Shhhh… Don’t Make A Sound-

(photo credit: maround.com)

He was already shoeless and shirtless when he entered the hallway. He’d left his shoes on the porch at the back of the house, his shirt, drenched in sweat, was someplace in the room he’d just come from. He eased his way through the darkness being more careful than he’d ever been. He knew if he so much as stumbled, he would prematurely awaken the only tenant in the bungalow, a beautiful, young female with piercing blue eyes. He’d been enamored with her since the day he’d met her in the hospital ER two years ago. Although he was young, and this would be his first time, he knew he was ready.

He slowly approached the door and pressed his ear to it. When he was satisfied that it was safe to go in, he eased the door open and tipped into the room.

With a sudden sense of urgency and anticipation, he hurriedly exposed himself, stepped up on the stool and urinated in the “big commode” all by himself…for the first time. He couldn’t wait to wake his mommy because he knew she would be so proud of him.

Please stop—

The up and down motion was making me nauseous. The only reprieve was the occasional lull created when he slowed to catch his breath. My inner thighs were sure to be sore and bruised and my legs ached so badly that numbness would have been a welcome sensation. I knew I couldn’t last much longer, but I was afraid of what might happen if I tried to stop him. I also knew that shifting in any direction, to ease my pain, would likely interrupt his rhythm and that would in turn, cause him to lose control.

 

I guess riding that tandem bike through the streets of San Francisco wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Not My Face

                              

 

She woke to find that the sun was no longer beaming on her face. Noticing that the temperature had dropped, she instinctively wrapped her arms around her body. She knew she needed to either adjust the thermostat or get a sweater because her short sleeved top was obviously no match for the cool October night. Ava stood and made her way to her bedroom closet. She chose a soft, fluffy throw instead of a sweater. She put it around her shoulders and walked over to her dresser where she sat and brushed her hair. Although she was facing the large oval shaped mirror, the reflection looking back at her was not her own, but that of a stranger, holding a knife in one hand and duct tape in the other.

Blind since birth, Ava never saw him coming.