Que de belles petites surprises redécouvertes en lecture....

"À la fin il n'en pouvait plus.
Il n'avait pas réfléchi.
Il l'avait embrassé.
Et pendant qu'il découvrait ses lèvres,
pendant qu'un long frisson ébranlait son corps entier,
une petite voix lui avait confirmé qu'il n'avait plus à chercher.
C'était elle.
Oui. C'était elle. Sa Roxane.
Cette voix qui, pour lui, perçait la nuit."

"Plus que je te découvre,
plus que je partage avec toi des heures précieuses,
plus que je suis totalement,
absolument et parfaitement convaincu que je t'aime.
Comme un fou.
Comme un Cyrano."

"T'as pas vu comment il te regardait?
À mon avis, t'as raison.
Il est con. La preuve?
Il t'aime encore."

- Ta Voix dans la Nuit, Dominique Demers

Tabitha: The Hunt

Tabitha felt each scrape left on her pale skin by the sharp leaves as she ran faster into the green. Her feet crushed the little creatures that called the wet, brown ground their home. The sound of his exasperated breathing was barely audible to her but she focused on her hearing and continued running straight ahead. Her heartbeat was well tamed; she was used to the exercise. The epinephrine in her vessels drove her senses and reflexes to their zenith. Tabitha’s eyes widened and her vision sharpened and there was that extra bounce on her heels as she ran through the trees, catching up to him.
With all the power in her limbs, she leaped off the ground and pinned Trevor down. His fingers dug and his legs kicked the soil as he tried to escape Tabitha’s grasps. He spat out the dirt entering his mouth due to all the commotion and gasped for air, feeling his hunter’s hands tighten around his neck and her knee sink further into his spine. His body agitated for what seemed like an eternity to Tabitha. Trevor was a fighter, that much was settled; he screamed wildly and moved his arms and legs to get away. Tabitha thought to herself, how does a little body like Trevor's hold such a powerful bellow? Soon after, she began to dig her fingers into his vocal cords and happily felt the gush of blood exiting his neck and flowing all over the wet earth. Trevor's heartbeat decreased with his shouts until he finally drew his last breath.
Removing her fingers from his motionless throat, Tabitha exhaled slowly, with all the tranquillity the forest was meant to represent. She laid there, on his body, rubbing her legs against his. She sensed their bodies sinking ever so slowly into the chunky mud, but she was trying to inhale his scent before she had to return. Her hands stretched to intertwine her fingers with his, their bodies then creating a star on the brown ground. Tabitha laid there still, just breathing, watching the earth absorb the red water coming out of Trevor. He wasn't that strong after all.

YIKES!

So I realised how naive it was of me to think that I could get all my school work and exam preps done, have a social life, and still manage to write a new chapter of Rules of Intercourse every month! Yeahhh.... obviously that didn't happen!

But I'm really trying to get it all back on track and find the perfect balance! Because I really do miss writing!
Hopefully by the end of the week I finish up and post the next Tabitha and have started the 8th chapter of Rules of Intercourse. :)

Rules of Intercourse (7): To Call or Not To Call

The next morning, Ashleigh woke up disoriented and sore. Her eyes were highly sensitive to the little light present in her room. As she drew her hands over her eyes to rub them, she felt the swollen skin covering them, and when she opened her mouth to express her discontent, the croaky voice of a trucker replaced hers. While rubbing her throat, Ashleigh tried to remember what had happened last night; she squinted as she only saw blurred colours and random lights from distant corners flash by in her head. Unable to recollect anything from the night before, she felt very uneasy and quite irritated, she hated losing control. Ashleigh blinked a few times and decided it was about time to get out of bed. To her surprise, she was completely naked, which was not in her nature. She slid off the bed, wrapped in her sheets, and started to head for the bathroom when she noticed a little piece of paper on the nightstand. It was a note, for her, by someone with a very neat handwriting, it read:

Thanks for the unpredicted yet enjoyable night, gorgeous!

- Sloan

Sloan who? She asked herself, holding the piece of paper in her hand and wearing a perplexed look on her face. Quickly an essence of fear and apprehension crawled into her skin and took over her body; her eyes widened and her mouth opened. She realised very slowly that there was a man, a stranger, in her home, her sanctuary where she brought no one. Someone had indeed penetrated her fortress of solitude, and she had absolutely no memory of it. Breathing through her nose, she decided to slowly pivot on her heels, which only added to her dizziness, and go look around to see if anything was missing. To her relief, everything was where it was supposed to be as she did the tour of the apartment scrupulously, however scrupulous a hung over person can be. The little piece of paper slipped out and landed on the floor as she grabbed her throbbing head with both hands when a thought crossed her mind: had she slept with him?

Ashleigh made her way to the bed with difficulty; her legs were moving is opposite directions and her swollen eyelids prevented her from seeing the sharp corners of desk and tables on her way there. She got there, finally, on her knees, searching for evidence of the night of so called passion she failed to recall, in other words she was looking for condoms. Zilch, nada, there was absolutely nothing to find. Now the thought donned upon her; she had sex, unprotected sex with a complete stranger.

Something inside her churned.

There she was, naked on the floor, trying dreadfully to remember, when she looked up and noticed the time on the table-clock. It was 10 o’clock and she was late, for the first time no less. Shit, shit, shit, she said to herself as she crawled her way to the bathroom. As soon as the water hit her face she felt a little less sick, the sound of the water hitting the floor and her body covered the hammering noise in her head. She leaned against the shower wall, just in case her legs decided to betray her and make her ass pay a visit to the floor. No, like anyone, she did not need and definitely did not want that. After a good fifteen minutes of getting the smell of beer and strong alcohol off her body, she did her best to quickly get dressed and shot herself out the door, grabbing her saviour of the day, her goggles.

When she got to the front door, she saw the cab outside, waiting. As she wobbled her way to the yellow car, the sunlight stung her eyes even through the Dior shades, making her squint and come very close to tripping, in public.

She stepped into the car only to hear the cabbie yell at her for making him wait a whole half hour. He went about how her company thinks they own the cabs of Manhattan and she should stick to her company car next time. She was shocked and insanely annoyed (usually it would have been from the cabbie speaking to her at all, but this time it was because the cabbie’s voice was drilling into her eardrums) and she wanted the shouting to stop. When the driver refused to move, accusing her of having no notion of time and commitment, all Ashleigh could think about was the number of people stopping outside the car to assist to the ruckus.

Embarrassed, she sighed and finally uttered the words she never thought she would have to say, out loud at least: she apologised. And zoom went the cab.

As she stepped into the building, running away from the loud cab driver, she watched the staff on the ground floor stare back at her through her goggles. She immediately cleared her throat and everyone got right back to work, just like every other day.

Waiting by the elevator, Ashleigh saw the time again; she was a whole two hours late. Right when the clock on the wall started to double, the elevator hit the ground floor. She blinked a couple of times and got into the lift, her head still spinning. The trip from ground floor to her office floor didn’t help her predicament either, in fact she even considered throwing up. But no, that’s just wrong, and even in this state, she at least had that much sense!

Once she was on her floor, she gave her coat to Elaine and asked her to meet her in her office pronto. She left her goggles on, too scared to let people see what lied behind the shades. When Elaine stepped into the room, she was quite agitated, as if she could sense something wrong with her boss.

- Elaine, before you start blasting me with all the missed calls from this morning, I have a very important job for you. I expect you to give this top priority. I need you to find someone for me.

As the last few words left her mouth, Ashleigh had slight glimpses of firm arms holding

her waist. She cleared her voice; it had evolved from the trucker voice of the morning to that of normal sore throat.

- Actually, find me all the men in Manhattan between the ages of 20 to 40, named Sloan.

She looked at her assistant, the poor woman was confused to say the least, but she didn’t quite understand what was being asked of her. With her jaws relatively dropped, Elaine tried to reprocess what was said. Ashleigh saw the hesitation on Elaine’s face and tapped her fingertips on the desk, annoyed.

- Do you want me to write it down for you, Elaine?

The young woman shook her head and left to get the job done. Ashleigh then took out her mirror from her drawer and sighed as she put in down on the desk. It’s time to face the music she said to herself. She slowly removed the goggles and stared at herself in the mirror. Gasp! The puffiness of her eyes had taken a life form of its own. Lightly pressing the inflated skin around her eyes with her fingertip, Ashleigh groaned and sighed some more. Then she pulled out her concealer and patted it on the contours of her sea blues to salvage the idea of perfection she regularly emanated.

Once the beauty was restored, she knew she had one very important thing left to do before she could find some sort of peace of mind. She picked up the phone and dialled her gynaecologist’s number and booked an appointment immediately.

Two knocks on the door later:

- Uhm, Miss Slayton, I was just wondering if you wanted the list on hard copy or via email..

- Elaine! Just get me the list, I really, REALLY , don’t need to hear your squeaky voice right now, Ashleigh barked back.

- Hard copy it is! Said Elaine nervously trying to pop her head back out of the door.

As Elaine promptly typed up the list of all 400+ Sloans living in Manhattan, of which 75 were living in her neighbourhood, with their vital information. Ashleigh was desperately trying to fight off the inevitable migraine by exerting a good amount of pressure on her temples with both hands. She could then hear him clearly.

Sloan, his voice, she heard it so clearly in her mind.

No, she couldn’t think about that now, it was too distracting, and she was already behind on her work. She would have to concentrate now, this was what was important. And that is what she did; she picked up her coffee mug and chugged the caffeine down, then it was time for power-scanning.

At 4:30 pm, the 17 cups of caffeine started to wear off. She heard the jackhammer working in her head again, and she was beyond the point of even trying to focus. However, she still got two covers worked out, so her day wasn’t ruined completely. She picked up her files and headed out the door towards the assistant’s desk to grab her coat, purse and of course, the oh-so essential list. Elaine was already standing with everything in hand, ready to hand everything over to the boss, anything to make her leave the office faster. Sometimes Elaine’s affection for Ashleigh was too strong for mortal words.

Determined to not be humiliated by another person today, Ashleigh stomped her way to the company car as fast she possibly could, while constantly maintaining her severe attitude and reputation in the building. Without uttering a word, she got into the car and it drove her home quickly, and most importantly quietly. She recognized the driver, he was the one who witnessed her at her weakest, and in some way she was grateful that he had kept silent about the incident. It wasn’t like Ashleigh felt like she owed him any explanation, but still, she was glad she didn’t have to bark at him for being a nosy driver, then sack him.

Two turns of key later, Ashleigh was home. She left it in such a hurry that she forgot what it looked like in daylight. There were things on the ground, shoes lying at opposite poles of her room and her favourite red dress was crumpled up under her majestic bed. As her eyes glared at the mess she left this morning, they stopped on the little red blinking light on the answering machine.

Okay, everyone gets messages, and it’s not like Ashleigh was ostracized by society or anything. But given the circumstances, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what was in the message. She approached it with a sigh, ready to get it over with; after all, it could have been anyone. Right?

“Hey there beautiful, just checking to make sure you’re alright. I’m not going to ask you to call back, but I’ll still be hoping you do, especially after last night!”

It was the same rasping, sexy voice that she remembered. Even without the construction workers in her head, she could remember his voice clearly. A number appeared on the screen so she brought out the manhunt list from her Hermès Birkin to finally get some answers.

There he was, Sloan E. Ezra, 27 years old, freelance photo journalist. She was almost relieved his career had some potential, but that wasn’t going to make her call him. He was decent on paper, but she didn’t want or need another man in her life right now. After the too-recent emotional catastrophe, she knew some men just couldn’t handle mere physical relations and she wasn’t doing to risk more drama. She let herself fall on the bed and wondered: When did men become such needy sissies?

Tabitha: Mirror, Mirror

The sweat on her chest formed little beads as they slid down her cleavage, creating a light shimmer on her soft sun kissed skin. Tabitha was becoming breathless; with each breath she drew in, her ample bust raised, rendering her perky breasts evident through her wet baby blue blouse. She wiped the salty droplets off her forehead with the back of her fist, sighing out of exhaustion, while she augmented the force on the hand she used to push Melissa’s face into the bathtub she had filled earlier with chlorine water and leeches.

Melissa’s eyes reddened under the water, her face became invaded by an army of blood thirsty leeches, and her severely lacerated body wiggled over the tub and on the floor. When Tabitha noticed her own reflection in the pool of blood the young victim was creating next to her, a thought crossed her mind. She then let go of the scalpel in her hand and grabbed onto a thick lock of the victim’s satin black hair and continued the torture routine until all her limbs went completely immobile.

Tabitha let go, crossed her arms on her chest and leaned against the tub to watch the leeches compete for a shot at what once was Melissa’s face. It was time for Melissa to take a bath, she thought, and so she acted accordingly. Wearing an indifferent expression on her face, Tabitha then turned around and swiped up a little red from the blood pool with the tip of her index and got up, walking away from the floating corpse to face the mirror. She looked at herself for a while, and then looked at her finger. Biting down on her lip, Tabitha applied a beautiful shade of blood red on her plump lips.

Tabitha: Silly Games

- Oy, Tabitha! Where you hidin’ now? You better get out here or I’m callin’ Mum!


- Don’t be stupid, Alexis. If you can’t find me then you shouldn’t have asked to play in the first place. Suck it up and finish the game, she yelled from across the yard to her little sister.

Tabitha’s gorgeous chestnut hair filled with multiple naturally chocolate highlights glistened in the sun as she tried to keep the hands running up and down her body still. She didn’t want to make any noise from behind the bush, that would just ruin the game, wouldn’t it? Once seven year old Alexis got tired of looking for her big sister in the heat of the sunniest summer in a long time, she picked up Margret, her best friend and straw doll, and headed back inside the little English country home their parents brought them to every year.

Tabitha waited for the door to close behind Alexis before she turned around and attended to the young man gasping for air from inside the plastic bag covering his head. As Tabitha tightened the plastic, he eventually stopped moving and the bushes ceased to make noise. She placed her hand on the dead man’s chest and felt his heart beat come to a stop. She bowed her head, placing it close to the victim’s while she slowly removed the plastic from over his head. His face was colourless and his lips were dry and grey. Tabitha looked at his delicious chocolate brown hair and slowly passed her fingers through the thick locks. She finally neared her nose and breathed in the only good thing left of this corpse, his sweet scent.

It's soo Sweet

(Picture by: Munzi H., my sister!)

Reason why being Bengali has its benefits: SWEETS!! The best ones come from Bangladesh or Calcatta(India) You can find some decent ones in Montreal, from Pushap near Decarie. But if you really want a wide variety of awesome sweets that taste close to authentic Bengali sweets, unfortunately, Toronto is known to be the capital of yumminess! There is a little goodness in every little SouthAsian store, so just ask!

Tabitha (Insights)

Subject Data

Name: Tabitha
Identity: Tabitha Willows
DOB: November 7th, 1993
Age: 17
Sex: Female
Eyes: Green
Hair: Brown
Active since: November 8th, 2009
Base: Amsterdam, Netherlands
House: Jagers (Hunters)
Located: Southampton, England
Level: Stealth
Subconscious Stability: Hostile

Personal Data

Parents: Victor H. Willows 52 years old, Meredith Stone Willows 46 years old
Siblings: Alexis Willows 7 years old
Permanent residence: Southampton, England
Present Academic Building: Bryerson Prep. Academy

Side notes

Subject recruited to serve the Hunters House on the accounts of her hostile subconscious self. She is capable of staying efficient under Vaccine for 48 hours. Complete erase of case memory is noticed when the effects of Vaccine wear off. Capability of staying committed to mission on Vaccine and remaining unsuspected is unusually high. Subject shows very little enthusiasm on missions, but executes the command without hesitation. Subject also exhibits uncommon behaviours which differ from mission to mission.

Author’s notes

The missions that this House gives out to the subjects do not have any explanations that come with them, they only contain extreme violence and in most cases, death. The subjects, the people recruited to take on these missions, are injected with a substance conveniently called Vaccine. This substance allows the subjects to temporarily become active and be filled in with the necessary information about the task at hand. Vaccine inhibits the conscious self and lets the person dive into his or her subconscious self. The subjects in the House of Hunters are only selected based on their highly unstable unconscious selves. Although they may lead perfectly normal lives governed by their Ego or Superego, when injected with Vaccine, they obligatorily give in to their Id. They are chosen by recruiters who meet them in person unexpectedly in everyday life. The Bases are placed all around the world and the Houses associated with the Bases are placed in proximity to the subjects. The shorts will only be talking about Tabitha’s conduct during missions; they will not have any other information.

Scheduling

Hey guys!

Since I've been writing the story Rules of Intercourse since early this February, I have been able to be post the chapters with very little interval. But seeing that I'm starting school in the fall, I'm going to have to come up with a way to keep writing the story in order to keep posting the upcoming chapters and get my school work done at the same time, so I have decided that the postings will take place every month or so from now on. There will still be the everyday thoughts and ideas, but the long chapters will only appear once a month.

Sorry for the inconvenience!

Oh! I will also be posting different shorts every week featuring a new character named Tabitha starting next week! Hope you guys like it! :)

Flattered!

Knowing that what you say and write make a little difference in someone's day is quite an accomplishment! So today when I read my first comment that didn't come from a friend I knew in real life, I was strangely flattered! In my quest to write this story about exploring sex and of course all that comes with it, (foreplay, toys, clothes) I'm hoping that people see that it's totally appropriate and tasteful to write about sensations, arousals and the ecstatic feelings of that perfect orgasm. Thanks to all who have been supporting me to write Rules of Intercourse, it means the world to me! :)

And any comment is accepted, be it just compliments or constructive criticism, it's all much much appreciated!

Rules of Intercourse (6): How Things Come To Burn (Thanks Vanessa C.)

Ashleigh sat by her window, looking at the lonely, bright sphere in the clear, dark sky. It was only 10 pm and the streets were busy, loud, and colourful. She shivered as the cold air brushed her hair and hardened the teardrops on her lashes. She felt herself get soft and she hated it. She sniffled and shut her eyes firmly; she then drew in large volumes of air through her nostrils as she rubbed her neck trying to think straight. She swiftly closed the windows, dried her eyes with the back of her hands and headed to her room. Her closet was the definition of extravagance; it was filled with clothes from numerous designers, haute couture to street wear chic. Ashleigh pulled out an outfit and walked into her shoe closet. It was like walking into Carrie Bradshaw’s dream closet, filled with the most exquisite pieces of foot wear available on the market, and some that weren’t even out yet.

She stomped out of her building regaining the confidence she lost earlier the day, in black leather 5-inch Louboutin heels. She wasn’t going to deal with it, no, that would be too painful, fatiguing even, and that just wasn’t her style. She was better at masking things, in fact, she excelled in it. The art of masking was something she learned on her own a long while back, it was her only shield against the world. Indeed, knowing that the world was filled with things that might harm her, she built the perfect armour that she never let down.

Ashleigh entered Trespasser’s Pub and walked towards the bar; all she really needed were few shots of Tequila. The burning sensations in her throat should keep the dark thoughts at bay, she thought. The bar was never a place fancied by women, too many strong drinks and drunken assholes. But Ashleigh wanted nothing more than for it to be a regular shack. As she sat on the stool and tapped the counter with her fingertips, trying to get the bartender’s attention, men all across the pub ogled in amusement. There were whistles coming from all four corners, and kinky comments were heard.

Ashleigh pushed her long blond locks back and removed her black leather, body hugging jacket and ordered six shots of Tequila. She kept the jacket on her lap and leaned in, pressing her breasts on the counter, and sighed out of mostly boredom. The male population of the pub quickly moved closer to the bar and Ashleigh could easily see how much attention she was drawing to herself. Everyone was enjoying the view, pushing and shoving each other to get a better look at rare meat in her tight red dress. Her endless legs were bare for all to see and admire, and the halter dress also let men gaze into her modest cleavage as it showcased her slender frame. She rolled her eyes as she felt the air around her start to fill up with smell of alcohol and sweat. As the barman poured the Tequila into the shot glasses, he stared at her breasts and winked while passing remarks under his breath.

She displayed a smirk on her face and picked up a slice of lime from her glass and wrapped her tongue around it slowly as she heard gasps and barely audible growls all around her. Sucking on the piece of lime without wincing from its acidity, she spat it out and quickly gulped down all six shots. Shaking her head quickly, Ashleigh shrugged off the fire blazing down her oesophagus. She then stared at her glasses (fully conscious of the fifty pairs of eyes burning a hole into the back of her neck) and picked up tiny grains of salt with her index and stuck it in her mouth, pressing it against her tongue. The men started to lose their cool and began shouting “YEAH!” and banging their beer mugs on the counter. Ashleigh sat up straight and laughed. As she stretched, pushing her chest out towards the barman, the crowd cheered at the view.

- Alright, who’s got the next round, boys?

Ashleigh was ready to have some fun, to let loose and drink until her insides burned, or simply until someone offered a better escape. She wasn’t completely sure why she desperately needed that escape, but it seemed to her that every time she felt like she was about to be alright, the image of Diego’s heart exploding into a million pieces came breaking her down. It was like the never ending guilt parade she was signed on to lead. All she knew was that alcohol numbed the emotional crap going on inside by physically hurting her guts. And so, as the shower of bills commenced all over the bar and a choir of synchronized voices started to order drinks for the milady, she felt better knowing that somehow with all this alcohol, the bruised sentiments were being buried somewhere very far away in her mind. So after two hours and six rounds of miscellaneous highly alcoholic beverages with the boys, Ashleigh was starting to get hammered but she was definitely enjoying her state of make-belief alegría. Her vision began to blur and she found everything quite amusing, her giggles were beginning to become very frequent, which only encouraged the flirtation with complete strangers. She felt like she was under water, she was in a sea of men, drowning in their impressive shouts and cheers. Even in a complete drunken state, something inside Ashleigh questioned whether this outlet was the right one. And although numbness and senselessness dominated her actions, she felt fear of losing more than her pain that night, more than she was willing to lose.

A particular voice came very close to her ear as Ashleigh played “smash the peanut on the stranger’s face”. It was clear, sharp, rasping yet in a pleasant way and maybe even a little sexy. As hands held her arm, she was losing balance, and she could feel the floor swirl under her feet, hearing nothing but muffled shouts. An arm held her by the waist, preventing her from hitting the wet and very sticky floor. Soon after Ashleigh was held up, her arm was over someone’s shoulder and her whole body weight was on this someone’s arms instead of her own feet.

- I think you have had enough there, beautiful. It’s time you hit on home.

The voice was imposing, worried. It soothed her as she swooned.

- Well why don’t you take me home? You’re gonna be in for a treat, ha ha, Ashleigh managed to mutter out while trying to stand on her feet. Failed attempts.

She looked up at him; she wanted to put a face to the voice, but no use, all she saw was a big blob of blur. His face was hazy and unclear. He slowly walked towards the exit with her leaning onto his body for total support. She weakly touched his cheeks and giggled, her eyes closed more and more frequently as tears started to build up at the corners. She was right, she would drink until her insides burned, they did, but at least the fear and the heartache were gone.

Too much

Sometimes, when you hold something too close, you end up choking it. - Cassie Knightingale

TRAVELLING

I want to travel. Correction. I NEED to travel.

With school right around the corner, the only thing I can think about right now is how much I want to leave everything and go away!

I've always been fascinated by the tales my cousins and friends would tell me about their travels. The new countries, the cultures, the sights, the people, GAAH!!! I WANT!

Since I was 16, my best friend Nalini and I have been dreaming of a Eurotrip, and hopefully it will come true by next summer!

Just came back from my solo trip (first one ever!!) to my native land Bangladesh in January 2010 and am planning on going back for some volunteer work in hospitals around the country.

Dhaka (Bangladesh)

Cox's Bazaar Sea Beach (Bangladesh)

Also plan taking two accomplices with me : Nalini and my baby sister Munzi. We should make a 1-2 week pitstop in Europe. Yeah spend some time with my cousin in London and convince him to take us on the long awaited Eurotrip.

Places in Europe I really want to see:

Paris (France)

Barcelona (Spain)

Berlin (Germany)

Dublin (Ireland)

Island of Santorini (Greece)

Amsterdam (Holland)

Rome (Italy)

I know 2 weeks will probably not be enough to do all those cities, but still, it's still worth a shot!!! So I'm guessing I should start saving up, seriously.

Then there is also the uber anticipated trip to Las Vegas for our 21st birthdays (Nalini's and mine), we want to celebrate it... HANGOVER style, so might need to make some cuts on shopping which will be hard.

I know I'm a dreamer, but I want to see it happen! Expect to see some PICTURES!!!

Rules of Intercourse (5): Really, It’s Not Me, It’s You

Ashleigh dug her nails into Diego’s flesh as she held onto his shoulders for support. Their bodies kept colliding and exhaustion consumed them entirely. As they both reached the zenith of ecstasy, every muscle in their bodies strained and ached. The release was relieving, creating an aura of steam and satisfaction by the final thrust and a prolonged exhale. Heart rates raced, breaths lacked and sweat accumulated on their bodies. Ashleigh tried her best to steady her breathing; her lips were quivering so close to Diego’s skin. He felt her breathing on him as he himself tried to regain control over his heartbeat. They held on to each other, caressing each other. Diego brushed Ashleigh’s hair away from her face with his fingers and held her face in his hands.


- I love you, Ashleigh. I never stopped loving you, I want you to want me, I need you to love me Ash. Can’t this be enough for us? said the beautiful man with a gentle, shaky voice, looking into her sea blue eyes.

Ashleigh closed her eyes and took three deep breaths, clenching her teeth together. Her heart ached; she knew she was being untruthful to him, he who loved her so deeply. She knew that she could not return the same essential feelings to him, and that pained her the most, he was such a nice guy after all. It saddened her that she had let things get this far; why was casual fuck suddenly so complicated and heartbreaking? Where had all these strings appeared from? She had to tell him that what he thought to be so simple was actually anything but. Ashleigh hated herself for leading him on for so long; he never really got any sign from her, telling him to look elsewhere. Her heart ached incredulously; the pain had become so unbearable that her chest caved in. The thought of losing the one who would occasionally fulfil her needs hurt, but the thought of losing her therapist too, that was a complete downer. Unfortunately, she knew she couldn’t have one without having the other, so tears started to stream down her guilty face and she broke into uncontrollable sobs.

- I, I can’t. Diego, I c-c-can’t do this. We can never b-b-e, I’m s-s-o sorry Diego, I-I really am.

She sobbed louder and lost total control on her breathing, hiccupping, tears pouring out of her eyes and streaming down his chest as she buried her face into him. Diego was completely still, he felt every one of those little daggers that sliced through his heart. He felt himself breaking down with every tear touching him. Every breath he took felt like breathing in metal, heavy, painful, deadly.

- Don’t say that, please Ashleigh, d-don’t do this.

Diego pleaded to her with the voice of a broken man, a man left with a blown out candle in the middle of a storm. Her porcelain face paled gradually as she kept shooting herself inside. She felt Diego wince with every sob she let out, it killed her, as it killed him. She tried really hard to pull herself back together, but she struggled greatly but she had to let him go.

- I-I’m really sorry. I can’t let you l-love me, I’m not w-w-worth it... What I-I felt, it’s not love, it was never love. It’s not fair to you,

Ashleigh silently bid goodbye to a good friend and an amazing therapist as she pulled away, drew her arms back to herself and composed herself as Diego watched her with a blank look in his eyes, tormented inside. She saw him shattered, at his lowest, but she had to break him more. She had to break him to pieces for him to reconstruct himself and hopefully move on. She felt as though she had to make him get over her, she guessed she owed him that much.

- I’m saying I don’t love you Diego, she suddenly shot with a cold voice, straightening herself up, looking into his eyes; how long was she suppose to cry? I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, but you will have to forget me. We are done. I will send a check covering all the therapy expenses by the end of the week.

The bullet was out, and the receiving end was located. His heart exploded inside his chest and the tears flowing on his soft structured, caramel cheeks were the sirens of his demolition. He sighed painfully in disbelief, his lungs were filled with metal, and he stood in front of the only woman he had put his career and his life on the line for. He couldn’t look at her; the coldness in her voice was just the perfect amount to break him. Ashleigh quickly got into her clothes and threw Diego his shirt, and then she left the room, sliding her shades on her face quickly to hide the redness of her pain-stricken eyes. As the door closed behind her, Diego fell on his chair with his shirt on his lap and a completely blank look in his eyes like a man standing in a house torched to the ground by whom he thought to be an angel. The house was his heart and the angel was a traitor. After a painful sigh, he built up his regular melodious voice just long enough to call and cancel all the appointments for the remainder of that day.

On her way out, Ashleigh coiffed her hair with her fingers frantically, she was shaking. As she made it to her car, she had trouble breathing; her eyes were overflowing with tears, unable to contain them. She was the murderer of souls she thought to herself; she had stripped Diego of the only thing he held precious to his heart, his ability to love. Dammit, she finally realised how selfish she was to use him like that, to use him in order to fulfill her womanly needs. She hated herself, how did she come so far? He was always there, consoling her, fighting her fears, explaining her feelings and dreams to her. The driver rushed to open the door as he noticed Ashleigh speed towards it. She collapsed on the backseat, laying on it, curled on her side, motioning the driver to start the car with her hand. She was hyperventilating, her insides her burning, she torched herself in the process of breaking Diego. She kept telling herself, hoping desperately that he would love again; she tried to convince herself she did the right thing, it wasn’t like she could go on knowing how he felt. She closed her eyes and swallowed her tears painfully. She made no noise however, she was a stone that showed rare signs of frailty and let no one approach her with pity. The driver watched her from the rear-view mirror as he drove her home. He was shocked, he felt helpless, but he knew it wasn’t his place to console her; she wouldn’t have it anyway.

The car stopped, Ashleigh crumbled out the door and walked to the building in a zombie-like fashion. Her lipstick was lightly smeared around her lips and her mascara left tiny rivers of darkness on her pale, colourless face. She opened her door and walked into her apartment. The bag hit the floor followed by her coat; she then kicked off her precious shoes. She walked towards her bathroom wearing an expression similar to Diego’s on her face, pulling her clothes off one at a time and throwing them violently on the floor. If she had known that she had been using the man all this time, why was it that she also felt some of what he was feeling? As the thoughts of her attachment to the innocent shrink numbed her mind, Ashleigh slipped into the shower and let the ice cold water run on her aching body. This emotional trauma was unfortunately affecting her physically as well. There she was sitting on the floor, curled up into a little insignificant ball, quivering, exploding. The water falling on her may have hidden her tears, but her screams were too strong to be muffled. She was raging, or maybe it was sadness that she was feeling, but what was important was that it was finally out there.

Today I found the courage to talk to someone about the problems at home. It felt good, and I kind of feel less stranded in the storm.

How to deal...

Leaving for university at the end of August, ready for the 3yr-long vibe of freedom that's waiting for me outside Montreal, but more importantly, outside my parent's home.

I've bee having these very mixed emotions lately. Although there isn't a doubt in my mind that I will be extremely happy living in my dorm, meeting new people with all the freedom in the world, I sometimes wonder how I will be able to go through a whole day without hearing my baby sister complain about....something, anything... I will miss her.

Being brought up into a narrow-minded, relatively "middle-class" bengali family, the thought of studying away from home is ridiculous. Even if it is only a couple of hours away. But under the circumstances, the parents had to give in. However, they did not miss an opportunity to show just how much it angers them that I might even think about being my own person and finding some sort of independance... Yeah! it blows :S

Some days I tell myself that maybe if I took a year off from school, made some money and reapplied to a university close to home, I wouldn't have to go through the everyday tauntings of the mother or the life lessons about how the new generation of children have no respect or appreciation from the father. I know that like piranhas, the parents are waiting for the moment when I'll have something bad happen to me, when I'll make a mistake, to pounce on me and bring me back home. But all I think to myself now is : Why would I do that to myself? Get me the hell out of here!

How do I deal? I mostly ignore my mom; once you learn to do that, everything seems easier.

My mother has the most elaborate gift of crawling under your skin and making you feel like there is absolutely no reason behind your existence. Just like the old-fashioned villainous mothers in old Hindi Bollywood movies, my mother knows how to recall every single little mistake of your life, and bring them up everytime you make another mistake, in short, she's like the broken gramophone that starts and keeps bickering about the same thing for HOURS, literally. God help you if you try to make her understand something, it's absolutely useless. You may think I am being hard on her. I wish I were, too.

Valuable thing I finally understood after 19 long years of staying with my parents: There is no such thing as learning from your children. Parents are meant to be respected and feared, understanding between a parent and a child is just a miracle. And sadly, miracles do not happen in every day life.

“Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.” - Mahatma Gandhi

Somethings my parents and I will never see eye to eye...

Rules of Intercourse (4): If You Weren’t You, It’d Be Easier

He held her for a long time, breathing in her sweet lavender perfume. His shaky hands tried to maintain the firm grip he had on her arms. He looked at her scrupulously, examining her face, her soft, once so innocent face. Diego watched her as her eyes fled his constantly. He could feel her breathing matching his, they both panted gently; with every breath they drew in, their chests touched. Diego leaned towards her, sealing the gap between their bodies. He bowed his head sighing aloud as his forehead touched her shoulder.


- You’re running away Ash. Why are you running from me, from us? he murmured.

Ashleigh gasped and as she slowly turned her face to look at Diego, her cheek brushed his head. She stared at his beautiful, thick lock of light brown hair and inhaled deeply. Diego raised his head and finally found Ashleigh’s eyes with his own. There was a moment of silence as Diego tried to tame the blaze growing stronger inside him. Ashleigh saw the agony in his face; she could sense the apprehension in this breathing. When she finally opened her mouth to let out a sound, Diego tightened his grip on her arms, pulling her into him, locking his lips to hers. They kissed. At the touch of each other’s lips they felt the electric shock of a thousand volts.

He loosened his hold on her and slid his hands up to her neck, pressing his thumbs on her collar bone. She pressed her hands against his chest, rubbing them hard, taking them to his shoulders and pulling on him more and more. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, caressing his with hers, twirling, pressing them against each other. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, kissing him with more passion than ever, as he slid his hands all over her back, her hips then on to her thighs. He pulled back from the lip-lock, quickly catching his breath, and then glued his lips to her neck, kissing it from the back of her ear to the little dent near her collar bone. Ashleigh tilted her head back against the wall, arching her back and pushing her chest forward as she gasped and panted, feeling Diego drag his lips against her flesh. He started sucking on her neck gently while he hiked up her skirt over her thighs. She immediately held on to his collar and letting out a quick moan. Diego, with his hands under her skirt, reached for her buttocks and lifted her up spreading her legs around his waist.

Ashleigh felt a chill go down her spine, she held on tightly to his muscular arms as he took her across the room to his desk. She held his face and pulled him into another heart-stopping kiss. As they reached the bureau, he put her down, still holding on to her legs and still kissing her. Ashleigh started undoing his buttons furiously, pulling his shirt off. She pressed her hands against his boiling chest and slid her hands down to his buckles without moving her lips from his. He felt his stomach tense up as her fingers lightly brushed against it on their way to his pants. He slowly moved away from her lips and started to kiss her jaw-line all the while slowly removing her panties, pulling them down and massaging her inner thighs softly. Ashleigh let out a slow moan and quickly gasped and he slid the panties down her legs and threw them on the floor. Her hands moved quickly and his pants were finally on the floor as well.

Ashleigh’s heart started beating faster; it was about to leave her thoracic cavity in no time. Her silky bond hair was now a sexy mess from being against the wall; she wrapped her legs firmly around Diego’s thighs. His fingers slowly undid her blouse, pushing it off of her, and caressed her sides, stomach, making their way back up to her breasts. Ashleigh gasped and closed her eyes, biting down on her lip as Diego inhaled deeply and unhooked her bra, letting it fall off, revealing her perky, soft breasts. He leaned into her and began to suck on her neck again while she gasped and moan more frequently. She could feel his excitement and arousal being cocked up between her legs. She grabbed on to his bare arms. His divine caramel coloured body was strong and as he held onto her hips, pulling them closer to the edge, closer to him, she stopped breathing. He looked at her, held the back of her head with one hand, keeping it straight. With the other hand, he held onto her lower back as he forced himself inside her, exhaling loudly while hearing her moan his name with her breathless voice. He gasped, leaned against her, getting deeper inside her, both panting, moaning.

Rules of Intercourse (3): Breathing On Your Skin, It’s What I Need

Dr. Diego Martinez was following Ashleigh for almost 5 years. She first came to him after her emotional breakdown. She was in a very fragile state and had completely shut everyone out of her life; he practically helped her build her person back up from the dust left from the incident. It was the perfect scenario to obtain the purest of eligible bachelors that Diego was, and Ashleigh of course jumped on the occasion. Don’t get her wrong, she isn’t evil, completely, she just can’t look away because it is said to be incorrect to stare!


Ashleigh watched a redheaded woman leave the doctor’s cabin. She was pale, with little freckles on her cheeks and nose. The woman had wandering eyes, her shoulders were hunched forward, and she held her hands together and took quick shallow breaths as she walked passed Ashleigh. It was as though the frail creature were a child separated from her parents in a mall, shaken and afraid. She made Ashleigh feel uncomfortable. Although the presence of the fragile woman boiled the red river flowing through her body, the sight of the delicateness pricked her like sharp thorns, and so Ashleigh kept staring, completely spellbound. This woman embodied everything Ashleigh hated, everything she loathed in women, yet she could not take her eyes off of her. Soon enough, Ashleigh’s breathing started to match the fragile creature’s, she felt the blood being pumped faster and faster through her vessels. Her breathing started to accelerate, her lungs were about to explode,

- Miss Slayton, are you alright? Miss Slayton?

The receptionist held Ashleigh by the shoulders and shook her until she snapped out of trance. Once Ashleigh became conscious about her surroundings, she quickly got to her feet and gasped as she tried to catch her breath.

- Are you alright Miss??

- Yes, yes I’m fine. She looked around for the little delicate being she was fixated on, I’m perfectly fine.

She said as she noticed her walking out of the doors. Ashleigh finally took a deep breath and walked towards the doctor’s cabin and knocked softly on the door.

- Come in.

She entered the room and closed the door behind her, locking it. Dr. Martinez got off his chair when he saw the pallor of her face and made his way through the office and got to her side. He held her by the hand and led her to the chair in front of his desk. As she sat down, looking out the window, avoiding eye contact with him, he leaned against his desk right in front of her, arms crossed. There was a long silence; she was trying to mask the emotions on her face with every fibre in her body, trying to keep her calm, composed face. While she was wasting her energy trying to hide something beyond her control, he was watching her, contemplating her, taking her in. He could see through the illusion of normal she tried so hard to maintain, he could see right through her. He slowly moved his hands closer towards her then he placed them on the armrests and leaned on to her. He looked at her with his big brown eyes, he took a deep breath and with his divinely melodious and accented voice, he asked her,

- What happened, Ashleigh? What’s bothering you?

- How do you do it Diego? Going through these depressive states of mind over and over, year after year... Don’t you get tired?

- Why is it affecting you so much? This is my profession; this is what I have to do, help those who cannot help their minds.

Ashleigh could not believe that Dr. Martinez didn’t understand why she was upset, why she couldn’t breathe in the waiting room. She looked at him gazing into her blue seas and quickly looked away, out the window once again. Diego stayed exactly as he was, hunched over, holding on to the armrests, imprisoning Ashleigh in her seat. He stood there, listening to the raindrops, hitting the glass violently, fuse to her breathing. He examined her as she swallowed hard and he saw the stress on her forehead, the apprehension in her eye movement. Diego was mesmerized; after all these years, Ashleigh was the same mystery as she once used to be. As always, the sincerity of her emotions was questionable, he was amazed at how she never let him decipher her. When he realised she was beginning to get uncomfortable, she was beginning to shut him out, he gently moved away from her. In that little opening, Ashleigh bounced off the chair and walked towards the far end of the office as to flee from him. Her palms got moist; she wondered when the fun part would start and she would have to quit the front, but she needed to go all the way so she thought it would be better if she trembled while saying,

- I cannot go back there. I don’t want to be that person again, I just can’t be her. All the years in the dark, under everyone... I can’t... she said with the shaky voice of a patient.

Martinez walked up behind her, his hands in his pockets; he was standing a foot away from Ashleigh. He drew a deep breath; he thought she was almost breaking through the shell,

- What can’t you do, Ashleigh? Why must you keep this mask on? Why can’t you let go of all of this? Why is keeping this face so important to you, Ashleigh?

With every question, his voice raised higher and higher. He grabbed her arm and turned her around, forcing her against the wall. Holding her to the wall he looked her in the eyes, bewildered. His breathing was uneven, he was nervous, but this wasn’t about her anymore. He needed to know, why wouldn’t she couldn’t commit to him,

- Tell me. Why are you doing this?

Diego lost all sense of professionalism the second she walked into the room. At that moment, Diego was just a man, a man with passion in his blood, anger in his eyes and an evasive hope in his arms. In those two inches between their bodies were miles worth of distance. For now.

Rules of Intercourse (2): It’s About What I Want

Twirling the cable with her thin, long, bare fingers, Ashleigh spoke with undeniable poise and trapped her prey with her insane manipulative skills,

- Emilio, you know very well that I’m not that kind of a woman. I thought that after all I had done, you would have the decency to approve this one little project. If I recall correctly, you signed a pre-nuptial agreement didn’t you? Just think about what your wife would do if she were to find out what you were up to on those so called seminars of yours? ... Ha ha, I knew you would come around, it truly is pleasure doing business with you darling!

Yes, the fashion industry was a cut throat jungle, and Ashleigh, like any other achiever, had learned to be a survivor and get through the jungle without starving. She used her sources so well that no deal escaped her claws; she had everything, and more importantly, everyone on her radar. Since she joined the magazine, three years ago, sales had hit the skies and she has never looked back. Promotion after promotion, in a very short period of time Ashleigh kept establishing stronger grounds amongst her coworkers, propelling her to land the coveted spot of “Head of Creative Department”. With great power came great perks, of course, and no one knew how to take advantage of power and position as well as Ashleigh did. How she managed to vacate her third floor dusty cabin and move all her belongings to a glass walled office bigger than six cubicles on the 29th floor has always been debatable. Rumours and scandals of affaires with the boss and bribes spread quickly and viciously at work; however, this only encouraged her, provided gasoline to her power-hungry flame, for she knew she was what they envied the most.

So there she was, behind the glass walls, watching all those little minions running around, stressing about making the deadlines, while she was in the comforts of her air conditioner, playing with her silky tresses. She picked up a review catalogue of all the colour schemes and season patterns off her desk, inclined her seat and started going through the details of the booklet. As she circled the colours and patterns that were to appear on the next issue of Smile and marked the designated pages, she put her feet on her desk and noticed her splendid footwear and immediately felt her heart float on the lightest of clouds on the highest levels of the sky.
She was quickly awakened from her reveries when Elaine interrupted her to alert her of a 4 o’clock appointment. Startled, Ashleigh got up and told Elaine to prepare her coat. She brushed her black pencil skirt, took the catalogue and headed out the door. Outside, Elaine was waiting for her with her fur; Ashleigh dropped the book on the intern’s desk and slipped into her warm winter cover and walked away. As she approached the elevator doors, she turned around and said:
- Elaine, I hope you didn’t wear those seemingly new stilettos thinking you would be going out tonight... That would mean you weren’t planning on completing your assignment on the Adriana Lima piece.
- But I was not aware I was working tonight, I made plans...
Ashleigh looked over her shoulder; she didn’t even bother turning around, rolled her eyes and looked back towards the elevator,
- Such a pity.
She walked into the elevator with a smug smile on her face, as if she had accomplished her goal of making the little intern’s life that much worse. Before closing the doors, she feigned a sincere smile and waved goodbye to her defenceless prey,
- Remind me why I hired you Elaine, get to work.
The company car was already waiting outside the building as Ashleigh exited. The driver got out of the car and opened the door as she neared,
- Good afternoon ma’am!
- Stop wasting my time, she said in an unfriendly tone.
She put on her goggles and slid into the sleek BMW 335i and the driver drove off to her appointment. On the way, she brought out some hand cream and started to apply some frantically while staring out the window with a different look in her eyes. She stared as the world outside began to look like a mush of colours on her window, paint smeared on to a pallet; it began to rain.
The car stopped in front of a tall building with sad features, it looked somewhat gothic yet not enough to be attractive. The driver rushed out to open the umbrella for Ashleigh. She exited the car and quickly made her way in the building, not letting a drop of rain touch her. Once she was through the doors, she sent the driver away and stomped to the receptionist who instantly recognized her,
- Miss Slayton, Dr. Martinez will see you shortly. His last session is running a little late, and he is deeply apologetic. Why don’t you have a seat?

Rules of Intercourse (1)

Walking on the busy streets of New York, Ashleigh Slayton’s bright blue eyes widened as she noticed breathtaking purple satin peep-toe pumps that she was compelled to purchase in order to continue breathing. It wasn't for any special occasion - when did girls start needing special occasions to get new shoes..? - but Ashleigh felt as though she were incomplete without those perfect foot decors. She knew right away which outfits she could throw them together with, heck she had already started to plan multiple looks complementing those to-die-for pumps.
As she battled her way through the packed store, kicking shins and pulling hair, something shiny caught her eye. It was something made of crystal, like a pendant, or maybe earrings and it shone so brightly that she felt blinded by its beauty. For a minute she had entirely forgotten about the one object that she thought to be vital. But she snapped right out of it, setting her priorities straight - breathing before crystals- she rushed over to the counter with the brilliant peep-toes. A swipe of the credit card later, Ashleigh felt like she had accomplished something absolutely crucial, but as she returned to where she had spotted the crystal mystery object, it was gone. She looked around for a while and after a few looks here and there, she shrugged and walked out happy.
The next morning before leaving for work, Ashleigh admired the ensemble she put together to accentuate the purple on her feet. When she realised time flew faster than she had thought, she looked down from her penthouse windows and sprinted (yes in her heels) to the cab waiting outside her apartment building. The driver was staring right at her from his rear view mirror as she sat on the back seat, closed the door, and pushed her silky, wavy blond hair back and said,
- "Well unlike you with your aimless life, I don’t have the luxury to take all morning to get somewhere; now why don’t you pretend like you have a real job and step on it."
The cabbie resentfully stepped on it and the car raced through the bustling American Fashion Capital. On the way, Ashleigh brought out her pocket mirror and admired her perfect porcelain skin and applied scintillating red gloss to her plump lips, this woman was beauty incarnate.
As she had just finished powdering her thin nose, the cab stop abruptly in front of the Smile Magazine building, resulting is excess powder on Ashleigh’s face. She inhaled loudly, and then, wiping the makeup off her porcelain visage excessively annoyed, she scowled at the cabbie:
- If only you were useful. I honestly don’t see how you could actually be making any money...
She got out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Once in the building, she quickly regained her good humour and stomped her way to the elevator. While she waited for what seemed to her an eternity, the staff on the ground floor were holding their breath for the Bitch of the West had entered her layer. The sound of her pumps tapping the floor was enough to make the receptionist tremble in her little cozy lime green chair behind the long glass reception desk with modern metallic accents. Everyone thanked the sweet lord as the elevator doors opened and the devil walked into it.
- Miss Slayton, you have Marchesa waiting on line two and Celestino on line three, I also have your dry-cleaning. They sent it in a few hours ago. Would you like me to have them delivered home right away...
said Elaine the intern holding coffee in her hands as Ashleigh arrived to her office floor. Elaine was a hard worker, she tried very hard to please everyone, more importantly to please her boss the Slayer, the one person who could either make her or rip her apart.
- You know Elaine, said Ashleigh throwing her flock of lavishing white winter fur on the girl’s face, taking the coffee and walking towards her office, if I paid you to talk endlessly and bore me with your annoying little voice, you would have been a millionaire by now. But look at you, you’re still here making copies and answering phone calls, what does that tell you?
- That, I should, not bore you with my annoying voice...
- See, I knew I saw some form of brains behind that sad thing you call personality, and that’s why I hired you, she smiled.
Walking into her office, leaving the poor intern crushed and broken, Ashleigh closed the door and sat on her magnificently comfortable black leather chair. She picked up the phone and did what she did best, that is to charm her clients and associates off their behinds with her irresistible ways with words. As a matter of fact, there were few things on this planet that she couldn’t get with the combination of her words, brilliant smile and a bat of those ever so seductive lashes.

All I Ever Wanted... A Valentine's Day special.

And there she was, with her beautiful pale skinned face and her strawberry blond hair up in a bun with tiny curls falling on her forehead. She simply took my breath away, sank my heart, and brought hues of red to my hot cheeks before I could draw the slightest gasp.

It was Wednesday night and her eyes were as green as the forests, and they glistened ever so radiantly. What was I supposed to do? Look at her brush her beautiful long hair in her room across the yard, wishing that I could somehow be smelling her perfume up close? My eyes began to hurt, they were strained by looking into the telescope for long periods of time.

My parents had gifted it to me a year back, when I first started to lock myself in the basement. They said I needed a hobby that involved spending time out of the subterranean portions of the house. Who knew, the day I would open my window to set up my new gadjet, my eyes would set on the one living thing I could ever actually care about. Oh how I wanted to hold her, touch her seemingly soft skin, caress her tender neck, and slowly make my way down to her... What luck that the one I would from then on covet had moved right into the house next door.

I patiently waited by my window, watching them carry the boxes out of the U-Haul. She had her tresses in an effortlessy messy bun, it was absolutely exquisit. Her lips were coloured with the lightest shade of red, but it was enough to pop on her snow white skin. I guessed right then and there that I would have to use my telescope for other purposes than just cosmic curiosity. That night, I patiently waited on my bed, my palms were sweaty and my heart was beating insanly fast. I wanted to jump through the night and barge into her room, pin her against the wall and slowly run my nose on her pale skin, taking in her essence. But I had to resort myself to getting up and going to the window and setting the telescope to point toward her room. How foolish of her- yet lucky for me- to beleive the neighbours to be innocent gentlemen while she undressed herself. She revealed her luscious flesh that made my blood boil in my veins, I had completely isolated her from the rest of the world. I could peak into her room, focus on her flawless body, zoom into her porcelin skin, and even feel the blood being pumped into her arteries. As I watched, my obsession grew inside me, never have I wanted something so badly. Yes, I know what I said; I have never wanted something so badly.

For the next few nights, I watched her meticulously. She was on the phone, talking to her friends about having the house to herself over the weekend. She twirls her hair when she giggles, she watches herself in the miror and points out her flaws- how wrong of her, acusing that perfect body with unfouded flaws. She was unhappy with her breasts, she would hold them and sigh, and I would watch and gasp softly everytime she would take herself in her hands. How I wished it were my hands instead of her own, I could have known how to appreciate that body, treating it with the amount of love and respect it truly deserved. She had the audacity to pick flaws on the divine creation that was her body. Rage flowed through me, I could not take it any longer.

Monday morning, her parents came over. Her mother was in tears, and her father could not even bring himself to speak. When I went down to the living room, I inquired about what had happened. The mother's grey lips quivered as she recounted last night's events: pieces of her daughter had been found on her bed. I feigned to be shocked; it was the right thing to do. I offered my condolences and quickly retreated to my room. The woman was shedding tears for an ingrate.

I closed the door behind me, sat at my desk and ran my fingers through her hair. It was so soft, it was perfect. I pinched her cheeks; sadly they did not turn red like I hoped they would, but I expected as much given the lack of blood in them. I changed the towel on my desk that was saturated with blood and replaced it with a new scented one. I coiffed her hair beautifully and glued her eyelids back to see her beautiful green eyes-now slightly grey- look directly at me. I got to my closet and brought out the luscious breasts she could not love, and placed them on my desk right in front of her face. I sat down and gently placed my hands on the soft spongy mounds and closed my eyes for a while, and stared into her eyes again. And there she was, with her beautiful pale skinned face and her strawberry blond hair up in a bun with tiny curls falling on her forehead. She simply took my breath away, sank my heart and brought hues of red to my hot cheeks before I could draw the slightest gasp.

Why blog?

Hello!

First off, wow! I never thought I would be sitting on my chair and actually sending my thoughts to the vaste ocean of online surfers. But here I am!

Sometimes I (I'm pretty sure it's not just me but most of today's teens and young adults) feel that it just keeps getting harder and harder to completely open up to someone. I mean, there are so many things we need to talk about, I don't know about you, but I could write a book!! However, I don't want to seem like someone who needs constant attention, or someone who needs to express every single minute detail of their life. So I found that the pros of having a blog, a little piece of your mind in the enormous world of data collection, is to be able to type up how you feel, what you think, without ever really expecting people to read it!! I know it sounds pointless, but it actually makes sense! NO PRESSURE!

So let's see, when you know someone for a while, let's say your best friend, you automatically make an image of yourself in her/his mind, that image molds the character you play in her/his life. It's not only your best friend, it's your parents, your siblings, basically your so called "entourage".

Just think about it, you get invited to a party where you know no one. You enter the house/restaurant, they all oggle at you like prejudice-hungry-voltures, trying to place you into their little stereotype table (and you thought they exagerated Mean Girls? WRONG!) with every other fresh meat at the party. The first five minutes you spend in front of them will determine the way they will look at you for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE (unless you do something really unexpected, good or bad).

Unfortunately, I was exposed to this categorizing event at a very early stage in life, I was about 6-7 years old, so young, so innocent. I didn't mind leaving my parents alone to enjoy their grown up time, I ate my food when I was told and didn't fight with the other children. The voltures were of course very impressed with my display of autonomy and maturity; and before I knew it, the new word on the street was that I was the reliable kid. It only got worse afterwards. My academic highs made people talk, they were all interested to know where I was studying now, where I was planning to apply later and my study habbits. While parents idolized me, kids, not so much :( So here I am, protraying the image of the perfect daughter, sister, student, tutor and even mentor (seriously!!???). How was I supposed to know that Perfection was out to bite me in the ass!?

When people say "life goes on" or even better "time flies" they have no idea just how much truth lies in those wise words! With the everchanging time, and with life on the racetracks, I was changing every second and racing my way through life like an olympian, putting my future goals before anything. So when I realized I should slow down and enjoy my youth while I still had time, IT FELT SOO GOOD!! To me at least, I can't say how everyone else would feel. See, there's the other point, where I come from, IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK ABOUT YOU!

Your friends are supposed to accept you for who you are and only judge you when it's funny (code of friendship ;P) But there is only so much that you can tell anyone about yourself; human nature extols you to think, thinking extols you to judge and so you can't help it. So when you open up to people, you should never expect them to take you the way you are 100%. You're like the transfered energy, you are never transfered a 100% to the next medium, there is always a loss somewhere along the line. Same with acceptance, there is always at least a 10% (sometimes it's a crutial 10%) that is lost and replaced by the person your listenner wants you to be. Complicated much? YES!!

So I don't want that, I don't want anyone to feel pressured to understand me. I don't want to be the Da Vinci Code to anyone's Tom Hanks. And what better way to let it all out without "expecting" anyone to care than to write a blog? :)

Geez! I did not expect the first entry to be this long! Haha, but I had to get it out there!

BTW!!!: It's not that I don't care about what you might write to me, your comments are totally appreciated, I just find it easier to take criticism from strangers, because honestly, I don't expect anything more.