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The Walk of (No) Shame

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I’m… no, what I am is too tired – no, not tired, deliriously exhausted – to write this. Maybe after sleep.

[Writing changes from blue to black ink, and slightly neater cursive]

Okay, so I had one of those days. You know, the kind where you wake up in the morning thinking your day’s gonna go one way, and then having it take a full-tilt swing in the other direction? Yeah. Those days. Not gonna lie, being on this island is kinda like being at a buffet after being on an all liquid cleanse for a week. Actually meat here, if y’know what I mean (and of course you do, because you’re me). Not as many men here as women, which strikes me as a bit strange, but the men that are here generally seem… thirsty, as if they don’t have a dozen women for every one of them to take for a dip. I’d complain, but that’s just not gonna happen, at least not today.

See, the thing is, pretty much felt like the guys I’ve been attracting were either so pent up they forgot the basic necessity of manners, or too busy chasing tail to realize mine was right there. The hell is with extremes these days? When I snagged this place up for Cas and I to live in, I was pretty pleased to realize my new neighbor is the damn sexy guy I ran into the bar the other night. Found out his name is Shadow. Not sure if that’s some sorta alias or nickname or if his parents were just plain quirky, but whatever, I go by Kitten, so who’m I to judge? As I was getting acquainted with the place the first night I saw him passing by the window. Went out to say hi. It got a little friendly, but damn if I didn’t get shot down when I invited him in. So instead of getting friendly with him, I just got a little friendly with my fingers that night. What’s new? Little annoying he had time to rub one off next door, but not just indulge in a quickie. Meh. But then? Yeah, the next night he comes parading by with some other chick. Didn’t hear anything from them that night, but I didn’t stick around the next morning to find out if breakfast included sausage…

So the day actually started out like normal. Headed up to Coach’s. Cas wanted to stop by for some reason. I figured he just wanted a drink. I stayed outside for some fresh air, then smelled food cooking at Sam ‘n Ella’s. Headed over for a bite, and damn if I hadn’t just gotten my food when I felt it. You know, that prickle? The one you tend to get when you pass by a mirror and it’s pitch black? Yeah that one. Wasn’t a mirror though. Was that fucking terrifying Russian guy. I was -sure- he was going to just run me through after shooting his girl the other night, after that ominous threat he left me with. But nope. He was calm. Too calm. He said we needed to talk, and what’d he do? Held his damn hand out expectantly. I mean, not gonna lie, in that moment I’m pretty sure I felt like I was going to puke. I was so nervous. I knew making a scene wouldn’t do me any good, even with Cas right across the street. We live on a damn island after all. So what if I’d gotten away from him then? It wouldn’t have taken much to find me another time, and I wager he wouldn’t have been so polite again if he’d had to ask twice.

He lead me to the amusement park. Man, when that gate closed I felt like I got shoved into a cage with a hungry lion. We were alone and out of the way. I have too active an imagination. I was thinking up all sorts of things he was going to do to me, like stringing me up by my toes on the ferris wheel and flaying me. But… I was so wrong. We started talking. Rather, he started the talk, I sort of just responded, realizing that the hole I dug myself was way deeper than I originally realized. I had been so ready to receive the beating of my life, that the last thing I anticipated was what came next. He touched me. Just a light touch, right along the inside of my thigh. Ho-lee-shit if it didn’t set me on fire. There is something to be said for terror. It leaves you emotionally vulnerable, and terror quickly turned to shamelessly ignited desire.

I don’t believe in God, but damn if I’m not starting to believe in the Devil, and I’m pretty sure somehow I signed my soul over to him last night, if not in blood, then in flesh. It wasn’t enough that he handled me like a puppet on a string, getting me to dance for him with such subtle movements of those fingers. Those fingers… fuck. I don’t think there’s an inch of me they didn’t touch by the time the sun came up this morning and we untangled for the first time, probably out of nothing more than sheer physical exhaustion. I still don’t know how I didn’t call the whole island of whatever Z’s are left, but being quiet wasn’t exactly on my agenda. What I wouldn’t give for some tea today though, because my throat feels like it got the rub down of a century with sandpaper.

After he walked me home I got that look from Cas. The one that said “still in the same clothes huh?” and that shit-eating grin of his that taunts me with “I know what you did”. I hadn’t meant to worry him when I didn’t come home, but sorry not sorry. I told him I’d explain later, but sleep came first. All I remember was falling asleep thinking that no drug could addict me like that man did, and that when I feel like going on vacation…? I’m going to visit Russia.