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***All characters depicted herein are of age, 18 years old at least, and all sexual activities portrayed are consensual. Some of what you read may cause distress.***

Igniting a gas lighter, Claire Bright, 39, holds the flame to burn the tip of a spliff containing some drugs she just got from a local dealer with assurances of it’s potency. She inhales deep, and again, and again, ensuring a good burning, and taking in the smoke from the burning of the weed and crystals contained within the rolling papers. Content with the rush of endorphins from her breathing deep of the drugs, she exhales, shooting a steady stream of light grey smoke in a thin funnel, wisping up and away at the extent of it’s reach, and she passes the spliff to her husband.

Sitting comfortably in their living room, almost lying down on a broken settee, Joven Bright, 41, takes the offering from his wife, and he partakes in the smoking of the spliff, inhaling deep, and gently breathing out puffs of smoke spilling up from his upper lip. He passes the spliff back to his wife, and he settles down onto the old, worn, fabric seat cushions with his bum resting on the floor just off the cushion, and his legs trailing across the floor.

Music blasts from the speakers of an old hi-fi system and 5.1 surround sound set-up; rock from their teens, with deep lyrics and driving guitar riffs underpinned by thumping bass lines and crashing drums, with the vocals a calling from deep within the souls of the artists, yearning for some understanding, asking questions of the madness of existence.

Claire sinks down next to her husband, sucking in a couple of takes of the spliff, feeling the smoke churning in her throat and her lungs before breathing it out of her mouth and nostrils. She snuggles up beside Joven, and places the spliff at his lips, allowing him to inhale more of the smoke. She lifts the spliff away, and Joven lays his head back with his mouth open, allowing the smoke to softly billow up as if from a chimney.

One song soon fades to the next, and the next, and the next, and the spliff is passed back and forth between Joven and Claire. Eventually, the hi-fi falls silent, then clicks and whirs as CD’s in the disk trays of the multi-changer are rotated into position so the next one programmed can be played, and play resumes from a new beginning.

Claire takes the final drag from the spliff, dubbing out the stub in the ash tray beside her on the floor, and she exhales the last smoke from the spliff, watching as it rises to the swirling cloud hanging below the ceiling above her and husband’s heads. Thick ribbons, almost silky and glittering in the warm glow of the overhead light, swim around in the air, churning and settling, and rising again.

Joven peels down Claire’s low-cut top, and he nurses on her boobs, lapping away feverishly with his tongue, much to his wife’s delight as she leans over him more to make it easier for him to reach. He settles back to relax as he sucks on his wife’s nipples as they delicately dangle above his mouth.

Claire yanks down on Joven’s tracksuit bottoms, unveiling his limp dick flopping around as it settles after being agitated by the sliding of the bottoms over it. She slips off her own tracksuit bottoms, and straddles her husband, gently squeezing his dick in her hand between her legs as she sits on him.

Joven feels a strange mix of coldness and tinges of heat as his wife pulsates her hand to promote blood flow to his dick, and it gradually stiffens and grows within Claire’s grasp. He settles down with his shoulders and upper back onto the seat cushion and the carpet under him, and he allows his eyelids to become heavy and close.

Content with her husband’s hardness, Claire holds Joven’s dick just to grace the lips of her pussy, easing herself down the dick, feeling her moist lips give way, as does the inner walls of her pussy until she drops down to rub herself firmly across his bollocks. Claire rocks herself with steadiness, slowly leaning over Joven to lift herself up his dick, then pumping herself with pressure back to the base to both of their pleasures.

Closing her eyes, feeling a dizziness make her head and upper body feel floatier, and feeling her insides pull to one side, then the other, almost like feeling the sickening effect of being on choppy sea waves. She lays herself down completely on her husband as she continues to ride him, feeling his body tense and stiffen under her, with surges of cold being felt in his chest.

Joven shoots his spunk up into his wife, and Claire opens her eyes to see her husband laying peacefully and still, beneath her. Not wanting to disturb him, she looks up, and reaches for a blanket from the back of the settee, and pulls it down to her as her husband’s dick dangles loose from her pussy from the extent of her reach being too far to stay inside. She pulls the blanket around her back and lays gently down on her husband, snug under the warm fabric, albeit with a shiver inside her as she too feels london escorts rushes of cold, and she settles down to sleep.

A few days pass, and Tiffany Bright, 21, is at the offices of Cummings Enterprises International, scanning through documents and spreadsheets to check the businesses under her purview are operating as expected. Her eyes burn slightly as they feel strained from looking too strongly at screens for too long, but she is devoted to her work, and gives herself to it absolutely. Her smartphone buzzes on the desk at her laptop’s side, on silent and vibrate, as she receives a phone call from a number she doesn’t recognise.

Picking up her phone, Tiffany answers, and puts it on speakerphone, placing it back on the desk as she calls out, “Hello?”

A gentle female voice calls back, to ask, “Is that Miss Tiffany Bright?”

Tiffany feels somewhat exasperated as she answers, “Yes, you are through to Miss Tiffany Bright. Who are you, and why are you calling?”

The woman on the phone softly says, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but we have Mr Joven Bright, and Mrs Claire Bright, your parents in, and their records show you as their next of kin to contact. They were found deceased, and brought in to us to examine to find the cause of death. They are being autopsied right now. Are you able to come in? We would like to answer any questions you must have.”

Tiffany feels a sickness in the pit of her stomach, but she holds it there, and she stares intensely at the laptop screen blankly as she calls into the phone, “I will be there as soon as I am able,” and she puts the phone down. She feels a strong weight pressing down over her shoulders, almost forcing her into the chair much deeper as her thighs feel number, and the skin there feeling tighter.

Taking a few deep breaths, Tiffany turns on her phone from standby, and she scrolls through her phone’s contact list, and taps to call Domhnall. He answers on speakerphone, “Domhnall Cummings speaking.”

Tiffany calls to him, “Domhnall… I… just got a call from the hospital. They have my parents. They are dead…”

Domhnall concernedly asks, “How are you feeling?”

Tiffany shrugs, and responds casually, “It’s fine.”

Domhnall considerately tells Tiffany, “It is most certainly not fine. I am officially suggesting to you to take the day off. Go to the hospital, and see your parents, and take care. I will let Craig know, as soon as he is available, and I will have him join you. We can discuss time off for bereavement once we have more details about what is happening. Does that sound good?”

Tiffany nods, and blankly replies, “Yeah… Sounds good,” and she presses her phone screen to end the call, sitting there to stew in her feelings as they swell up inside her. She thinks to herself, “You start to feel something good in your life, and they drag you back down. I fucking hate them… I fucking hate them… I fucking hate them… I fucking… I fuck… I fuck… I fucking hate them,” bursting into floods of tears as she sits in her office, cradling her chest with her arms as closely as she can.

It takes around half an hour for Tiffany to get to the hospital, and after announcing herself at reception, the attending doctor finds her and takes her into a consulting room to talk privately with her. The doctor says, “I understand this is a difficult time for you. Your parents were brought in by the police following a call from their neighbours about loud music playing non-stop. After attempts to get their attention, they forcibly entered the house, and they discovered them deceased.

“We have found through testing that the cause of death was drug overdose, consistent with what the police officers found at the house. From our tests of the substance and it’s observed effects on their bodies, it would have been quite painless and peaceful, if that comes as any consolation.

“If you have any questions, I would be pleased to answer them. We will do what we can to make this easier for you going forward.”

Tiffany stares blankly into the middle distance, hearing what the doctor has to say, but disinterested in it. She sits in silence, as the doctor sits and watches, allowing Tiffany time to be with herself. Eventually, Tiffany asks in an annoyed tone, “What happens now?”

The doctor explains, “They are being kept in the morgue for now, awaiting transfer to the care of a funeral parlour. Do you have any preparations for this?”

Tiffany looks at the doctor plainly, saying through gritted teeth, “Preparations? No. I will get onto this right away. I don’t want to waste any more time on this than I have to.”

The doctor assures Tiffany, “Oh, there is no rush. You take all the time you need. Losing a parent is hard. Losing both parents at the same time must be incredibly difficult.”

Tiffany smirks, and remarks, “Difficult? No. There is nothing difficult about this. I’m going to see to it they are put in the ground as soon as possible, and london escort I’m finally going to move on with my life.”

Looking concerned, the doctor looks Tiffany up and down, and asks, “Is there anyone I can call to be with you at this time?”

Tiffany candidly replies, “Craig Reid. He’s my fiance. Here’s his number,” getting out her smartphone, and getting it up from her contacts list.

Politely, the Doctor types the number onto her own smartphone’s keypad, handing Tiffany’s phone back to her as she says, “I will give him a quick ring outside, and I will come back to you. Is that okay?”

Tiffany bluntly says, “Fine,” and the doctor does as she said she would, stepping out to make a call, leaving Tiffany alone for a short while.

The doctor soon returns, bringing with her a bottle of water and a chocolate bar from the vending machine down the corridor, handing them to Tiffany, considerately saying, “I thought you might like a drink, and something to eat.” Tiffany takes them, and she unscrews the cap on the bottle of water, taking a small sip as the doctor also says, “Craig said he is on his way, and will be with us shortly. I will stay with you through this.”

Tiffany coldly tells the doctor, “You needn’t bother. I’m fine,” but the doctor stays anyway, sitting in silence with her all the while.

When Craig arrives and announces himself at reception, the doctor receives a page to inform her of his presence, and she leaves Tiffany to collect him from there. She confidentially explains to him, “Tiffany is going through a hard time right now. Both of her parents died due to drug overdose. Speaking with Tiffany, she seems very apathetic, and emotionally distressed, but exhibiting her emotions in a very cold and closed manner. I would suggest she has counselling.”

Craig, 20, states, “She was with a therapist before, so I will see to it she books with her again to help her through this. Thank you for everything you have done. She has a rough relationship with her parents, so I understand why she is the way she is. I will definitely make sure she gets the help she needs.”

In the consulting room, Tiffany is greeted by the warmth from her fiance, but returns nothing but a cold look, not reciprocating a hug he gives her. Craig consoles her, “I heard about what happened. I know how you feel about them, but I am here for you; however you need me, I’m here.”

All Tiffany can say to Craig is, “Fine,” and sits silently with him until they leave to go home.

The next week is spent arranging for the funeral, getting burials and a date for a service for both of Tiffany’s parents together. She is also encouraged to book herself to see Melissa Fisher, the therapist who helped her with her mood after her rape.

Sitting across from Melissa in her clinic, Tiffany opens up about her feelings, explaining, “I’m really not upset about them being dead at all. It’s a relief really. They weren’t good parents at all. All they cared about was their next high, and it finally killed them. They died doing what they loved, so, I couldn’t give a shit.”

Melissa notes down what Tiffany says, and states, “They raised you into a successful businesswoman, so it can’t be all bad.”

Tiffany corrects her, “They never raised me. Lucy and George raised me. They are my mom and dad, not Joven and Claire. Joven and Claire are nothing to me. They are absolutely nothing. If I didn’t have Lucy and George, I would have been neglected, and would have died a malnourished toddler desperate for attention and someone to feed me, because Joven and Claire wouldn’t have. They would be too high to notice or care.

“My parents aren’t dead. They are still here. I work with them. Lucy and George are my real parents. They looked after me since before I could walk and talk, when Joven and Claire were bored of me. Frankie and Craig are my siblings. I have never been an only-child with them around. My family is alive and well, and happy, and is expanding,” she says, cradling her belly with her hands.

Melissa congratulates Tiffany, commenting, “That’s wonderful news,” and notes, “So, you say you are not upset, but your voice is constantly raised, your breathing is harder than normal, you are slightly flushed in the face,” looking her in the eyes to ask, “Why say you are not upset when you clearly are? You may not be crying, but you are clearly angry. Do you feel it?”

Tiffany struggles to maintain eye contact with Melissa, glancing anywhere other than her face, and she says, getting increasingly flustered and agitated, “I am not angry. I am not… I don’t feel it, and I am not upset… I don’t care that they are gone. I haven’t lost anything… I’m fine…”

Melissa continues to look at Tiffany’s eyes, and she sees her become restless as she sits, rubbing her thighs and her knees with her palms, and rocking her body back and forth. She calmly says, “Tiffany, you are not fine. You are far from fine. I don’t have to have my qualifications to see that you london escort agency are not fine. A blind person could easily see you are not fine. Why lie to yourself?”

Tiffany gets more animated, moving more and more, quick to reply, “I am not lying to myself.”

Melissa soothingly says to Tiffany, “I understand why you would feel the way you feel about your parents, but I’m trying to get you to acknowledge your feelings so you can find acceptance and move on.”

Tiffany shouts, “I am fine!,” and she recoils, noticing what she just said and how she said it, and her lips tremble, her cheeks flush a bright red, and her eyes well up, surrendering to a deep bout of crying, sobbing, “I’m fine… I’m fine… I, I,I… I’m fine… I am… I’m fine…”

Melissa hands Tiffany a box of tissues, which she takes, and mentions to her, “You didn’t always live with the Reids. You lived with Joven and Claire. They must have looked after you at some point.”

Tiffany mops her face with a tissue, and nods, saying, “I get what you are getting at, and, you are wrong. Joven and Claire weren’t fit to look after me, even when they were sober and lucid. I’m not lying when I say I would have been dead if it wasn’t for Lucy and George. I would stay in their care more often than not, and, Joven and Claire would miss me, so they would have me back, and make an effort for a day or two, and then I would be taken back by Lucy and George because Joven and Claire were ‘too stressed by me,’ so they would get high again, and the cycle continued.

“I actually gave a shit for a long time. It was normal life for me. I didn’t know any different, and, I was always so impressed by Lucy about how she managed her household that I would take that back home, and I would make meals, do the dishes, do the laundry, clean and tidy, only for it to be messed up again by Joven and Claire living like slobs. I was the fucking carer. I was the fucking parent. I was a fucking child.”

Melissa enquires, “What made you move out, and into Lucy and George’s house?”

Tiffany’s eyes seems to gloss over as she recalls, “I had enough. I was tired of caring for Joven and Claire, and, I hadn’t heard from Frankie regularly for a while, because she met her now husband, and was spending more time with her. I went to Lucy’s looking for Frankie, but didn’t find her. I was always Frankie’s friend first and foremost, but, I was always close with everyone.

“Suddenly, I was looking at Craig in a very different way. I had always had feelings for him, but kept them secret. Then, I felt them more strongly, and, I didn’t want to go back home, or, rather I was home. It felt natural. It felt right. I became his girlfriend, and I properly moved in with them. I was always welcome, so it wasn’t a change. It was just the best thing for me, and we are all happy together. They were always there, and still are.”

Melissa probes, “When you moved in with Craig, what happened with Joven and Claire? You were looking after them, then, you left them to fend for themselves.”

Tiffany explains, “They had a life before me. They didn’t want me, or need me, and, when I realised I didn’t want to be there any more, and have a life of my own, I knew they could have a life without me. I just gave them what they wanted.”

Melissa looks back through an old file, and states, “You said in our sessions before that Lucy and George got Joven and Claire to see you when you were down. Can you tell me about that?”

Tiffany recalls, “I was withdrawn, quiet, reclusive. I felt so bad about myself. Lucy and George were worried about me, and they invited Joven and Claire to be a part of my life when I really needed them the most, but, they were quickly bored, and, they barely made an effort beyond showing up, and they didn’t help me at all. They couldn’t even pretend to be interested or concerned. They arranged to buy some drugs and fucked off. They weren’t welcome much after that, and I didn’t give them much thought after that until now.”

Melissa comments, “So, it’s been over a year since you were last in contact with Joven and Claire. Did they even know about how successful you have become, or that you are expecting?”

Tiffany shakes her head, and says, “No. It’s quite frankly none of their business. They were dead to me before they were literally dead.”

Melissa asks, “So, where does the anger and the upset come from?”

Tiffany looks tiredly at Melissa, almost pleading from the bottom of her heart as she says, “I don’t know.”

Melissa suggests, “I think, from what you have told me, that you have been living in a fantasy about living a better life for so long, you believe it is your real life. It’s almost like Cinderella, don’t you think? You are Cinderella, and you are forced to look after Joven and Claire, wishing for a better life, and you are given glimpses of it from your godparents, Lucy and George. You are transformed by their promise of the life you wish for, and find your Prince Charming, but, with Joven and Claire’s deaths, it’s almost like the spell is broken, and your emotions are returned to what it was like living at home; your real home. For throughout your formative years, they shaped you. They gave you ambition. They made you aspire.”

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