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[justjules23-blog]

Task 36

6:45 am

Beep, beeep, beeeeep! The shrill, persistent screeching of a small, silver alarm clocked pierced the peaceful slumber of a now irritated brunette. Flailing her arm she slapped the snooze button before dragging the comforter up and over her head, burrowing into her cozy bed once more. She had only just fallen back asleep when the little devil began to blare again. With a huff she shoved the blankets from her face, kicking them off with her legs like a dramatic child before forcing herself into a sitting position.

With a grumble she switched the alarm off and rose to her feet. Before she had even reached the doorway of her bedroom her cellphone was singing from its resting place on the nightstand beside the now silent alarm clock. Crossing the room again she lifted the phone, but did not recognise the number that displayed across the screen. Swiping her index finger across the screen to unlock it before answering the call. "Hello", she said into the phone with a sleepy yawn.

It had been nearly a two months since she'd spoken to her sister. The last time they spoke she had been tied to a chair, her eyes covered by a blindfold. She was certain that she would never hear from the blonde again and yet it was her voice that called out from the other end of the line. "Juliet", her voice had called out, weak and hoarse. The sound sending Juliet 's rapid beating heart into her stomach.

"Suzie"? Panic gripped her heart, threatening to shut off her air supply. She could hear breathing on the end, rustling like plastic bags begin wadded into a ball. The next voice she heard was the voice of her father. "She's tainted now because of you. Untouchable. Because of you. So I am going to give her to you, but first I want something in return" . His voice was cold much like she had remembered.

"What do you want? Anything you want. You want money? Name the price" , she demanded. "You're going to go on record for the world to see. You're going to tell the people that everything you have ever said about me and my people is a lie. That you made it all up to get attention and celebrity. Your life was perfect before you left. You are a liar and you can't keep the lies anymore and if you don't do as I say she'll be dead within 48 hours" .

[justjules23-blog]

Task 35: A Day in the Life.

Warmth. Sunshine, hot white spilled across the bedroom floor, it's rays reaching out like finger tips to gently touch the cheeks of a sleeping brunette who lay stretched out across the California king bed of movie director August Jameson. Hazel eyes fluttered open as her arm reached out, finding the spot in the bed next to her to empty. A pout formed on her lips when she realized that she had the enormous bed all to herself. Pushing herself up on her elbows she blinked against the light that streamed through the oversized windows. Turning her head she looked at the little clock on the bedside table, it's red numbers showing the time was just creeping towards seven a.m. "Hmm", she said through pursed lips. It was still early so she could only assume her lover had had some sort of business to attend to. She never questioned it because at the end of the day he always came home to her.

Wrapped in silk sheets, Juliet scooted to the edge of the bed. Her bare feet dangling just inches from plush, white carpet. Leaving the sheets behind she moved to the window of the high rise condominium, her naked frame reflecting in the glass. Sometimes she considered moving into a small condo or hotel to avoid the constant media scrutiny, but with views like the one she was taking in she always shook that thought off pretty quickly. With a final look at the Surrey skyline Juliet moved back to the nightstand to grab her phone and across the room into the enormous bathroom. "Hello beautiful", said greeted her reflection, like she did every morning.

Nearly an hour later she stepped out of the shower, scrunching her hair dry with the bath towel as she crossed to the vanity where her phone had just begun to ring. "Laney, good morning", she called out to her assistant, placing the phone on the vanity and turning on the speaker. "Good morning to you ma'am. Just wanted to run through your agenda today before it got too late", the other woman chirped. "Please do" , Juliet responded as she began to out on her face. "Right then, interview with Holly and Philip on This Morning at 10:15, brunch with Wynter Kingsley to discuss her performance for the MTV Movie Awards and then your free until the concert tonight at 7:30".

"Concert", Juliet asked, applying a ruby shade to her full pout. "Yes, the uh 30 Seconds to Mars concert, you asked me to purchase your VIP ticket last month, ma'am". The red lips spread into a great smile as the excitement set in. "Laney you are a fucking goddess! I completely forgot about the concert"! She could hear the giggle on the other line, the woman clearly pleased with herself. "A car will pick you up at 7 ma'am. If you need anything at all give me a shout", and with that the line had fallen silent. Juliet did a little happy dance in her seat, composed herself and then went back to her face.

By the time the car arrived at seven Juliet had been dressed and waiting. Her skinny jeans were snug, as was the throwback Echelon t-shirt she wore, her long locks twisted up in two piggies that her sweet Ella had always called 'fancy star wars twists'. Juliet's stomach flipped with excited energy as she made her way to the vip section by the stage, her phone out recording as Jared Leto crooned, stealing her heart. It was a moment that reminded her of exactly how incredible it was to live a day in the life of the future Mrs Juliet Jameson.

[justjules23-blog]

Task 34

"I smiled for the paparazzi until I couldn't anymore, and then I hit him... hard". 

The last few weeks had been so confusing and difficult to navigate for Juliet Lourd. First she was happily engaged and planning the wedding of the century and now she was stuck here in this weird limbo where she had no idea what was going on. Everybody blamed her for everything and never expected anyone else to admit to their wrong doings. Yes. She admitted, she had enjoyed herself during Fashion Week, but she hadn't touched a drop of alcohol around August. She knew better, she cared more than that. Then here comes his uppity ass mother Patrica blaming his relapse yet again, on her. His mother, his sister, his fans, her fans. It was all too much. She was trying to do the right thing here, helping Jessie with Elijah. Helping Jessie period. So what if they dated briefly ages ago? They had always been friends and Elijah was Ella's baby brother. He was all she had left. Why didn't anyone other than Jessie see that? 

Jessie was alone in the world and in constant chaos. Sure he had his lovers, but sex does not equal intimacy. Most of the time it's just sex. That's how it was for Jessie. It's how it had been for Jules after August so many years ago. She loved him with all her heart. Despite whatever the tabloid sites were claiming, he was her soulmate. She had believed that since she was a little girl, but she couldn't just take the blame. She couldn't fix him. She was helpless where he was concerned and so she buried herself in a situation she thought she could fix. And taking Eli, that helped calm her. It helped Jessie. It should have helped August. Now she was beginning to feel a little bit too much like Britney in 2007. 

Leaving her mother's new home in Chelsea after the gala for Lincoln Rochester, which she felt horrible about leaving so soon, but couldn't take the accusations that came from Wynter Kingsley, she stepped on to the side walk cradling a sleeping Elijah Taylor to her chest. It took only seconds for the blood sucking paparazzi to be there, shoving his camera at her and throwing his accusations. She forced herself to move, opening the back door and placing the sleeping infant safely inside of his car seat before closing the door. "Don't you have anything to say to your fans? They all want to know why you've turned your back on August. They want to know why you're suddenly so interested in the well being of Jessie Taylor. Are you two shagging behind Jameson's back"? 

She tried to ignore it. Moving around the suv to the driver's side she reached for the handle but he just kept taunting her. He just wouldn't shut up. Finally she spun on him, a smile on her face. "You don't know anything about the situation and neither does anyone else so kindly piss off". She turned again but he just kept talking and before she had even realized she was swinging on him. She had put her entire body behind it, her fist connecting with his mouth, causing him to stumble back, nearly toppling over. When he looked back up there was blood trickling from his lip and anger in his eyes. Quickly she jumped into the vehicle, throwing the engine into drive before peeling out into the street. She couldn't take much more. She was going to break and then who would they have to blame?

[justjules23-blog]

Trendsetter

New York Fashion Week, September 2017 

If this past New York Fashion Week had an MVP, it would be Juliet Lourd, the fresh faced music producer who's hits are already topping the charts. Shes as sweet as she's got swagger and definitely takes the cake as far as fashionista goes this season. Appearing in the front rows at shows like Helmut Lang, Fenty x Puma, and Christian Siriano, she sent photographers into a frenzy, while her latest production, a hit recorded by the queen of pop herself, provided the soundtrack to the finale at Chromat. And she helped the queen bring the house down with a performance at Alexander Wang’s Brooklyn #Wang Party, generating enough raw enthusiasm to make guests forget the hour they’d just spent standing in pens waiting for the show to begin. 

It’s that energy that sets Juliet apart from her contemporaries. While she may have gotten initial exposure thanks to a stint on Just us Kids, the after school television sensation, she has since become a star in the music industry and a bona fide fashion influencer. With a taste for pieces from Gucci, Versace, and Saint Laurent, she updates her millions of followers regularly with unconventional outfit snaps and cheeky videos. Eager to not just wear the latest trends but to set them, she gravitates toward an in-your-face aesthetic. 

“Scorpios like to take risks!” she said with a smile during a visit to Vogue’s offices. “I want to wear me. I want to wear something where people go, ‘Why is this bitch wearing a rectangle? Why does she have on a bra made of weed?’ ” With the help of stylist Kollin Carter, Jules has channeled her love of couturé fashion into a distinctive look that can move seamlessly from sneakers and jeans during off-duty days back home in the London to gilded gowns like the one she wore at last night’s Diamond Ball. After her controversial upbringing In what she has self dubbed a cult from hell, to her time playing runner up to the likes of Brittany Spears and Christina Aguleria, Lourd has never let anything stand in her way.

Always the out spoken one to watch, she has never been the one to self-censor. No matter the situation, she delivers her opinions with wit and irreverence—two qualities that are always refreshing during fashion month. With the recent opening of her studio House of Lourd, in the UK we can only hope that Lourd continues to slay us with her musical chops and spot on fashion.

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Journal Entry 43.

What is one of the benefits of an assistant whose mom is a nurse at Evelina London Children's Hospital? Well, upon telling her about my idea for starting Camp Downbeat (A summer music camp for under privileged children), she invites me to her hospital to brighten up the kids in the cancer ward.

It’s hard to believe that I haven’t tried doing this yet. I guess I just didn’t think of it. And if I did, I assumed non-family visitor rules would make it impossible.

So, one evening we went to the hospital and I gave it a try. I couldn’t help but think of Ella as I entered the hospital. A hospital, especially one like this, is the last place a parent wants their child to be.

At the hospital there were different rooms for patients with different conditions. Some were based on age, like the room of babies with cancer which absolutely destroyed me on the inside, others were for the kind of cancer involved.

When we got to the cancer ward the nurse, named Macy (yes, she’s aware there’s a department store named in her honor in the U.S.), took me around.

I put on my happy face not knowing what to expect and dove in… or took the plunge to put it more appropriately.

I spoke to each kid, most directly in English, some through the nurse or my assistant who could translate English/French. I asked typical questions like how old they were, how they feel, when they get to leave, etc.

All the kids were in the process of undergoing chemotherapy and many came from cities and towns several hours away. That means that many of them didn’t have family there with them, or had a tiny contingent of their family with them. Tough.

I did my best to be wowed with everything they told me, and to be  honest, I was wowed. When I was their age I never had to deal with anything like what they’re going through.

Wait, I HAVE NEVER HAD TO DEAL WITH ANYTHING REMOTELY LIKE WHAT THEY’RE GOING THROUGH. For them, for whatever reason, they were wowed by me since I’m what they called famous, they'd seen me on their televisions. But the real inspiration came from their side. So young, so strong, so much will to live. It was incredible.

The hardest part about the experience was the room of babies. I've lost two of my own before I even got to hold them and of course our sweet Ella. One baby was 23-days-old, had some kind of cancer, and where its bottom should be was… I don’t know how else to describe it other than to say its insides were on the outside.

The other babies didn’t have physical signs of cancer, but all were fighting for their lives. It killed me.

The older kids did their best to hide their ailments. That’s quite a task when some were missing arms and legs as the cancer ate what it could and, to save the whole, parts were sacrificed.

I am not sharing this with anyone else because I'm not aiming to get a pat on the back. I don't want publicity for this. I just want to remember my experiences and remind myself how easy it is to brighten other peoples’ day. You can call this volunteering if you want, but the point I want to make is that it doesn’t take much to make a difference. Money is not the end all.

No, I didn’t cure the cancer in these kids. But I made them smile and offered a diversion from the norm. I even told them about Downbeat and they're all so excited to come next year. I hope and pray that they can. I know it’s not much, but it really helped me. I plan to continue volunteering and trying to figure out how to serve humanity in a meaningful way after this and I'm going to encourage others to go out there and see how they can make a difference – even if it’s just making some physically sick (but mentally strong) kids smile. Every little bit of positivity helps, more so than anyone can imagine.

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JustJules23@hotmail.com

I know I shouldn't have been by myself. August had even insisted that I keep security with me since his father's release, but I guess I didn't feel like I needed protecting from Tatum or anyone else for that matter. I chaulked it up to Augie being over protective. It was something he was often. Besides that, I had recently purchased myself a tazer and pepper spray. I was prepared for Tatum.

What I hadn't been prepared for was what followed after I entered the subway station in Surrey near my home. I was approached by a female. She was slim and short in stature. She looked a little bit like me, but her hair was shorter. She told me that she was working for the Order and that my joining forces with Brielle Silva had them infuriated. They knew that Brielle had nearly single handedly brought down a group of individuals with a lot more pull than they had and they wanted to make a deal.

It was stupid. I know that, but what other option did I have in that moment II knew August would be furious. He was pissed that I had even gone to Brielle about the Order without telling him, but I knew that he'd never tell me yes if I asked for permission. So I did what I had to do. The girl told me that she could take me to my sister and they would let her go if I agreed to stop the production of the new documentary. I told her I wanted to see Susie first. Of course she obliged, but I had to leave my phone behind so I couldn't be traced to their location, at least until they were back in the states.

She took me on the subway to Waterloo and into a hotel where she assured me I would be able to see my sister. When we got into the hotel room there was only an open laptop. I sat down at the desk and a live stream began to play. The man on the screen was my uncle. The uncle. He told me that unless I stop the production of the film and the investigation my entire family, apart from my father and himself of course, would be dealt with. He threatened not only my family in the Order, but my mother. I was able to shortly video chat with Suzanna before the camera went dark. At least she was alive. That was some relief.

I hadn't even noticed that the woman who lead me to the room was behind me until everything went black. When I woke up hotel staff was there, as were the police. I'm fine. This isn't going to phase me. I am however bringing my mother back to London so that my security team can keep her safe. They just don't know what threatening my family did for their cause. I'm home now. August is furious and hasn't spoken to me since hugging me and then shouting about my being careless. It'll pass.

I know he was just concerned and I should have told someone, but there was no time for that. I apologise to anyone who worried about me today, but you have to know that this is just the beginning of this fight. I won't bow to cowardly pedophiles who think issuing threats or asserting their big boy dominance will get them their way. You lost control of me a long time ago. No one tells me what to do now. I am my own boss and I make my own rules. Hurt my sister or anyone else and it'll be the second biggest mistake you've made. The first? Underestimating me.

[justjules23-blog]

Amaretto Sour

“Good evening! Could I get an Amaretto Sour, just a little cherry juice, please!”

 Juliet Lourd let out a sigh of relief as she sat down on the bar stool in the almost empty hotel bar of the ‘Hilton Los Angeles’ and put her elegant black leather purse on the seat next to hers. It was three o’clock in the morning and she had spent the last six hours at a gala event, smiling and chatting with producers and actors, posing for the paparazzi as she did her best to promote Wynter Kingsley's latest hit. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had fun at first, but after a while the events and smiling tended to get exhausting. 

She had longed for a drink for over three hours now, just something to take the edge off, but all she had been able to score was a glass of champagne. Even if she had managed to get her hands on more, she couldn’t have drunk it. It was a publicity event after all and getting smashed or even tipsy wasn’t an option if you wanted to be taken serious as a music producer in a male dominated industry. 

So she had waited, she had smiled and she had talked to rude people for hours, wishing she was somewhere else until she finally found that she had done her duty and had fled the scene back to her hotel where she decided to reward her discipline with a drink or two at the ‘Hilton’s’ hotel bar. She wishes that August could have come, but he too had a career. It was part of the sacrifice. 

Smiling she thanked the bartender as he slid a tumbler filled with a honey-colored liquid over to her. Picking it up she closed her eyes and took a whiff, enjoying the sweet scent for a moment before taking a small sip. Savoring the sweet and sour tang on her tongue she felt the stress-related tenseness fall off her body and felt herself relax. 

After a moment she opened her eyes, a small smile on her lips as realization hit home that she had survived the evening. She glanced into the mirror behind the bar and allowed herself for a moment to indulge in the narcissism of admiring her own reflection. She had really brought out the big guns tonight. Her luxurious brunette hair fell in soft, smooth waves down to her shoulders, framing her stunning face. She had gone easy on the make up, a light shade of pink lipstick and a subtle amount of mascara that highlighted her stunning hazel eyes. 

The dress she had picked out for the occasion was something spectacular: a small, black piece that hugged every curve of her toned body, the plunging neckline revealing a good amount of cleavage and the short hem displayed a generous amount of her olive toned thighs. To round the whole thing off she wore a pair of black four inch heels that killed her feet by now, but did a great job accentuating her legs and butt. 

She smirked as she turned her upper body a little, watching how the shadows played in her décolleté. The dress really did a great job presenting her small b-cups, making sure they caught attention. Overall she had to say the whole evening had been a success, her attire making sure that the names ‘House of Lourd’ and ‘Juliet Lourd’ would be all over the tabloids tomorrow. 

Satisfied Juliet took a look around. The hotel bar was almost empty, a few stray guests had a good night drink, but most of them just sat by themselves and kept quiet. However she caught a few guys who had watched her in secret, quickly looking away to avoid her eyes. She grinned and shook her head. It wasn't anything new. Most normal men were intimidated by her. August wasn't a normal man though. He had never been intimidated by her. Only proud of her. God she missed him. Had it really only been two days?

 When she finished her drink, ready to order another one, the barkeeper placed an already filled glass in front of her. Surprised she looked at him. “From the gentlemen over there,” he said simply and nodded towards his left. “Oh, thank you!” the brunette smiled and nodded before turning towards her benefactor. The sight of the man who sat at the end of the bar immediately brought a bright smile to her face. 

Even from the distance she recognized him. She would recognize him anywhere. His grin stretched up to his eyes, which gleamed darkly in his face. Without speaking he lifted his glass causing Juliet to take her own drink and stand, moving towards him. "August Jameson, you sneak" she beamed before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. "What can I say", he grinned. "I missed my girl".

[justjules23-blog]

Dear Me

My therapist says that it's good to set goals for yourself and according to him I've pretty much given up on any future plans since Ella's passing. He keeps giving me these 'homework assignments'. The first being this journal, which I'll admit, now that I'm actually doing it, I don't hate. My first assignment is to write a letter to my future self. I guess here goes nothing.

Dear Me, future me, older but still insanely attractive me:

In my time we just got engaged to the only man we've ever loved. There's no way of knowing what trials or troubles that you and August have faced this far, but I know in my bones that you're still a family. I hope he hasn't relapsed or gotten arrested for killing Enzo Tatum, but I hope that he did kill him. I hope that his death was brutal and excruciatingly slow. I hope this because I know that as long as their father is still alive August will never be able too move on and Wynter will always be looking over her shoulder, waiting. I hope it because little Ella deserves her justice too.I hope you never forgot always and forever. I hope that you got to watch your sperm donor die too and that your siblings are finally free and that those child raping pieces of shit in the Order are finally where they belong. I pray that God gave you a baby or two of your own because you were such a good mommy to Ella and it almost destroyed us when we had our first miscarriage, and dealing with the second one all alone because I knew that Augie couldn't handle, it was hell. I hope that House of Lourd has become so insanely popular that we finally run our own conglomerate. I hope that we have other producers working for us. Because we fucking deserve it. Anytime you feel like you can't make it I want you to think back to the very first time you heard your track playing on the radio and remind yourself how God Damn awesome you really are. If you have a daughter tell her she's beautiful every single day and that she doesn't need anyone to be successful, but also that it's okay to be a team player and to ask for help. Tell her how she had a big sister that God needed more. I hope her middle name is Ella. Don't ever forget that baby. She saved your life, she saved his life too. Be grateful and remember that no matter what, you're the fucking queen!

[justjules23-blog]

Task 29

While I've never been secretive about where I come from I have tried to keep my attempt to help others escape quite. I keep it quiet for fear that if my efforts come to light I will be blocked at every corner or those I'm trying to help, my siblings, my cousins, will be punished or hidden from me and that's the last thing I want. About two months ago I received a response from the letter I sent to my father. He told me that I had deserved everything I got. That I was a bad girl and that eventually all bad girls get punished. But I'm not a ten year old little girl anymore and I am not afraid for myself. 

I'm afraid for those who are still stuck inside the Order. For those still held captive in Utah. Shortly after Ella's passing I received another letter. This letter had no return address or name. Upon opening the letter I discovered that the adressie was my seventeen year old half sister, Suzanna. She told me that she watched me on the internet while she was working at the church. She would sneak into the elder's office and use their computer while she was supposed to be working. I know from personal experience that getting caught breaking the rules can lead to extreme action. She doesn't care. 

She asked me if I could help her get out. If she could come live with me. She told me she was sorry for my loss. It was the first time anyone had acknowledged that I too had lost Ella. I told her that I would. I wired her money for clothes, bought her plane ticket. I had a burner phone sent to the western union pickup so she could call me. We had set a date. A day when our father and most of the Order would be meeting others like themselves for their annual get together. We were ready. 

I woke this morning knowing that today was the day. I had been so secretive that even August knew nothing. When working against a group of vipers like the Order you have to move quickly and methodically. I believed that we had done just that, but I was wrong. When I woke up this morning I expected to have a text message from my sister, telling me that she had made her way safely to our chosen location. What I received was a picture message of my sister, blindfolded and gagged. The caption told me that I would never see her again. 

I know they won't kill her. They'll only make her wish she was dead. Because of me. I'll likely never find her because those in the Order work like a well oiled machine. I can only hope she sticks to our back up plan. That she does exactly what she's told, regains their trust and escapes again. I don't bother going to the authorities because it would only make it worse for her. Instead I wait and I plot because soon I will be returning to Utah. I'll do whatever it takes to bring them down and free my sister. Soon.

[justjules23-blog]

Task 28

I was young, inexperienced in the world and utterly naïve when I came to London. I wanted fame and fortune and I had heard that London was the new, classy version of LA. I loved LA, but I hated the paparazzi. I thought moving to London I could focus on my music career and help people like Wynter Kingsley and Drew Cohen make their own careers soar, but I had it set in my mind that London would never be home to me. Nothing could replace Los Angeles in my heart. And then it did. It feels like it happened over night, some freak thing that happened where I woke up and just knew I never wanted to be anywhere else. But it wasn't over night. It was slowly and then all at once. 

I knew I was home when I saw August Jameson in that small hidden cafe. It had to have been fate. I mean you need to climb two narrow sets of dimly lit stairs in an unassuming backstreet building,  but rumor had it that it was best that way, as it kept the riff raff, aka the paparazzi, out of the properly bohemian hideaway. I'd only been there twice, but i loved that the cameras couldn't follow me. It was homely, artsy and more than a little eccentric and a great place to enjoy a pot of tea, which I also discovered I loved with milk. Wild, right? Anyway, picture this. You're sitting there in this cafe you assume no one in the lime light would ever frequent and then you hear a voice that you'd recognize anywhere. There he was looking like a regular statue of Adonis reminding me of just how much I loved him. It didn't take long for his heart to become my home. 

London was being so kind to me. I fell in love with August and his daughter. I officially opened my own studio and I made friends with people I never imagined in a million years that I'd be unable to live without. Candid Cafe, August Jameson, my beautifully disastrous friends, my studio House of Lourd. My new home in Surrey, my sweet stray kitten, Theodora. Their all big parts of why London is my home, but mostly it's the fact that I finally have a peace in my heart. Even after all I've lost, all I've been through. London has always stood strong and beautiful and I know that no matter what London goes through it will remain the same. London is my home.

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Task 26.

July 19, 2018.

And then, the letter fell into the mailbox, just one of the many that waited to arrive at their final destinations. For weeks Juliet had been considering exactly how she could reach out to those she and her mother had been forced to leave behind. It was nearly two am when it finally hit her. Sitting down at the desk in August Jameson 's guest house she picked up a pencil and began to write. Initially she had only intended to write one letter. Just one, but when she had finished, dropping the pencil upon the desk, there were 14 folded letters. One to each of the siblings she left behind. One to her father. 

Dear Warren, I hope you're ready for this. Truly ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life with you and your cult of pedophiles ended. When I was just a little girl I had no idea that you were a bad man, that the other men in my life were bad men. I was so small and sheepish and innocent. I trusted that you, my father, would protect me from harm. I believed that you loved me and that your love would always keep me safe. I'm sad because I was wrong. Even though I was youngest, younger than the others, younger than the norm. I was ten years old when you took me to my first "dance". I use the word dance loosely because we both know that it was more of an auction. Selling young girls to the highest bidder. You so called fathers dressed us up in our best dresses and paraded us into the auditorium where the Order could pick and choose who they wanted. It was your 42 year old brother who wanted me. He picked me, his niece, his blood, from the crowd and you allowed it. You let him take me away that night even though I was crying, begging you to save me. You turned your back on me. Do you know what happened to me when he got me back to his house? If course you don't, but you will now. He made me take off my best dress. He told me that by following his instructions I was making God happy. I listened, but I still cried. I cried when he lifted me off my feet and laid me upon his bed. I cried when his calloused hands roamed my body. I cried when his fingers entered my body. Eventually I stopped crying. Even when it hurt and there was blood. When he dropped me off at home the next morning and told you I was going to be his favorite wife you acted so proud, but I was broken. Mother knew. She saved me. You failed to do the only job you had. Protecting your children. You failed and one day you will receive your punishment from God. I only hope that I'm around to see it.

Truly free, Nora Kingston

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Task 27

July 24, 2018.

Hiraeth (n.)A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

For the last few days all Juliet Lourd had wanted was a redo. She wanted to be home in her cozy bed with the love of her life sleeping peacefully on the opposite side, snuggled up against her tiny little bed buddy, listening to the rain. Home. She wanted to be home, but she couldn't go home and even if she could what kind of home would she be going back to? She would never be able to look at 1223 Privot Drive the same way. It was tainted. Ruined. She just wanted a redo. 

Sitting in the car outside of the funeral home all she could think was that she wanted to go home. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to walk inside and hug people or have them look at her with pity or judgment. Yes judgment. There were those like Weston Coleman and Patricia Jameson who would not look at her with sadness. Instead they would look at her with hatred or blame. Weston she understood. He was out of the loop. He had been since Meredith left, but Patricia had no right. 

Tears began to fall again, uncontrollabe now as the anger bubbled up in her chest. How dare that woman accuse her of being responsible! Juliet had done everything she could possibly do. Her ruined clothes that lay folded in the backseat, ruined by the blood of a five year old little girl that she never knew it was possible to love so much. Ruined clothes that she couldn't bring herself to wash or throw away because it was all that was left of her little ray of sunshine. It was all that was left of home. Of the little girl that should have been hers. 

She couldn't breathe now. The tears were too much to take. Her breath ragged as she gasped for air. She wanted to go home. God dammit she needed a redo. She wanted to walk into the wake and slap Patricia Jameson across her judgy face. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. "IT WAS YOU THAT FAILED HER! IT WAS YOUR FAULT! IT WAS YOU HE WANTED! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOUR SACRIFICE! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU"! 

Instead, she dabbed at her eyes, brushed her hair from her face and climbed from the SUV, locking it behind her. August and her mother had tried to get her to ride with them, but she knew that she needed to be alone. Emotions were raw and the wrong things would be said. He didn't need that now. He needed her. Even though she hated herself just as much as she hated his mother. He needed her. Right now she was all he had of home and so she put on her best sympathetic face and entered the building. 

When everyone else had gone and the men in charge had left them alone Juliet remained by his side. When both of their mother's left together. When they were left alone with a little girl who could just as easily have been sleeping. When he finally fell apart again she was there. Her arms holding onto him so tightly that she was afraid it might hurt. In that moment she realized that while right now she was his home, he had always been hers. It was the most painful realization, second only to realizing that Ella would never get to come home again.

[justjules23-blog]

Shots Ring Out pt 2

July 23, 2018

Juliet sat quietly beside August in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity. She knew better than anyone that what he needed was time to process. Her head was down, her arms folded across her knees. She had been in nearly the same position all night. Neither of them had bothered to move, stoney still like statues in waiting. The sun, beaming through the large windows warmed her back and shoulders, but it had also caused August to stir. Juliet lifted her head only briefly to watch as he moved to the window, pacing now, before lowering her head again. It wasn't until she heard the footsteps shuffling against the marble floor that she dared to lift her eyes again. She knew it the second her eyes landed upon the worn face of the surgeon, his face mask still dangling round his neck. August too had read the man's face, instantly flying into a rage like she had never seen. Juliet was quick on feet when August slammed the doctor against the wall, but he had released him just as quickly, crumbling to the floor a broken man. As much as her heart ached for Ella she knew that her pain could never measure the agony he felt as he let out a guttural scream. The kind of scream you see in the movies, but this wasn't a movie. This was real life and there was nothing that she could do except sink to the floor beside him, silent as the tears streamed down an already tear stained face. She couldn't fix this. There was no way to make it better. No right thing to say. No bandaid to cover this wound. It was too large, too deep. Nothing, not even god could fix this now.

[justjules23-blog]

Shots Ring Out pt1

July 22, 2018. 

"Buckinghamshire 999, what is your emergency? Miss, Miss I need for you to calm down. I can't understand you. Take a few breaths. Try to calm down . I need to know..Miss be calm and tell me what happened.. Who's been shot? How old is she? Is she conscious? Miss is she breathing? Are you still there? Help is on the way.. Miss? Miss are there"..? It was a night like any other in the Jameson household, minus the fact that Augie's mother had been staying with them the last few weeks, since the news broke about who had actually been Augie's dad. Juliet had tried her best to let Patti tend to Ella's needs. It seemed to distract her from the fact that Enzo was still at large. Plus Ella seemed to worship the woman almost as much as Augie did. They quartet had only just finished their dinner when Augie's phone rang and he had to step out for an unexpected business meeting. Life as normal in the Jameson/Lourd world. Patricia, August's mother, had volunteered to give Ella her bath and bedtime story so after telling the little blonde goodnight and three goodnight kisses the music producer had exited the home through the back door and gone into the guest house, which August had set up as a makeshift recording studio so that she could work from home on the days he was away for work. She was in the middle of a listening to a demo for a new song she had been toying with, one she hoped Drew Cohen would take and make her own, when the sound of gunfire filled the air. Immediately she had taken cover, instinctively trying to protect herself. The second round however had pulled her from her hiding spot and set her feet to a run. Instant panic seized her as she remembered that Ella was home. "Oh god please", she prayed as she ran through the back door and into the kitchen, taking the back steps to the second floor two at a time. Before she had even made it halfway she could hear Patricia's frantic screams coming from the hallway just outside of Ella's princess room. "He's gone..he ran". Jules had just reached the eldest Jameson when she saw the gunshot wound in her arm. "Where is she!? Where is Ella? God dammit Patti where is she"? The brunette screamed as she pushed past the hysterical woman and into five year old Ella Jameson's bedroom. In less time than it took to blink sheer panic had gripped her heart. The little girl was crumpled, face down, covered in a dark red substance that could only be blood. The smell of copper filled her nostrils as she pulled the child into her arms, applying pressure to the wound in her chest. With her free hand she immediately dialed the emergency response number, screaming for help into the receiver. "Please..please help she's been shot! .... Ella, Ella it's okay baby. It's okay. Don't go to sleep okay? Don't go to sleep. Look at me, okay baby. Please.. Please she's been shot! 12..1223 Privot drive.. Oh my god, oh my god Ella baby. Its okay. You're gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay. You're okay baby girl. You're okay... She's five god dammit, she's five. Oh god, oh god there's so much blood... Please god..oh god please.. Please.. Please hurry. Please".