Chapter 1: What a Fucking Loser

Where does a good story start? Does it start with the birth of the main character, his horrible life leading up to his present situation? Do readers want to hear about the back story? There are no real answers to these questions. Often times there are no good answers to anything. Some people aren't given any answers; they have to find them on their own. This story started thousands of years ago, but the telling will begin at the present.

"Timothy! Get your ass in here!"

Susanne stood by the sink with a wooden spoon in her hand, tapping it menacingly on her left, her gaze directed at the weed of a boy that walked into the room. Her mouth opened carnivorously as she played with her serving utensil, "I thought I told you to clean out the sink! How many times do I need to tell you to do something around here?" She threw the spoon at the sink; it clanged loudly off one of the pans within. Tim stared at the pans as if they had been expelled from the maw of some foul beast. The pans were clearly fresh, having been placed in the sink moments after Tim had finished scrubbing earlier that day.

She continued without even pausing to look at where the foul spoon landed. "If I knew that you were going to be so much trouble I never would have taken you as a foster child. I never have this kind of problem with Sarah and Violet. You should be more like them."

She advanced on her prey, the cowering high schooler, "Would you like me to help you? I'm sure I can find a couple of dresses that would fit. I am sure you would love to go to school wearing your sister's hand-me-downs, considering how much of a shit you are. I think that most of their old dresses would fit. Go get one and let's see."

Tim was never a normal teenager. In his sixteen years of age he had already been bounced around through five foster homes before he was accepted into the home of Brian and Susanne Nickels. Each stay ended when he was removed by the state due to one violent act or another on the part of the foster parents whom he was placed in the care of. Tim had seen far more physical abuse than most children. He had taken more beatings than he could remember, and he bore scars all across his body. Each of his previous five homes had been cold and piercing, much like a shard of glass, broken from a glass cup. They had enjoyed tormenting him; some out of drunkenness, others out of hatred. All of his foster parents had been cruel to him.

He had developed a surprisingly positive outlook on life despite his mistreatment. When a child is raised knowing only punishment and deprivation, it tends to grow up cold and mean. These are the settings that breed bullies and criminals.

Tim was different. There was something deep within his heart instead of hatred. Tim was a dreamer. He was too often consumed by what could be and perhaps would be, instead of what was. He was a loner in school, and he didn't care. He didn't hang out with anyone; at times it is uncertain he even understood the definition of "hanging out". He didn't have any friends. Who wanted to be with the quiet guy who hid in a corner and read?

Instead of the usual distractions associated with children of today, Tim spent a lot of his time at the public library. He did a lot of writing, nothing profound, but he liked to write down his dreams. He had read every story with a dragon in it. He had also read many books acclaimed by others to be classics.

It is sad how a person can go through life without having any real connection with other people. The boy was surviving alone. He dealt as little with his current family as he could get away with. They weren't as bad as his previous families. He hadn't been scarred physically by them. To some extent they showed love toward him. He was taken in by the Nickels at the age of 8. Susanne Nickels and her husband Brian Nickels had two daughters, Sarah and Violet. Brian had always wanted a son but his wife had become barren after complications with Violet's birth. After registering with the foster system they were contacted about helping with Tim. Mr. Nickels was a doctor of medical science, a surgeon. The family was very wealthy from not just his practice but also because both he and his wife were from wealthy families. To Tim, this was being rescued from his life of pain and taken to a world of privilege.

Brian Nickels immediately took to his foster son. In response to his care, Tim became active in the family. Brian gave Tim gifts and taught him how to fish. The two of them would go off to the family cabin to fish at least every other week. They would sit out in their boat and just enjoy each other's company. Tim got a lot out of having Brian in his life, and Brian felt complete now that he had a son to carry on his name. Within the first two weeks of living with the Nickels Tim had legally changed his name to match theirs. He was their son. They were his family.

Susanne Nickels was absolutely in love with her husband. Since the day they had met, her life revolved around him. She would have done anything to please him, including taking in a foster child. She wasn't ready to deal with the possibility that Brian would become so attached to the boy. Susanne wasn't jealous of the love her husband had for her children. She couldn't understand how he could love Tim with the ferocity he portrayed. As her husband and her now adopted son became closer and closer over the next seven years her jealously grew. She knew that the two of them were becoming more like father and son and it hurt her. The inequity of being unable to bear another child fueled her hatred of Tim.

Sarah and Violet didn't welcome Tim into the family with open arms either. The love given to him by Brian was meant for them; jealously bred hatred. To them, Tim was an outsider who took their father away from them, almost from the first day he arrived. While were never overtly offensive when their father was around, they would play small pranks and tricks on him. The girls particularly enjoying his reactions to them taunting him with their bodies. They wouldn't do anything to jeopardize what love their father did give to them however.

Brian was the kind of man who everyone wanted to be loved by. He brought out a need to feel loved in the woman in his family, especially his daughters. He never even noticed the dissension within his own family. He loved each of them. When he had heard some of the things Tim had gone through he had decided to be the father the boy needed. Brian would raise Tim as his son and teach him everything he knew. Tim was a part of his family as far as he was concerned and he didn't expect the reactions from the rest of his family.

Tim did not look strong. He had very gentle features for someone who had seen so much, lightly tanned skin, and soft eyes. His strength was completely masked beneath his flesh. He appeared very weak, gentle. He had the strength to pull a fish out of water, but he had never been bulky. Then again, he was only sixteen. In his previous homes he had never gotten the things a child craved. When his clothes fell apart he would get replacements. Yet he never got video games. He had no toys. He never had a computer. He had used the family one depending on the home, but never for long. He had to make do with the library. He had his flights of fancy, though he often wore t-shirts and jeans, both articles with multiple holes.

His new life with the Nickels changed drastically when he was fifteen. Brian and Tim were going out to the cabin to go fishing. They piled into Brian's Cadillac at four in the morning and hit the road. The hitting of the road actually happened after they had reached the highway. Though for them it was early in the morning, to the drunk driver who hit them it was late in the evening.

The Cadillac flipped as the Hummer smashed into it. The car rolled three times finally being stopped by the metal guard rails. It took the emergency medical technicians five minutes to get to the scene. It took the firefighters another five to get enough of the car open for them to get to either of the Cadillac's two inhabitants. Brian was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. Tim had a broken arm, two broken legs, and internal bleeding. He survived but was kept in the hospital for almost two months.

Tim's happiness was officially over. When he was finally released from the hospital and got back to the Nickels everything was different. Susanne blamed him for her husband's death. She still hated that he was a constant reminder of her inability to provide her husband with a son. Tim was a constant reminder of the love she had lost from her husband. She just couldn't forgive him for surviving when her husband hadn't.

Over the next year, Susanne had become more and more aggressive toward Tim. She blamed him for everything wrong in the family. When an appliance broke, it was his fault. When a light bulb blew out, he caused it. Without him, her husband wouldn't have gone fishing that day. It was Tim's fault Brian died. It was Tim's fault her husband was no longer there to love her.

Tim couldn't stop shaking as he went toward his eldest sister's, Sarah, room. The girls hadn't worn dresses in years, but their mother insisted that they keep some that fit for going to fancy occasions, not that the family, if it could be called that, was ever invited to any. As he got to the door, Tim heard his sister's music playing loudly; the house was large and provided a little privacy to everyone who was deemed to be worth it, he knocked on the door, almost afraid to make a sound. He knew that every minute that he wasn't downstairs with a dress one was another ten he would be punished. What he didn't know is that Susanne had already set this up with Sarah, Tim had a surprise coming.

After a moment without a response he knocked again louder, again without a response he banged on the door. "Sarah, can I come in?"

Tim opened the door, the happy pop techno becoming almost too loud, as he poked his head into the room. He looked over and saw his sister laying on her bed, naked, her hands between her legs masturbating, her eyes closed. Tim couldn't help but look, she was so beautiful. Her long blond hair splayed around her head on her pillow like a brilliant shroud. Her tan skin seemed fair and delicate, not a single blemish, and the red flush of excitement made her seem even more attractive. Her c-cup breasts showed the sag of a seventeen year old, none, still perfectly firm and formed as the day they were divinely gifted. Her tight, firm body was perfect, not too soft, not too hard. He stared at her long legs for a moment, mesmerized by the trap of Venus herself. He tried not to look but failed miserably, cheerleading certainly does a body good.

The first time he saw this goddess he never imagined she could be capable of the evil she had done to him, how could something so beautiful be so evil? The answer, as Tim had found, is very easily. His sisters had been doing this sort of thing for as long as he had been with them. Leaving their bedroom door open enough to show off as they changed clothes, or walking to and from the shower wearing only a towel, these seemingly accidental occurrences were just the start when Tim moved in. As Sarah and Violet became more accustomed to him, more specifically, they had caught his scent and knew that he couldn't run any more, they upped the ante. It seemed a competition between the two to see who could make him try to claim one of the forbidden fruits. All three knew what would happen if he submitted to temptation, the girl would scream rape, and it would just be the girls again. It did however, seem to give the girls some perverse pleasure to tease him, showing him something he could never have, but would always want. They were a drug, a sick twisted drug. One that you didn't need to smoke or swallow, the mere sight of it seemed enough to make you an addict. Tim had no hope, he found himself weak and helpless against their predatory powers.

Every girl he met he had to compare to his sisters, both of who were beyond beautiful. When compared to the dictator of the cheerleaders, and the beautiful president of the student body, all the other girls seemed to be lacking. Tim had never dated, and likely never would. As if sensing his presence and knowing the exact moment when his body would betray him, Sarah's eyes popped open, "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Even naked, playing with herself Sarah seemed more powerful and in control than Tim had ever felt in his life. "Well, I asked you a question runt. You are so fucking pathetic. If have to come in here to get your rocks off, then by all means pull out your cue tip and start playing with your self. "What, can't you find it? I have tweezers and a magnifying glass in the top drawer of my dresser if that will help." Tim just stood there dumbfounded for a moment before Sarah continued, "What do you want sissy?"

"Mom sent me to get a dress from you." Tim said in a very quiet voice. Though the punishments doled out from his foster mother were usually odd and seemingly uncalled for, Tim knew better than to ask why, but this time it seemed worse. How could he actually wear one of his sister's dresses? If nothing else she was about six inches taller than him, and while she was large of chest and was built for cheerleading, he was sickly and thin.