Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for mature content.
I didn’t get any sleep until 4.00 a.m. I could still feel Amethyst’s soft kisses on my neck. I was concentrating on her ‘Doctor/Patient’ excuse. Why couldn’t we be together? Who cared if we were different? A lot of different people fall in love with eachother. Unless she had something I didn’t. She probably already had a boyfriend! No, Amethyst was not like that. She would never cheat on someone. Her heart was too kind. Also, were the hoods serious when they called her a virgin? How could someone that beautiful be a virgin? I must admit; I will be very happy for the young man who takes her innocence.
Bored out of my mind, I decided to go through my secret stash. I found a new addition of Playboy which I had wasted my money on a few days before. On the front was one of those blonde plastic girls who dress in those stupid bunny costumes. The only reason I have these magazines is not because I want to gawk at naked chicks all day long. I read them because I wanted to know why these girls do all these things. Were their parents like my Mother? How could anyone let their daughter be a dominatrix? There was once this one girl though. She looked very innocent. She sort of reminded me of myself. Not in appearance for her hair was black but had pink streaks in it. She wore a red baseball jacket with little black hot pants. She had red earrings and had a necklace with a gold chain and green pendant. The description of her appearance did not match mine. She was pretty. I wasn’t pretty. I was ratty.
When I fell asleep, I had a dream. A dream I never ever thought I would have ever.
I was sitting on a bed with the girl from the magazine. The one with the black and pink hair. She wore the exact same outfit. I didn’t know this girl but decided to ask;
“Why do you do what you do?”
She gulped as she looked at me. It looked like she was going to cry. A lump developed in my throat.
“Because no one cares...” she simply said with a pained voice, “I once knew a boy. No one cared. So he killed,” she paused as if she was trying to hold the tears from falling. I felt sympathy for her, “I don’t want to kill. So that’s why I do it. Every night, I have someone to care for me. I care for them too. Then, the next day, they are gone...”
I now sat directly in front of her. She was looking at her hands. I looked at her eyes. I took her chin in my hand and lifted her face towards mine. And then, I kissed her. Just like Amethyst had kissed me earlier under the stars. The girl kissed back roughly, pulling my top off me. Once it was off, I pushed her jacket off her shoulders as she slipped down her hot pants. All she wore now was some Victoria’s Secret underwear she probably spent $100 dollars on so someone would at least care.
She then lay down. I began to kiss her neck exactly how Amethyst kissed mine. The girl gasped as I sucked on it a bit. I then lowered my kisses to her chest. Her skin was soft and smelt nice instead of perfumed.
“I do it because you care right now...” she whispered as I lowered the kisses. I began to lick her stomach and navel. Her skin tasted very sweet.
“I do it because you love me,” she whispered again arching her back.
I then returned to her face to kiss her on the lips again. Her kisses felt like Amethyst’s.
And then, I woke up...
The sun flooded into my window and blinded me. I could hear light wind from outside. I guessed it was around 10.00. Mother usually woke around that time. I could hear her dreadful singing from downstairs. But I was more focused on the dream I just awoke from. I never dreamed of kissing girls like that. I don’t think I ever would kiss a girl like that.
Especially not Amethyst. She was too innocent.
I then averted my eyes to the Playboy magazine. It was opened at the page with the girl from the dream. She didn’t just look innocent. She looked sad...alone maybe. Maybe that was why I felt the connection to her. I’m alone...
Later, I sat with Mother in a cafe. God knows hwy she brought me to a cafe. We barely leave the house.
She sat and rambled on about that story Wuthering Heights like she always does. I cursed God for inventing Emily Brontë. It was only after awhile that I realised that she had asked me a question. Usually when people ask me questions and I’m not listening I simply say, ‘Yeah, I totally agree...’ Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.
“Yeah, of course we could but then the walls would look too blue and I...”
Bla bla bla...
“So, how was the movie yesterday?” Mother asked. I was lucky I heard her before I could zone out.
“Oh, inspiring...” I said sarcastically. She could see it, “OK, it was messed up.”
“And how was the walk home with Amber?” She asked.
“It’s Amethyst...not Amber,” I corrected her as I winced, “And yes it was fun. In fact we encountered a few hoods and had a great laugh with them.”
“Well, it’s good to see you’re making friends,” she didn’t catch the sarcasm that time, “friends with the vermin.”
I sighed. She was just contradicting herself again.