Chapter 2: Kelley's journal- Part one

My name is Kelley Anne Harvey. I began recording my private thoughts and my most intimate activities after reading my boyfriend's journal. I'm already discovering how therapeutic it can be to describe what I do and how I feel. Through this journal, I hope to get to know myself better.

Since this file will be for my eyes only, I promise to be honest and hold back nothing. Truth, no matter how brutal, shall reign.

I was born Kelley Anne Ellis on the nineteenth of April, 1968, to Edwin and Bernice Ellis. They were killed in an automobile accident in the winter of 1976, a month before my eighth birthday. My memories of my birth-parents are mainly happy ones although there were occasional arguments when my mother became infuriated by my father's long absences.

I'm told that I inherited my bone structure and physical appearance from my mother. Photographs of her bear this out. She was a beautiful woman with blond hair and flawless skin. My father had gorgeous red hair and freckles. He was a salesman and his job required frequent travel. My mother was a stay-at-home mom. The photographs I have of my parents show a loving couple, always smiling happily. They were obviously proud of me, but I believe my mother worried that I was growing up an only child.

When I was told about their accident I was devastated. I blamed myself for not dying with them. For a long time I thought it was my fault because they were on their way to my aunt's house where I was staying while they went to a party. I kept thinking that if I had agreed to stay all night with my aunt, my parents would have gone safely to our house. Instead, I insisted that they take me home and that's the reason they were struck by another car. It was driven by a drunk driver.

I slept through the night, unaware that my parents had been in the accident and had died while in route to the hospital. When I awoke I didn't understand why I was in a room at my aunt's house. I hated my aunt until her dying day for not telling me about the accident. I knew by her silence that something was dreadfully wrong.

Later that day, a lady came to the house and told me about my parent's accident. I had to stay with my aunt until after the funeral, and then the lady took me to live with a family that had a houseful of orphan children. I was very unhappy, not that my aunt didn't want me to stay with her, but because my parents were gone and it was my fault.

One of the things that I detested was that I had to change schools. I had not only lost my parents; I had lost my friends too. I believe that experience is the reason it has always been hard for me to become close to others. I don't know if it was the fear of losing someone I cared about or if I'm naturally cold and uncaring.

During those months in the foster home, I was a loner in a crowd, quickly developing the ability to disregard others while looking into their eyes. If they smiled, I smiled back. If they laughed, I laughed. I was always on guard. Avoiding contact with others, even while sharing a hug, was paramount to me.

I was well on my way to becoming a horrid little girl when Mr. and Mrs. Harvey invited me to spend the weekend at their house. Mrs. Harvey doted on me, bought me new clothes and let me have a double helping of dessert. I was on my best behavior, hoping to come back to the big house for another weekend.

Returning to the foster home was pure agony. Not only was the house cramped, the other children treated me badly. I think they were jealous that I had new clothes and they didn't. I retreated into my shell, smiling on the outside, miserable on the inside.

It was two weeks before the Harveys took me to their home again. I soon discovered that I could perform wonders with a smile and thoroughly enjoyed myself by testing various expressions on the grownups. When it came time for me to go back to the foster home I cried and told Mrs. Harvey I didn't want to go because the other children were mean to me.

She told me that I had to go back, but when we got to the foster home, she went inside to speak to the lady who ran the home. Things couldn't have worked out better. The first thing Mrs. Harvey saw was Rosa, one of the older girls, wearing one of my dresses. Other children were wearing my clothes too, but it was seeing Rosa stretching the seams on my dress that caused Mrs. Harvey to freak. I had never seen anyone foam at the mouth before.

The lady who ran the foster home, I don't remember her name, tried to reason with Mrs. Harvey, telling her that what she was doing was kidnapping. Mrs. Harvey stood her ground, took me by the hand and led me out of the house.

Once I was sure that I was leaving the home for good, I smiled at Rosa, secretly thanking her for making my escape possible.

I don't know how much trouble Mr. and Mrs. Harvey got into with the child care agency, but it wasn't long before I was told that I would be living in their home as long as I wanted. I was already enrolled in the new school as Kelley Anne Harvey.

In some respects, this change was more difficult than the first one because my new classmates were stuck up. They were well dressed and smarter than the children in my old school. During those few weeks until the end of the school year I used the new skills I had learned in the foster home, smiling when necessary while hiding my true feelings.

That summer was the most carefree time of my life. Besides having my own room and living in a loving home, I met two new friends in the neighborhood. Julia was two months older than me. Phillip was one year older.

Phillip had a tree house behind his house, Julia had a playhouse in her backyard and I had a swimming pool. Mrs. Harvey hired a teenage girl to be my combination baby sitter-swimming instructor. Phyllis was kept so busy that she practically lived at my house. I adored her.

She was a good sport, too. I remember the first time she tracked me down in the tree house. She climbed up, peeked in and told me it was time for my swimming lesson.

"You guys can come too," she offered to Phillip and Julia.

"I would prefer to stay here. Wouldn't you, Phillip?" Julia asked and when he confirmed that he would, I told Phyllis that I would skip my swimming lesson that day.

Unperturbed, she climbed into the tree house and suggested that we play a game. But later, on our way home to have lunch, she chastised me for my behavior.

"Phillip must be the most frustrated nine-year-old alive," she quipped.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You and Julia are competing for his affection and he doesn't know which way to turn. Doesn't he have any male friends?"

"We're not competing," I differed.

"Yes you are. Why didn't you want to leave Julia alone with him?"

Phyllis was like that, always making me question my actions. "I don't know," I admitted.

Phillip did have a friend his age. Danny lived on the next street and often joined us in the tree house, but I didn't like Danny and I don't believe Julia did either. We usually left the boys, making an excuse that we were going to play with our dolls. This was our ploy to get rid of Danny. We knew he hated dolls and that Phillip would find a way to join us at Julia's house.

As I write about that summer, it forces me to remember those horrific days I spent in the foster home and the contrast I experienced in my new home. I had the run of the house and soon discovered that I could give orders to the maids and the gardener.

My friends knew that my real parents were dead and that Mr. and Mrs. Harvey had brought me to live in their home. They were inquisitive, but I wouldn't tell them how my parents had been killed or about the dreadful months I had spent in the foster home. I wanted to forget that part of my life. Even after the adoption became official I was secretive about my past.

Julia and I were constant companions and Phillip was always welcome to join us. But he soon became more interested in boy scouts and little league than playing with us. He and Danny stopped inviting us to come to the tree house and we went our separate ways.

Mr. and Mrs. Harvey were extremely patient with me. I knew they wanted me to call them father and mother, but I was uncomfortable letting them take the places of my real mom and dad. As my body changed from a scrawny kid with freckles and pigtails into a shapely teenager, I had to rely on Mrs. Harvey to explain the facts of life, something she took great pleasure in doing. Our discussions led to trust and friendship between us. That is when I began calling her Mom and Mr. Harvey Daddy.

A milestone occurred the summer before we were to enter the ninth grade. Julia and I became interested in boys. We talked about them constantly, how to attract them, how to get them to kiss us and how much to allow them to do with us. These were giggling sessions, usually occurring late at night in one of our bedrooms.

Julia was two months older than me and more adventurous. We were in her bed when she kissed me on the lips. At first, I was shocked and pushed her away.

"Don't you want to know how it's done?" she asked.

"I know how it's done," I said in retort. Kissing in movies had always attracted my attention.

"Let's see if you do," Julia said, and I let her kiss me. Her lips were surprisingly soft against mine.

"Move your lips," she instructed and I did, feeling her lips pressed to mine for the longest time.

"Open up a little," she said, resuming the kiss before I could catch my breath. She put her arm around me and I felt her breasts rubbing my chest.

"You need practice," Julia concluded as she rolled onto her back, leaving me wanting.

"I need a boy to practice with," I said, causing us to giggle, helplessly.

"We'll have a party," Julia decided and I agreed that it was a good idea.

Planning the party, who to invite, what snacks to serve, how much soda we would need, what music to play and how to change from dancing to games that involved kissing occupied the better part of the next week. Invitations went out to some of the kids in our class. As an afterthought, Phillip was invited.

"I want him to be the first boy I kiss," Julia announced, making me think inviting Phillip to the party was in her plans from the beginning. She could always tell when I was miffed about something. "We'll invite Danny, too," she said as if to appease me.

I didn't care if Danny came to the party or not. Phillip was the boy I wanted to be my first kiss and Julia knew it. "We need more practice," she declared, which was her way of inviting herself to my house for the night.

We wore short nightgowns and panties to bed, and when she started kissing me I felt her hand ease along my bare tummy, heading for my breasts.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I asked when I felt her hand nearing my breasts.

"That's good," she said, removing her hand. "We're practicing how to say 'no' to a boy when he tries something you don't want him to do."

"Oh," I said, feeling sorry that I had stopped her.

"Now, you do me," she said, rolling onto her back.

I brought my lips to hers and noticed how quickly she opened her mouth. I moved my lips, imagining it was Phillip that I was kissing. Julia moved her head and told me to 'try something', which I did. Our kiss became more intense as I slid my hand over her tummy and upward, toward her breasts until I was holding one of them in my hand.

Julia was more developed than me. Her breast felt enormous in my small hand. She broke out kiss long enough to tell me to 'squeeze it'.

I wondered why she didn't tell me to stop. Instead, she moaned into my mouth and moved her hands over my back, down to my butt. I squeezed her breast and played with the nipple, totally enthralled with what we were doing, until I felt her hand on my pussy.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I asked as I pulled away from her.

"You sure know how to break a spell," Julia spat at me, and then she softened. "You won't have any trouble turning a boy off when he gets too fresh."

I lay on my back, confused and sad. Why had I stopped her from groping me?

"I'm ready to try it with a boy. I don't need any more practice," I said, determined to submerge my feelings.

Julia didn't try to persuade me to continue our practice and, when she invited me for a sleepover, I made some excuse. I didn't trust myself to sleep in the same bed with her.

Wanting to talk to someone about the stirring I felt while kissing Julia and not wanting to discuss my feeling with my mom, I called Phyllis. She was home from college and happy to meet with me. She came to my house on the pretense of watching me practice a new dive. We sat on the side of the pool with our feet in the water. She tried to put me at ease.

"There's nothing uncommon about your concerns, Kelley. We've all experimented them at your age."

"It's not just kissing. She wanted us to practice telling a boy to stop when he goes too far, but when I touched her boobs she didn't stop me," I cautiously informed her.

Phyllis adjusted the top of her swimsuit, like she was making sure her breasts were concealed. "Girls are more adventuresome than boys at your age. Boys will be satisfied with a kiss and if they're not, just say no."

"The boy I want to kiss is a year older than me," I said.

Phyllis nodded. "Is he the boy in the tree house?"

"His name is Phillip and I've always liked him," I admitted.

"Do you think he wants to kiss you?"

"I don't know. He may want to kiss Julia. I know she wants to kiss him."

Phyllis tipped her head back and laughed. "I see you're still competing for Phillip's affection. Don't confine your search for a boyfriend to this neighborhood, Kelley. If Phillip wants to kiss Julia, let her have him. There are cute boys in other neighborhoods and you're getting to be an attractive girl."

This wasn't what I wanted to hear at all. I thought she would tell me how to make a boy want to kiss me. "Julia's boobs are bigger than mine," I lamented.

"That's true, but she doesn't have your red hair and dimple. You have a lovely smile and a pleasing personality. Think positive about your assets and others will see you for what you are."

Phyllis had a way of making me feel special, but she really hadn't said anything that would help me make Phillip want to kiss me. "Do you let boys feel your breasts?" I asked.

Phyllis took a deep breath and blushed. "Sometimes, when I want them to do it."

"How do you know when you want them to do it?"

"That's something you'll have to determine for yourself, Kelley."

"Julia wants boys to feel her breasts."

"You're a different person from Julia, aren't you?"

In her own way, Phyllis had helped me understand how I should proceed with this boy-girl thing. I agreed with her and thanked her for her help.

"Talk to your mother about this," she said as she was leaving, giving me the impression that she was relieved that our talk was over.

Confused as I was, I looked forward to the party. We had invited ten boys and eight girls in addition to Julia and me. I helped her set everything up in her basement playroom and then ran home to change clothes. When I got back everyone was dancing, except the shortest boy in our class. He asked me to dance and I had to accept. I noticed that Julia was dancing with Phillip. The song soon ended and a taller boy asked me to dance. Julia and Phillip were still dancing together.

I must have danced with all the other boys, including two times with Danny, before Phillip asked me to dance. It was a slow tune and the lights were turned down low. I could feel his hand on my back and his cheek next to mine. But, just as I thought he was going to kiss me, the music stopped and the lights went on.

"Who's up for a game?" Julia asked and everyone groaned. Phillip released me, but we stayed close to each other in case the dancing resumed.