I was a virgin until that crazy night I had with him. He reeked of it, the gruesome, pungent odour of death. He really did not like me because my Bed was well laid and tucked, he had been to many a home, stalked tall, fat, short and skinny alike. He particularly loved the rich whose Beds were never tucked in, large bellies but a tiny heart.
He was inhumanity itself staring me in the eye, my bed though tucked suddenly felt so small and I would have assented to that spot being tagged dunghill. The breeze of ice cold fiery hell blew in through my window and the chill ran through the core of my marrow, yet he just stared. Dark bloodshot eyes, the most wondorous fiendish beauty, I was enchanted. He was almost my first lust experience but parrallel was a deep revolting disgust he created in the pit of my stomach.
My heart throbbed beneath my breast and I feared that he could smell my fear. I wanted it to end but he just stared and would utter no word.
“I should shut the windows” was my last thought before I found myself drawn strangely within split seconds of eternity through his right eyes, I saw the most inhumane displays of terror. How he lured the weak to vengeance and hurled darts of fury at the strong. Laying waste nations, homes, people, tongues and tribes.
Till Cain and Abel, I screamed all the way. I came out with tears streaming down my face. I had just seen hell in the eyes of man’s inhumanity. He smiled and right across me was me. She looked me in the face and her eyes asked me to deny, begged me to justify, to acquit myself, to say he lied and then I knew I was no virgin, cause deep down in my heart I had plotted and schemed every perversion possible in my bed. I had raked in riches which were not mine, soaked numberless towels in blood and life was still as normal as 5 minutes Ago……
This piece was inspired by a true story I just read:
Dami de furst ¤Writz¤