother. just no running off. ok?”
“awesome, come on harry” Kat almost screamed as she pulled harry to the stall which was selling cotton candy.
By now I could really feel the cold but the skies were clear as they could be when being lit by the mood and stars. The atmosphere was one of excitement and joy all the other kids around us were like Kay all happy and smiles. I just felt overwhelmed and like everyone was mocking me or laughing at me. I so want to curl into a tiny little ball smaller than an atom. Kat had this annoying thing for being able to sense stuff was wrong, that how she found out I was being bulled at school that and the bruises on my left upper arm.
“what up grumps” Kat asked was we move through the line, just 3 more people a head of us. “you seemed more down then normal.”
“nothing really. I just feel like I am being watched that all.” I haft lied and she know it but did not push any further. The candy cost £2 and about 30 min of our time. We made our way to mom and dad trying to push through the growing crowed. The fireworks would start in 20min and the bon fire was already lit. So, the four of us made our way to a good clear spot and ready for the display.
Kat was right that display was long and it was cool. With all the different colors and types of fireworks. It must have been expensive to put on. Just the ticket price told us it was expensive.
After the display, we made us was to the gate and the car. Once we were in dad pulled out and made tracks home. The short journey was filled with Kat telling all how good she found it.
“so, what do you like Harry” Kat asked joyfully
“I liked the colors and types of fireworks” I responded.
“right kids when we get home straight up and ready for bed then a quick cup of coco before bed” mom informed us as dad pulled in to the drive. I not like much in this world but I do like hot coco.
I got my batman PJ’s on then headed down for some of mom best hot coco. Mom had got me my PJ’s without me do of course she choose batman. When I got to the kitchen mom was at the stove with some Hershey’s coco mix in her hade as some milk in the side Kat then followed me in wearing some PJ’s with flowers and bubble all over them.
After we finished our coco we sent to bed with light out in at 23:00 so I had one hour to play on my phone I find myself back on the website but I decide to go to sleep. After closing the website, I plug in my phone then turn on my alarm as I need to up by 07:30 as I have school. I lock my phone place it on the side table then drift off to sleep.

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Comments

I know I'm going to sound

I know I'm going to sound like the grammar police but please could you ask someone to proof read your story.
It is quite difficult to read.
Nothing wrong with the story. Keep at it.

I hate to say this, but I feel I must.

Beoca's picture

Fun story, and I will most likely keep reading if more is posted, but I agree with jenchris. Proofreading works miracles.