Pure Punishment(17)

Needless to say, I didn’t argue with him. He made me feel cherished and on some level, loved. I knew the idea of him loving me was crazy. I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me.

“Take me to your room please,” I said in a small voice.

He stood up and placed a hand out for me and I took it without a second thought.

We had sex that night and I lost my virginity and it was painful. Nothing like the books I read where the guy gets the girl wet enough so it won’t be as painful or any of that. He placed a condom on and I lay back on the bed and he kissed me. Then the next moment he was inside me. I bit my arm to muffle my screams, but nothing worked. I could feel the tear and he didn’t stop. He was enjoying it. What was torture for me was heaven for him.

Once his body left mine, he went to the bathroom and I grabbed my dress and placed it back on. There was blood on the sheets. I contemplated cleaning it up and thought better of it. So, I ran out of there and never spoke a word to him again.

Since that last horrific sexual encounter, I’ve never slept with another man. It’s not like I don’t want to, I just don’t want to feel that cheap again. Used and abused.

Pushing those memories aside I pull out one of my books to get a head start on next week’s exam when I notice Julia walking my way. She’s wearing a fluorescent dress with ballerina flats and a face full of makeup. You would never guess that she’s a man from a distance because she is actually quite beautiful.

“Sugar, I want to take you out. We are going to get you laid, and yes I mean fucked. You can’t keep the cobwebs up there forever, and I want to see a smile on that face. So tonight, we are going drinking and scouting,” she adds with a wink. I can’t help but laugh at her.

She tries with me, tries to make me step out of my comfort zone. I love her for it, but some things aren’t meant to be done. Some people aren’t meant to step out from their comfort zones. Sometimes I think I’m one of those people. I should stay locked in my zone. But maybe, just maybe, I might break free.





Your brain generates enough electricity to power a light bulb.





“How about we play?” I suggest to the two eager men practically circling me like a dog. I can’t let this situation get out of hand and give them the upper hand. I must keep my head on straight at all times. Otherwise, one wrong move could serve me badly.

“I say, how about you shut up and just be the slut that you are,” number two sneers at me. I’m sick of him. I can’t play anymore let alone let him touch me.

I reach for my first star and aim it at number two. He’s the sickest one. He will fight the hardest; I can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t care who he hurts, and he will continue doing it all his life. My star hits him straight in his thigh. I watch as the pain slices through him and he drops to the floor. He looks down at what I’ve put there and smiles and pulls it out.

“I knew you weren’t a hooker. You have the same look in your eyes I have. You crave the blood, don’t you? You fucking love it? We are one of a kind, Kayla. We could do so much together.” He moves toward me with a wobbly step. I don’t answer him. There’s a part of me that craves it, and I love that, but he’s sick on a different level.

“I wouldn’t step closer, you might lose a penis.” I smile at him and show him my other star. This whole time, number one hasn’t moved. He’s watching us with curiosity written on his face. I wonder if he’ll like watching his friend die and not do a thing about it.

He laughs a menacing laugh at me and steps closer one more time. I don’t make threats I won’t keep. My star flies straight to his pants and hits the spot that brings him to his knees. I pull my gun from my small handbag and shoot him straight through the eye.

I turn around in time to see number one making a run for the door. My aim is perfect, my star pinning his hand to the door. He slowly turns around, holding his free hand up in a surrender of peace. I know better than to fall for his attempt at making peace. He is sick. He smiles at me when I drop the gun and I wonder why he isn’t screaming yet. His hand must be painful. He smirks at me and my blood boils, so I throw the other star into his hand that is still held up.

This time he does scream. He tries to move, but realizes that each movement only makes it worse.

I start to sing him a song, not to calm him down, but to amuse myself. He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, but he’s late to that party cause it was lost a long time ago.

I watch as the blood drips from his hands. I take joy in it, it’s hypnotizing. I want to sit here and watch as it creates its own puddle. Watch the beauty of the blood slowly tricking down. The sound is soothing and it calms my erratic heartbeat while I listen to it.