Chapter 1: Fate and Surprises

I've always found it interesting when life deals you a surprise, both good and bad, either one very often leaving you confused and more than just a little disoriented. Such was the case with me, when circumstances dictated a change in my own personal life that I never saw coming.

My name is Cynthia, Cynthia Green. My friends call me "Cyn" though everyone knows they're really calling me "Sin" as I always have had a bit of a naughty side to me. Don't get me wrong, I'm no slut. I didn't fuck every boy on the football or basket ball team. In fact, I didn't even have sex until I had graduated from high school two years ago. Sure, I'd petted, and done just about everything else short of having actual intercourse. And not that I didn't want to either, because I did. And it wasn't like I was saving it for marriage either. What I didn't want, was to become pregnant this early in life. And to be perfectly honest about it, I wasn't about to put my faith and trust in some boy that couldn't put a condom on, or wouldn't. Even if I was also on the pill. That's just the way it was with me. Accept a hand job, or even a blowjob if we'd been together for a while, and expect nothing else. The moment I felt pressured, it was over with.

But that's basically why everyone called me "Sin". Jerry my first real boyfriend, even though he wasn't the first one I ever slept with, was the one that tagged me with the nick-name that eventually stuck. He said it was just plain sinful to even look at me. Sure, I had (I think) nice looking breasts, not too large, or too small, perfect for my height and weight at five foot five and a hundred and twenty one pounds. Long dark brown, almost black hair well past my shoulders and a nice tight ass that I honestly felt was my best feature. And Not that I dressed provocatively on purpose, or wore things that were a bit too revealing either. Even though at times I certainly did. It was more my personality, my outlook on life, and the open-minded attitude I carried that caused Jerry to call me "Sinful," and eventually just "Sin." I was always, always curious ... about everything, and usually wanted to try it ... at least once.

But this really isn't where the story begins either. The story begins with me growing up next door to my childhood friend, Danny. Now Dan as he calls himself. I was an only child, just as he was. And our parents were the very best of friends. We had no idea how good of friends they really were until years later, as I'll soon here relate. But suffice it to say, Danny ... I mean Dan and I were almost like brother and sister whenever we were around one another, which growing up ... was a lot. And as such, maybe because of that childhood closeness, we never really ventured into the realm of pursuing anything more than that with one another. Well not really anyway. I mean we did explore those childhood curiosities yes. Played doctor in the closest, discovered what the real differences were between boys and girls. Kissed for the first time a member of the opposite sex. (Which I really enjoyed), and had someone I could confide in, share secrets with, and knew he would have my back. Just as I would always have his. Although we were damn good friends and companions, it was again ... more like having a brother who was the exact same age as I was, without being twins. We had known one another for what seemed like forever, hardly ever apart. And then college came. Dan getting a scholarship to a college out of state, and me ... getting a partial scholarship to one a bit closer to home, though I still ended up moving out and into the dorm.

Life moved on. And though we still kept in touch from time to time, the brother I had once known and had, was moving on in life, just as was I.

And then the shit hit the fan.

This was one of those bad surprises that rocks your world, turns it upside down and inside out, and rattles your head so much in the process that you can't think clearly. If you can even think at all. When I got the news, I was flabbergasted, disoriented, and simply torn apart. At the time, I didn't even think about the why of it ... only the unfairness and shock that it had even happened. The only upside, if one can even call it that, was that Danny went through it with me.

Our parents had gone out to a party on New Year's Eve. Coming home, they were struck head on by another drunk driver. My father and Danny's mother had been sitting together in the front seat. They were both killed. My mother, and his father, had been in the back, and came away with nothing more than a few bruises and scrapes, but at least they'd both survived.