Hey you ever hear that story, Goldilocks and the three bears? Yeah? Well that's me. Goldilocks and I'm going to tell you what really happened.

First off, I'm NOT blonde. I'm a red head. Why is my name Goldilocks? It ain't. It's Gillian Lockhart. And I was 15 at the time.

Now the three bears aren't actual bears. They're three normal humans who just happen to have the last name 'Bears'. Get it? Frank Bears (dad), Maria Bears (Mother) and Frank Bears Jr. (Son). Now little Frankie was 16 and we were dating. Okay. Things starting to make sense now? Thought so.

The Bears family didn't live in a forest. They lived in a gated community (One of those places with curfews and all that other crap) called Forest Green about an hour drive from my place.

Now the Bears house is made so as soon as you walk in you're in the kitchen. The stairs up to the rooms are on the right side was the door to their sitting room. Trust me. You need to know this.

Okay. So the night before then whole thing with the porridge, Frankie took me on a date. For some reason Frankie took me to his house instead of mine after the date. Now my folks were out of town but his weren't so I was a little worried but didn't care. It's not like anything was going to happen.

WRONG.

So he takes me to the sitting room and he sits on 'his' chair - this rickety old thing he's had since he was eight - and puts on his lap. Then we start making out, fooling around, you know when suddenly the chair beneath us collapses. I'm ready to swear up a storm - when faster than I've enter seen him do anything - he grabs me bridal style, rushes up the stairs, goes all the up to his room (the attic) shoves me in and rushes back down.

It takes me a minute or two to realize WTF just happened before I go creeping back down the stairs. The door to the sitting was open just enough for me to see the whole room from where I was.

Frankie is laying there, some sort of tangled mess of limbs and broken chair and his father was standing there scratching his head muttering, "We'll find something to tell your mother." I crept back upstairs.

When Frankie comes upstairs he looks at his clock and mumbles, "Too late to drive." I realized he was right. It was too late to drive. The gates were shut and my house was too far a walk from here. I got a little nervous. I ain't ever spent the night in a guy's house that wasn't blood. Now I'm not saying I'm pure or any shit like that but I wasn't sure if I even liked him like that.

As I opened my mouth, he picked me up bridal style for the second time that night and laid me on his bed. He plucked off my shoes and took off my sweater. Before I could say anything, he covered me with one of his blankets, planted a swift peck on my forehead, grabbed his extra sheet and pillow and climbed of the bed.

"What are you doing?" I asked him confused. He looked at me, equally confused, and said, "Sleeping on the floor." I blinked at him pulled him by the arm and kissed him. Hard.

When I finished he was breathing hard. "What the hell was that for?" he asked.

"That was me deciding I like you." I said laying on his chest. I don't any girl has had a good night sleep until they fall asleep to heavy breathing and an erratic heart.

When I woke up, there was a note on the table.

'Morning walk. Be back soon.
Eat my food in Kitchen.
Stay in Attic.

-Frankie

I put o my shoes and my sweater. I went down to the kitchen. I paused. There were three bowls of food.

Three.

Which one was his?

I picked up a spoon and took a spoonful from the biggest bowl. "Oww!" I screamed. What the hell! It was like eating fire.

I went to the medium sized bowl. Eww. It was cold. Who likes cold porridge?

The smallest bowl, the one I would've least thought was Frankie's, was a nice tempeture so I ate it. I didn't just leave the bowl there. I washed and put it on the rack. But I was full. I couldn't make it all the way up the stairs yet.

I went in the sitting room. Frankie's broken chair was still there. I stumbled over to his dad's chair but – Got Damn – that chair was hard! I sat on his mom's chair. Softest. Chair. Ever.

After a while I went back upstairs. Halfway up, I really had to go to the bathroom and I wasn't about to wait.

I rushed into the nearest room. It was a real manly man room. I sat on the bed and rocked back and forth. I looked around. No bathroom. Shit.

I ran out and entered another one. Pinkest. Room. Ever. Again I sat on the bed and rocked back and forth. No bathroom. Seriously?

I ran out and went into the last room. Sanctuary!

When I came back upstairs, I sat on Frankie's bed. I thought about last night and smiled. He was too sweet. Most guys wouldn't have thought twice about sleeping in their bed with their girl. It didn't even enter his mind. And not because he didn't want to. I laid on his bed and smiled into his pillow, remembering the sounds of his breathing and heart beating. I was almost asleep when something hit me.

What kind of marital issues do you need to suffer from to not only sleep in separate beds, but separate rooms?

I woke up to someone screaming, "Frankie! Someone's sleeping in your bed!" His mom.

Shit.

"Um..Yeah." I said. "I'm GoldLock! I break into people's houses and uh… eat their food, trash their place and…. Sleep in their beds?"

The three stared at me weird. "Um… You'll never catch me alive!" And then I proceeded to jump out the window. How I didn't die or at least break something, I don't know. I ran out of there and hitch hiked a ride back home.

Well it's been years since then and Frankie and I are now engaged and because his parents are both blind with out there glasses they didn't know it was me. And I'll be damned if they found out after all these years, so let keep this in between us. Ok?