Bebo

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	Frozen in Reverse
	Restless again. Jumpy. Agitated. I need something new. The old memories don’t work as well anymore. Overplayed. I need something new more often now. First the memories lasted years, then months, now weeks. Will it be days soon? Hours even? I don’t really care. As long as they do the job, it doesn’t matter how often it is. What it takes. I never got caught. I walk along a busy street on the weekend, watching and waiting. Biding my time. It can’t be just anyone. Women glance at me as they pass by. Not for me. At least not tonight. Flirty looks are not returned. I’m not interested. And then I see her. The one. Walking fast with her head down. Alone. Pestered by a group men looking for a laugh. I step in of course. This is just perfect. She doesn’t even look at me, so grateful is she to be rescued. So desperate for attention. I’ll give her attention alright. I can’t help but smile at the knowledge that she doesn’t have a clue what she’s in for. She glances up at me shyly. Turning on the charm isn’t hard. She isn’t pretty. In fact she’s plain. But she has great legs. Who would believe that I would force her? I could have anyone, why would I do that? That’s what people said to the first one who told. Not my first. Just the first one who told. She was fat and ugly and had never had a boyfriend. I fucking hated her. I was 19, popular and had a steady girlfriend. I hated her too mind you but as long as she was around I could do whatever. But I still can’t believe that fat bitch ratted me up. I learned a lesson that day. Never stay close to home. She had to move after that. The humiliation was too much for her. Nobody believed her. That’s a good memory. I was in control. She didn’t have a hope. That memory helps me smile at this one. Charm her. Make her feel secure. She wants me, I can tell. I can always tell. She is amazed at her own luck. When I try and lead her down a side street, she doesn’t even bat an eyelid. Slut. She reminds me of my first. I was only 15 and she was the local idiot. She never even knew that I was doing anything wrong. She adored me even when I hurt her. Like a soft little puppy who adores its master. I’ll always remember her. It’s a pity I went too far with her one day but choking just does it for me and at 15, how are you supposed to know how far you can go without experimenting? I shake my head a little as I realize she has asked me a question and I’ve spaced out again. It’s happening to me a lot lately. Maybe I should take some vitamins or something. I lean this girl against the wall. She gives me what she imagines is a flirty look but it fills me with disgust so I punch her. I almost laugh at the expression on her face. The dumb bitch doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. If I kissed her now, she’d probably think it was her imagination. I punch her again. Just to make sure. The release is amazing. That feeling is so pure yet so decadent and I yearn for it. The bitch tries to move now, tries to run away. As if. I catch her easily and practically throw her against the wall. I grip her throat with my hand as if she were a rag doll. Oh yes. I see it now. Her eyes bulge a little with fear and she’s starting to find it hard to breathe. Her airways constrict and I’m in the zone. I can feel this is going to be a perfect night. She makes those lovely little choking noises as she realizes I’m her god right now. I decide if she gets to live or die. She understands now that I’m in control. I tell her I won’t hurt her if she keeps the noise down. Just for believing me, I release her throat, give her a kiss and bang her head against the wall. The noise thrills me to the core. I can barely contain myself but I have to. Sloppy gets you caught. I need control over her but also over myself too. If I let myself go, I’m fucked. I have to keep a lid on it. I curve my foot around the back of her ankle and push her to the ground gently enough. I see her eyes widen with fear as I lift her skirt. I let her try to run. A little bit of fight is just the thing I need. I pull her back down as roughly as I can and she lands on her knees. I pull her over and lay her on her back. She disappoints me by how little resistance she shows. I lay down on her, lean heavily on her stomach and chest. Stare right into her face just like I always do. I look at her with disgust and hatred because she is the same as all the rest. They all look the same. They all look pathetic. None of them worth remembering. I always forget their faces. Always. If I pass this one by tomorrow, I probably won’t even notice. It’s the eyes that I remember. That look in their eyes. The fear, the disbelief, the shock but above all the death. The way they give up. That look. The look that tells me I’ll never be forgotten. That makes me smile. I get up and let her run again. But I don’t feel like letting her go. I chase her, catch her easily and wrap my arm around her neck, squeezing as hard as I dare. I push her onto her stomach but she struggles, tries to fight me off her. At last. That’s exactly what I need tonight. I kneel on her back, push her face into the filthy pavement and make her less than nothing. I take away her worth and I feel great. That’s all I want so I hurry up to finish. I rip her underwear away and expect her to cry out, move, something, anything. But she can’t even do that so as punishment I rape her as hard as I can and I pray that I hurt her badly. I imagine the look on her face as she tells her shame and come with a happy sigh. She is so still that I’m sure I’ve gone too far again so I roll her over to check. She is still alive. She’s just given up. Pathetic little bitch. I fucking hate her. I look at her and try to remember her face but even as I stand over her, the features slip away into nothing. Only the eyes remain. I fucking hate her. She disgusts me. They all do. I kick her as I walk away. Nobody gives me a second look on the street. All too drunk and happy to care that an animal lies bleeding and crying in the dark side street beside us. I hail a taxi and soon get home. I pour myself a glass of blood red wine and listen to Bach in peace. I remember her eyes. Her fear. Her emptiness. That look. My power. A great night altogether.
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