Story 3

She stared at him from her seat at the corner in the back of the class. He was talking to a girl sitting next to him. They always sat too close to him. She could not sit that close to him, at least not in the class. All girls were whores, trying to woo him, get him in bed with them. But he was not interested in them. She knew. She smiled.


He was just having a conversation with a girl sitting next to him but the girl was reading too much into it. He whispered something in the girl’s ear and the girl giggled. The next moment he turned around and their eyes met. He looked at her, acknowledged her presence in the class so what if she was sitting in the corner at the back. She smiled and he winked. She could feel her body temperature rising. Something wicked was happening to her; her breathing increased, she was trembling and her stomach did the somersault.


Then, she heard laughter. A girl few seats away from her was laughing. Foolish girl. The wink was not meant for that girl, it was meant for her. The professor was doing what he did everyday – blabbering. She could not hear the professor, all sounds were blocked by the music she could hear in her ears. It began to rain. She looked outside the window. It was one of the two reasons she sat in the corner at the back. The other reason was of course him. She could see him and no one could see what effect he had on her. She was the only person sitting in the last row. No one bothered to bother her. People left her alone, a few even called her weird in her face. She did not care. As long as he loved her, she did not care what other people thought of her.


The raindrops formed patterns on the glass window and amidst those patterns she saw them; him and her – together, their bodies entwined, making love. The ringing of the bell shook her out of visualization. Finally, the torture was over; it was time to go home. It was time when they could talk. One by one all the students walked out of the classroom. He walked out with the girl, holding the girl’s hand. The girl blushed and giggled as he planted a kiss on the girl’s cheek. Out in the hallway she spotted him near his locker, still talking to the girl he was sitting in the classroom with. It was time to make her presence known. Not that she was jealous of the girl, why would she be? This girl, like the many others was a whore trying to lay her hands on the trophy. But, the trophy was hers to keep. She walked towards his locker and said hi to him. He looked at her shocked, but did not say hi back. He closed his locker, shook his head and walked away. The whore giggled. It was okay, he was famous, being in the football team and all that, and she got it! He did not want to let others know how special their relationship was. She smiled.


As she walked past him, she brushed her arm against his on purpose. She felt aroused. She rushed towards the girl’s restroom. She wished he could take her right then right there. She splashed water on her face and was about to walk out when she heard two girls talking out loud outside the girl’s restroom, one of them was the giggling whore. Suddenly the door opened and she had to hide in one of the empty stalls. The girls were gossiping about the affairs and other filthy stuff and then the giggling girl mentioned her. How she had been turned down by him and how she had brushed her arm against his trying to get his attention. And, then both the girls giggled. After a while they walked out of the restroom and she stepped out of the stall. 


With her head down and avoiding eye contact with others, she ran towards her car. She turned the ignition on and drove away. When she reached her house, she opened the door with the key and ran straight to her bedroom. She did not want to face her mother. Once she was inside her room she was back in her own little world. She opened the window in her room so that he could sneak in. She waited for him, then she undressed, slid under the covers and waited more. It was time to be with him. After a while she reached out for something under the bed. Pulling out his jersey she placed it on her bare skin. It was time to be with him. 


She sneaked out of the house through the open window in her room and walked towards the house of the giggling whore. On her way, she bent on the road and picked up something. She hurried towards the giggling whore’s house and rang the doorbell. The girl opened the door almost immediately as if she was expecting someone. Putting all her strength into it, she hit the whore on the head with the stone she had picked up from the road. She hit again and again and then again. She heard someone screaming from inside the house. She looked at the whore lying on the floor in the pool of blood. The whore was not giggling anymore.


Sitting in her unfurnished, white-tiled room in the mental facility, she looked outside the window. It was raining and amidst the raindrops she saw them; him and her – together, their bodies entwined, making love.



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