I had a lot of people asking me whatever happened to Lobelia Aster from the first generation. She was the crazy lady who blew up Lucy’s home, and killed her husband Sam. So I decided to do a little story about what happened to her after Sam’s death, which was never fully explained. I was just going to add something small in the generation 1 epilogue, but decided to give her a proper send off. I hope this satisfied all who were curious about what happened to Lobelia. I hope you aren’t disappointed.
This story is MAJOR 18+ as it is very violent, and definitely does not have a happy ending. If fictional violence, and swear words bother you, please don’t read–you have been warned. LOL, but I figured if I was going to do Lobelia’s story, I was going to go all out….
Lobelia Aster was a sim created for me when I held a contest for a bad girl from Lucy’s past. This was the winning submission, and was created by Xylorta-XV. Thanks for the sim! And I’m sorry for the pain and suffering she is going to endure…
If you are a new reader and have no clue who Lobelia is. You can start HERE
This happens directly after the death of Sam….Chapter 1.10
It’s great to be home. I thought to myself as I stepped off the platform at the train station. Bridgeport was where I belonged. Life on legacy Island had been dull. It was a mistake in going, but it was something I had to do, I told myself.
I went to legacy island for revenge, and revenge alone. And I was successful on that front. In fact, too successful If I was honest with myself.
As I headed towards town my mind went back to last week…
It had been hard to see Lucy so happy knowing she had ruined Robs life. Lucy was doing so well for herself that my stomach turned with jealousy. I doubt she even gave Rob a passing thought now that she was married to Mr. Perfect, Sam Lockwood.
During the night, I had drained the brake fluid in Sam’s vehicle. I had assumed he would crash, and that would be it. I never intended for him to die. Murder just wasn’t my style, I’d rather keep them alive and watch them suffer! I was shocked the next day when I found out that Sam had crashed, and as a result, died of his injuries.
Life in legacy island after the death of Sam was near impossible with the attention on me for not only Sam’s death, but the explosion that had rocked Lucy’s house. Again, my handiwork. Part of me wanted to stay and watch Lucy suffer in misery, but the other half of me knew that If I stayed and caused any more trouble, I’d end up in Jail, and I did not look good in orange…
I found myself in front of a run down apartment building along the docks in the poor part of town. I really had no where else to go, and I was hoping my old friend Honey would take me in.
“Who is this?” A suspicious voice asked when I pressed the buzzer.
“Lobelia. Can I come up?”
“How many Lobelia’s do you know, jesus, let me in already!” I said testily. Geez, Honey was as dumb as a stump!
The buzzer sounded and up I went…
I knocked on her door, and Honey threw open the door and engulfed me in a huge hug.
“Lobelia, its been so long!” She said. “I heard you got into some trouble in Legacy island.”
“Yeah, but that bitch Lucy deserved everything she got after what she did to Rob.” I said narrowing my eyes.
“Are you still on that?” Honey asked crossing her arms across her chest. “Its been years, give it up already.”
“I never will.” I said truthfully. “You look good, have you lost weight?” I asked looking Honey up and down, changing the subject. My past deeds on Legacy Island was not something I felt like discussing, nor my hatred of Lucy Gallagher. Honey was known for a lot of things, but keeping her mouth closed wasn’t one of them. I snickered at the double entendre, as Honey was also a prostitute by trade.
I looked at Honey, she really had changed since I seen her last. She used to be pretty chunky, but she had lost a lot of weight. Looks like she was still hooking though. I guess some things never change, I thought with a laugh. Honey didn’t grow up in a foster home like Lucy, Rob, and I, she grew up with strung out parents with a sick sense of humor, naming her Honey when her last name was Potts. Well I guess they looked ahead and knew their pride and joy would grow up to be a stripper, and a prostitute, and wanted to give her a fitting name, I thought.
“So anyways.” I said. “I need a place to stay. Can I crash with you for a while?”
Honey looked down at her tacky stripper heals. “Well…” She began fumbling with her words.
“I don’t really have room and-” I cut her off. “I can sleep on the couch.”
“Please, you owe me.” I said trying to keep my famous temper in check.
“How the hell do I owe you?” Honey asked me, getting right up in my face. I glared at her, enjoying the way fear clouded her eyes. Bitch better get out of my damn face! I thought.
“Remember the time your pimp beat the shit out of you and Rob and I beat him up for you?” You probably deserved it, I thought wickedly.
Honey sighed, “Fine. I guess you can stay. For a little bit at least.”
I smiled in satisfaction. I had always been good at getting exactly what I wanted.
“Great. Thanks Honey. You’re an awesome friend. I need one more favor from you. I need a job. I’m so broke I can’t even pay attention, and I spent my last cent getting home to Bridgeport. Can you get me a job at the strip club. I can host, or cook.”
“Girl. We aren’t hiring. But I can talk to Tony. He’s always looking for another girl.” I grimaced, Tony was her pimp. And I was a lot of things, but a prostitute was not one of them. But this was desperate times, and I needed cash, and needed it fast, so I agreed.
“Tony wont have a thing to do with you if we don’t touch up those roots and get you something new to wear.” She eyed me up and down. “We look to be around the same size, you can borrow one of my dresses.”
One bottle of hair dye later, Honey had me plucked, and styled within an inch of my life. She let me borrow a skimpy tight black dress, the side panels were meshed and exposed more of my body then I would have liked. But as I spun around in front of Honey, I had to admit that I looked hot.
A week later I was out on my first job. My stomach was a bundle of nerves as I walked out to the waiting car.
“Hey honey.” I said in what I hoped was a seductive voice. “Looking for a good time?”
“How much?” He asked. I bristled insulted. Way too much for you honey, I thought, but swallowed my words back.
“5o dollars an hour.” I said my hands on my hips. “Take it or leave it.” I glared.
“You got sass, I can’t wait to see what else you can do with your mouth.” He leered. I about puked in my mouth, and hoped I didn’t look as sick as I felt.
I looked around uneasily. Can I really do this? I thought to myself. I had a moment of clarity that in hindsight I should have listened to my gut. I could just walk away, right now, from everything. Walk away, and forget the past. Forget my stupid plans of revenge. I could start over, and make myself into someone I could be proud of…maybe one day have a family of my very own.
But I didn’t. With one last look around I opened the passenger side door and got in…
“What a dump.” I said looking around at the hotel he brought me too.
“I’m not paying you for your opinion.” He sneered at me. “Now shut your whore mouth and get on the bed.”
“Excuse me?” I said crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at him. Nobody talked to me that way, nobody.
“Do you want to get paid or not?” He yelled.
“Keep your pants on.” I said and began to strip out of my borrowed skimpy scrap of cloth.
I got on the bed and did a couple sexy moves, but instead of feeling sexy, I felt like a fool. The entire time he leered at me with a sick grin that made me sick inside.
I crawled off the bed and stood before him. “Why don’t you get in bed with me?” I purred.
“Did I say you could open your mouth slut?” He snapped at me. “Now get back on the bed and take off your clothes.”
“I’ll open my mouth if I damned well please, and this mouth isn’t going to close any time soon, in fact watch it open right now well I tell you to fuck off!” I stooped to grab my dress off the floor. Screw this, 50 dollars was no where enough to put up with this shit.
When I stood up dress in hand, I saw his fist flying towards my face. I tried to turn, but wasn’t fast enough. He hit me hard enough I saw stars.
I dropped to the floor on my knees feeling like I had just been hit by a mac truck. My eye throbbed like it was already starting to swell. Blood dripped onto the floor from my busted open lip.
“What the hell!” I yelled wincing in pain because of my split lip. “You couldn’t pay me enough money in the world to sleep with you now.” I yelled.
“You dirty filthy whore.” He spat at me. I felt something in me snap. I was not a whore!
I grabbed my purse on the floor and pulled out my gun, thankful that I had decided to stash it inside. I pointed it at him with one hand on my hip.
“Did you call me a whore?” I narrowed my eyes and stared at him.
“Put the gun down, your crazy.” He begged me, the tears in his eyes only fueling my rage.
If there was one thing I hated in the world, it was being called crazy. I closed my eyes and fired off a shot.
“You crazy bitch!” He cried backing away from me on the floor. The bullet had caught him in the shoulder, not a mortal wound, but still painful, blood dripped from the wound onto the floor.
“Don’t call me crazy!” I yelled and aimed and shot again!
He twitched for a couple of seconds, and went still. His head drooped down to his chest. I dropped to my knees, hitting the floor painfully.
Oh my god, what did I do? I thought my mind racing. I have to get out of here! I stood up, my legs knocking together. I threw on the dress over my underwear and stashed the gun in my purse.
I looked around with wide eyes as sirens sounded in the distance. There wasn’t time to clean up, I had to get out of here now!
I slammed the door to the hotel room shut and leaned against it breathing heavily. The sirens were getting closer and closer, I had to get out of here, and now!
I ran down the street in the opposite direction of the cop cars, taking a side road along the warehouse district. My heals echoing down the empty street loudly.
I ducked into the parking lot of an old abandoned building breathing heavily. My mind was racing. What the hell was I going to do now?
I looked up at the old brick building. The streets weren’t safe for me. I had to lay low. This wasn’t the Ritz Carlton, but it would be a place to sleep for the night, at least until I found someone who would take me in.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I had nightmares of the shooting all night long. I had never murdered anyone before, at least not directly.
The next morning I walked towards Honey’s apartment. I looked around before crossing the street. There were no cops, and everything was silent. I ran across the street and hurried inside.
I knocked on the door.
“Lobelia?” Honey said from inside.
“Let me in. Hurry.” I begged.
“Lobelia, the cops were here!” Honey said from behind the door. “Did you really shoot someone?”
“Let me in so I can explain. Please, at least let me get my things and I’ll leave. I promise.”
“I don’t want to be an accessory, please just leave.” Honey said tearfully from beyond the door.
I heard sirens, and I ran to the window and looked as the parking lot was swarming with police officers and squad cars. My heart sank.
“You stupid bitch! You called the cops on me!” I screeched grabbing a fistful of my blond hair in my hands and pulled. I kicked the door. “You stupid whore! This is your fault!” I yelled.
I looked up and down the hall knowing it would only be moments before I was arrested. I would not go to prison like Rob!
With desperate eyes I looked up and down the hall desperately looking for an exit. I heard footsteps on the stairwells. I knew it wouldn’t be long…
I grabbed my gun out of my purse and sank to the floor. I dropped my head onto my knees and cried.
“Lobelia Aster drop the gun!” An officer said walking towards me slowly. I looked up at him with tears streaming down my face. “I said drop it now!”
I couldn’t see, my eyes were so full of tears. I saw the officer coming towards me with his gun drawn. I put the gun to my head, whispered a prayer, and pulled the trigger.