He used to watch her as she left class.
She was so mysterious...yet so plain.
He had always wondered why she never stood out before. It was his senior year. Girls were starved for his attention, and yet, he longed for her touch. It never occured to him why...he just wanted to hold her. He wanted to know why she was so distant.
His friend would watch the look in his ever-distant eyes. Why was he so into that girl? He could have any girl he wanted at the school--hell he would give an arm and a leg to be as lucky as he is.
"Dude, why are you so into that weird bitch?" he would ask his friend.
"I-I don't know..."
"That doesn't help any...lemme go see if-"
"I DON'T NEED ANYONE FUCKING TELLING ME WHO I CAN SEE OR NOT!"
"Dude, chill."
"No, fuck off."
And with that he ended his friendship.
He became consumed by his curiousity. He approached her one day.
"Hey, my name is-"
"I know your name," she cut him off saying, "and I know your type."
"My type?"
"Yeah, you fuck random girls, then call them whores, ruining their public image, and probably crushing their self-confidence."
"Whoa, you have me figured all wrong.."
"Aren't you a football player? Don't you hang out with all of the jocks? Are you not popular and 'handsome'?" she said, with great emphasis on handsome.
"Wow, why all of the hostility?"
"Because men like you are scum," she snapped, "and I'd prefer if you were to leave me alone now."
"Men like me?" he thought to himself.
"Hey now, don't judge me based on the company I keep," he quickly shot back. "Hell, if I did that, I would call you an anti-social bitch."
That pissed her off. But it rang so true. She decided to let him talk, at the least talk to her. If he was sharp enough to easily get under her skin, then maybe, he would be decent conversation.
That conversation would prove to be a life changing event...
===================================================================================
"Wow" was all she could muster in her mind. She had finally found someone that could talk to her on an intellectual level. Who knew that brainless jocks weren't all that brainless?
They began to converse, and before long, they were sharing past experiences and secrets....deep and dark secrets.
He shared with her, the story of how he "allegedly" raped a cheerleader.
"So, you didn't even touch her?"
"Nah," he began, "she became dangerously infatuated with me and began to hang around. Got drunk at a party and got raped by some college dick-head. I found her, cleaned her up, and she knew the entire story."
She gave him an understanding look.
"But, she wanted my affection, and mistakenly thought she could get it by claiming that I raped her."
"Why isn't she here anymore?"
"Well, she got pregnant..."
"OH!"
"...and as you can tell, I am black."
"So, the guy who did it was...."
"Yep, he had blonde hair and blue eyes, and so did her baby!"
"Oh..my god..."
And on went the conversations.
The girl then began to tell about her abusive father. And other horror stories...
"My dad came in one morning, he was drunk...he beat my mom, for at least 2 hours."
"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS???" he exclaimed.
"Calm down. It's not the worse."
"Not the wor-" he decided to let her finish.
"After he beat her....he...he....raped me."
This paralyzed him with anger.
"It went on and on. Now, he still does it. I never fight back. I just let him get what he wants, then he leaves."
"Oh...no..." he looked at her now dark, and somewhat sorrowful face. "I am so sorry that any of this has ever happened to you..."
She looked up, realizing the gravity of what she just told this stranger, to her world. But the look of concern and rage...and even pity....they all made her feel something.
She hugged him, until her arms hurt.
As they departed, she felt a sense of longing, deep inside of her. She wanted to be free, set aside from the constrictions of an abusive pedophile for a father. She got home, and he tried his routine.
"FUCK YOU! AND GET OFF OF ME!" she screamed at she hit him in the testicles.
He fell over and let out a yelp. "That'll learn you...sick bastard."
Amazed with her courage, she headed back to school to reaccount her moment of bravery.
"Dude, she's not like that."
"How do you know," spoke his annoying friend in his nasally voice, "did she say she wasn't?"
"...how much man?"
"$500"
"MY GOD!" she thought, "he's planning on making a bet on me..."
She cried and ran off.
As the conversation with his friend continued, he said, "Dude these tickets better be worth $500," and he finished, "she's not a gold digger."
Elsewhere, believing she had been fooled, again...her life ended.
No note. Just her blood caking the tub..
