Boredom.

At nearly 2am, i know, i'm a beast.

But before that, emo picture... even though i'm wearing an Abercrombie shirt and nothing down below but boxers ;o

List Commence:

***End of List***

I KNOW HOW TO MAKE PEOPLE POST, DON'T BE SMART OR INTELLIGENT, INSTEAD ASK THINGS LIKE THIS.

Tell me Newgrounds, what do dicks look like?

Rest and relaxation? No no no, not that, you've got it all wrong.

This is the story of Iann, the reformed rapist.

I'll be your narrator, i don't need a name, my purpose is simply to convey in great detail the story of this young man who became a metamorphosed monster and eventually into a great man, worthy of any woman, of any cut or culture.

Iann Henson started out as a child, as most people do, surprising i know, he was breast fed until one, and well taught by his single mother, but she suffered from a non-necessary-to-be-classified condition that affected her reaction to a simple mistake.

You see, she was quite ... abusive, if 1 + 1 accidently equalled 4, Iann was beat harder than you can yourself, no matter how hard you beat. Get the point?

Of course you don't, you and I have probably never experienced the kind of pain he had, twas said later in life he seemed to permanently be on morphine (without the dope symptoms, without the pain).

It was amazing to know he lived without brain injury, but i guessed he was merely slapped on his face most of the time, he normally just got broken bones and torn muscles, good thing for the mother they lived in a ghetto, or she'd have been jailed for life.

But at the same time, it's a good thing he was beaten, in fact, it was great, or else this story wouldn't exist.

You see, this pain caused him to distort his vision on how a woman must be treated, his had to punish a girl for even the slightest mistakes, this idea finally formulated when he entered phallic stage of Freudian development, a rather obvious cure came to mind, and that cure came in four little letters.

Rape.

His first victim was Ms. Paula Wilson, she was only ten when they hung out and she tripped and fell, Iann thought, how dare she not be graceful, and proceeding to punish her the way he'd figured was proper, was ... necessary.

She bled a violent hate-filled blood, he riped her underdeveloped insides apart with his 12 year old's member.

He didn't really enjoy the feeling, he knew it felt good, it was nice enough, but as more and more victims piled up over the years, like Kellie Hark, and Amanda Hudgens, both tainted souls raped away of their virginity for all eternity for simply doing something a slight bit wrong in the eyes of the every watching Iann. Poor girls, never to be pure again after tainted by proteins and flagellated sperm, poor little girls.

But one day he choose the wrong girl it seemed, after his normal threats that had worked to keep his secret safe with them, one girl with an uncle cop Ms. Shawna Tate, told on poor Iann Henson, and he was taken in.

He admitted to his rapes, all 127 of them (hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do ok?) and when he admitted them with such proudness and a smile on his face, he was immediately sent to psychiatric therapy.

The treatment he got was rather ... harsh, to say the least from the inmates, many of whom had sisters, a few who had sisters that were victims, Iann was kept under close protection most of the day, but he was battered whenever not, but he began to change.

Something miraculous really, let us simply assume it was because, despite being rather skewed from the collective mean, the kid was a downright genius, he knew everything he ever should, if not more about anything he had to learn, it was rather astounding really, in his eventual report stating he'd re-achieved sanity (as if he'd ever had it), they stated that his cognitive ability to reason was probably why he was able to change so much.

Horray horray, the rapist is released, and now with the mother in jail and the boy 19 years old, he quickly got his GED and applied to a little college roughly 100 miles away from his former home, hopefully out of the way of wandering bounty hunters, wanting the head of the bastard that had probably raped their daughter, or someone they were close to, back in the days of Iann's insanity.

His name was now Jim now, he thought a comical name was more fitting for his new persona.

Afoot Little Hill College he stepped, ready to face the challenges of Calculus and Chemistry.

The first obstacle was much more intense though. Figuring out where the hell class LR257 was, their were so many acronyms floating around Jim nearly went insane ... again. He traveled around like a lost puppy and found a girl to ask.

A very short girl, barely 5 foot if that, hair to her shoulders, in tight curls and dyed a blonde orange mixed in with a natural dark brown, truly a sight to see. After all, her perfections outweighed the mass of Earth, and some, yet she was roughly 100 pounds. Jim felt his heart drop before saying his beautiful first words, which I'll now reiterate.

"Um, uh hi uh hey!"
No answer, just... a confused look.
"Hey yeah um where's like ... um LR257...yeah."

(Even the smartest man can trip over his words in the ... right situation).

She told Jim she was heading that way anyways, 10:30 right? Yes indeed, our little R&R was heading there right now. So they walked together, a name and two were asked, one by each person. Her name was fitting for her. Linda Short, and no she says, it's not a pun.

Jim didn't laugh, he really didn't know how yet. Psychologists don't really teach you things like that, but at least Jim's didn't fail him, after all, her steps weren't amazingly graceful.

Every minute or so she'd trip a tiny bit, but she was a bit busy you must realize, her eyes weren't really in front of her, they were... kinda stuck on someone.

As they arrive at the room she confides in him dreadfully important information, crucial and meaningful. That she has no friends in this room, now a typical male would understand this statement as she's putting down her bookbag and sit down next to her so that they weren't as alone since they'd both have a brand new friend to be with....

Jim isn't a typical male, he says he's sorry and sits a row in front of Linda, god damn it Jim.

She immediately starts picking up her stuff behind him at he sits there obliviously and is almost surprised once she sits next to him and once again says hi. Linda just smiles and takes it as if he was being suave, lucky little Jim had no idea he'd totally just scored a major amount of points with her.

soon the general questions come up.
Where you are from?
What school?
Old friends go here now? (he hoped not)

All of this was so new to Jim, almost annoying he decided to actually pay attention and linda was being a typical girl, eating it up and thinking he was being hardass, the thought of Jim's mysterious ways intrigued her, she was just waiting to know why he was so seemingly dark handsome.

She didn't really want to know, but you can't blame her for wanting to know. Jim just knew that she didn't he knew that really though, she didn't want to know, do you know why yet? Soon enough.

After school Linda actually decided to first move Jim's awkward self and told him they were going to go get coffee, our little Mr. Henson began to blush .... after all he didn't expect someone so beautiful to dare have interest in him... not after what he'd done.... maybe the doctors really had "fixed" him. He began to open up a bit.

Over coffee they got to know each other well, Linda had dark secrets of her own according to her testimony and told Jim she KNEW he did too and wanted to know.

"No."
"... Why not though?"
"I don't want to tell you, it's pretty bad."
"Will you ever tell me?"
"We'll see"

COULD HE BE MORE HARDASS LINDA THOUGHT TO HERSELF, he was so mysterious, he was ... so much different already than the boy that obviously had obviously thought she was cute earlier that day when he was tripping over himself trying to talk to her.

In truth Jim was just worrying, he didn't want to fall back..... not over this girl, though i'll admit that the thing with the chairs was simply the fact he had no idea when a girl was hitting on him, but the suave sleek sexiness? That was all our man Jim, our wonderful R&R.

"You single?"
"Just recently....it's been hard keeping boys."
"Why?"
"What's your dark secret?"
"No."
"Then i'm not gonna tell you why."
"Then i'm not gonna ask you out."
"Oh i'm so heartbroken mister boy i just met."
"You don't have any friends here though, it'd be in our best interest."

To this day Linda doesn't know WHY she said yes that day, maybe it was the whole sleekness of the "it'd be in our best interest," line.

You gotta admit, it's a pretty good line.

He eventually found out why

If it's not obvious already, then please think a little harder.
Iann had already met Linda a long time before Jim ever did.
Iann was the reason boys were hard to keep.
It's hard to trust them after something of that magnitude, after your innocence is torn out of you thrust by thrust, tear by tear.

Jim was rightfully dumbfounded, he didn't even remember her, was he that out of mind, clearly so, you'd have to be insane to forget those eyes.

You only meant well eh dear? All for the best. All what's needed and wanted.

All you'll ever need my love,
all you'll ever want my love,

A broken heart and a fucked up mind.

Thank you dear, thank you.

Hi, it's Chris again, i'm reminiscing on a chick of old. Oh the lord did i used to fuck her hard. Her supple breasts were heaven on Earth i tell you, so tight, Kegel Muscles were perfect and never got old, all so worth it.

But i remember that subtle promise, do you dear?

All i'll ever want she said, just a weekend apart and alone, you stupid bitch, wrong day to go you stupid bitch.

Why all the hate you ask? Because it's her fault, it's her damn fault i can't stop thinking, ever since she left my world it all ended, my sanity. My senses and activeness they died.

What'd you say dear? As you laid dying ... i've always wondered, but i'll never know unless religion is right, sadly, under that pretense i can't just die now and find out dear, i have to wait, it's all your fault, fuck you you son of a bitch.

How dare you die.

What? You didn't hear the story? It caused a lot of trouble for the LASIX eye surgery it did... the dad told the police he just couldn't see how close the headlights were ... they were going 65mph on the busiest interstate in the state... and they just had to be so close...

Let me paint a picture.

Father's car is in front, 100's of cars whiz everywhere around, going 70, 80, 90 ... too bad they didn't know.

The headlights on the turn were heavy, some asshole must've had the brights, the father swerves into what he thinks is an open lane... whoops?

Side swipe, pushing what into and through the midway of concrete blocking the two roads? Nothing else but an 18-wheeler, suddenly it's in both sides of the interstate as cars pile.

2
3
10
20
45
79
and then the final count of 97... 97 fucking cars ... that stupid bitch just had to go down, 213 deaths, 107 expected to be because of the 18 wheeler having expoloded ... oh yes, it was a gas carrier, i neglected to mention the reason she died.

Half their car was obliterated, and yet the father lived, he was one of 4 involved that lived it... that fucker, i'm glad he committed suicide, i hope he rots, for killing her, for fucking RUINING MY LIFE.

Ruining my mind, oh what's that? Where am I? What a hopefully digression you insensitive bastard.

I'm in my stomping ground, the coffee shop. Sipping my 4 dollar java and reminiscing on the death of the sanity i once had. Of the girl i once loved, no name needed, nothing else matters.

She only meant well, just a weekend apart right dear? It's been 3 years now you whore, come back, or are you too busy fucking everything in heaven ... like this girl must. Ew, do you see her?

Pre-destroyed Mini Skirt, probably from Hollister, looks looser than her shirt is the opposite ... she wouldn't care a bit for my story.

Did you?

At all dear? I told them and now i'm asking them if they cared, don't you hear me dear? The weekend's over.

BLARGH, JESUS CHRIST THAT'S DISGUSTING, that bitch must be 300 pounds and she's wearing that.

SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M TRYING TO TALK TO THE DEAD BITCH.

Sorry sir.

The weekend's over dear, cure me of this. Let me continue back on my RIGHTEOUS PATH, my sanity wants a friend not named "in."

Maybe "renewed," maybe "once forgotten," two friends ... that'd be nice wouldn't it dear?

Fuck you for leaving, how dare you. How fucking dare you.

Sorry for the sadness kids, i just wanted you all to know, whether you give a shit or not. I would care less, but that saying doesn't make sense.

Left side's a brand new right, up's down and don't wear tights, too loose when the time is right.

Three wrongs don't make it either, but three lefts can if you think, and that is how i think, and it's why it's so hard. Because it never stops.

A lady passes by, with high heels and a skirt, my mind wanders on more than how easy she'd be to land. I wish it stopped there, that at my seat in the crowded pavilion under heated roofing (they call them malls) i could simply flip over to the next bimbo and imagine if she's shaved or if forest will need to run.

Yet it's
just not
that simple.

You see, i keep thinking, about where it came from, the denim, i mean, i know it's production you fools, that's not the issue.

It's cotton you idiots, tightly woven and colored blue to separate it in appearance from other cotton textiles, you should've fucking known that, but back on track.

Her heels were so high, what if she got used to the pain, or if she really wore them for the fashion, for the stares, so that guys would eye her. What is she's a whore? What if that crevice is .... i've digressed.

Or maybe i just
proved my point.

You see words never stop, and thoughts never stop, think about all the things you never get to imagine the instance you meet someone, and then think of how gross some of them may be, how horrid or disgusting, i think those thoughts.

You know that old lady that passed you last week, the one with the terminal lung disease? I would've wondered why she got the disease, how many of her family or friends died before she became the crazy old woman she may now be? When she dies, will it be in some sort of slow agonizing painful many month long hospital visit, or will it be a cute sudden death in sleep, home with the cats that now love her like her dead husband once did? And, most importantly, how long since she's been fucked?

It's thoughts like that that normally turn heads the other way in digest, or in my direction in surprise, if expressed in word that is to say.

To say and said to sing all songs. Understand that think that thought you thunk was throughout throughly therein and wherein. Believe and breathe in, breathe out and back in, all over again.

They say it'll catch up with me someday, that these thoughts and spoken word and misplaced believes and misunderstood treatments will cause my death, maybe today is that day eh?

What if those three in the gangster outfit, the whigger, the n****r and the beastie boy (sounds like the beginning of a bar joke), heard my aforementioned stereotypical representation of their preference of attire, and took my joke to a level i couldn't beat, on my last life, starting at one, and ending with zero, game over?

What a story that'd be, a boring one eh? Now one would hear the punchline, only the gunshot, and those aren't nearly as funny.

My parents would prefer a comedian to an obituary, but wouldn't we all?

Unless
of course
that day

Someone died hilariously, and the comedian was clean and washed up, then i'd understand the trade, but this is a different situation, get that bollocks out of your skull you fool, and remember what you believe.

My December is to the south, all spoken through word of mouth, it travels faster than a locomotive, Superman can not keep up, with what is going to happen, and to nothing will it stop.

Let's let my story be told another day ok? I'll live onto day to, and maybe make something of these thoughts later on ok?

Be there. Oh, and i'm Chris.

He walks up to my house, cute little walk, slightly feminine, i guess he's a momma's boy, he picked flowers on the way over, you can tell by the fact they aren't roses or anything special. I don't mind

He's a good friend of mine, but i'm scared to love him, god knows quite well he loves me, and i can't seem to get over what Roger did those many months ago.

Sorry if i'm speaking like i know the world, I'm Samantha, I'm barely 17 but that doesn't really matter that much anyways in terms of being grown up, i'm one of those cases. You see, Roger was what girls seem to love.

A boy who shows you everything you ever want, and loves you in every sense of the word, or well, he was, you see, that was his introduction to me, his first impression, from there it was a downward spiral.

I was told this always happens, he knew girls were so easy to manipulate, so he did to me, he gave me flowers and wrote me love letters, sent them to me even though he lived 4 streets away. Took my virginity and then once that night i thought i'd never forget happened, he made me wish i would never remember ... anything.

You see, he was what every girl seems to be with, well, not the lucky girls, but all the girls you know damn well are in shit relationships, when they're good girls.

Now don't you DARE tell me i'm not a good girl, I'D HAVE NEVER LET HIS GRUESOME DICK RAVAGE MY INNOCENCE LIKE A GOD DAMN ETHIOPIAN CHILD IF I KNEW WHAT HE'D BE.

Why do girls never listen to their friends?
Why was i so stupid?
Why did i want him?
...Why do 17 year old girls always seem to have 30 year old stories about 18 year old boys who did what you're supposed to do at 25 ... with a man you love ... after marriage, why did i think it would last forever.
Why did he hit me too?
Why do i have a scar on my face now that's never going to leave?
Why didn't i leave the night i got it?
Why didn't I say fuck you and leave forever?
Why was i so stupid?
Why did i want him?

...But that's the post now, only 6 months, and you assholes may think, THAT'S HALF A YEAR, THAT'S MORE THAN ENOUGH TIME

IT'S NEVER ENOUGH TIME
WHEN YOU GET SOMETHING YOU CAN NEVER TAKE BACK STRIPPED FROM YOU
WHEN YOU LAY WITH A MAN WHO ONLY WANTS TO SEE THE BLOOD ON THE BED TO MAKE SURE HE WAS FIRST
WHEN YOU SWEAR IT WAS THE HAPPIEST MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE AND FORGET ABOUT THE PAIN BECAUSE YOU'RE SO "IN LOVE"
AND THEN .... they do what he did.
When he says he's going in the other room, and put on his ring, and you have no idea what he's talking about.
When he comes back in and says
FUCK
YOU
and leaves a scar on my face now that's never going to fade

When that happened you to, tell me what ENOUGH TIME is ok?

Back to him though ... the real man of this tale ... back to Tom, he has handpicked flowers, he's coming up to my door with my little sister, saying she was lost in a long way away, scaring me to death and then he says "yeah, it's this magical place called across the street."

I almost smack him for scaring me, but my little sister laughed at his cruel joke ... i guess i can forgive him.

He's come to visit me every Thursday since Roger left, i told him the night it happened, he said "I told you." He's such a dick ... but he was right, he told me to leave. He said to keep my pants on, he said i'd just get hurt.

Why was i so stupid?

It doesn't matter though ... not when Tom's there, he comes for two hours, he says it's to help on Chemistry but we never get to it. He's either too busy having tickle fights with my sister because he's more ticklish that she is, or he's playing with my hair because he thinks it's "so damn soft." He has no romantic tactics, i swear, if he was twice as sweet girls wouldn't be able to get enough of him, i swear, if he was half as sarcastic i'd have loved him first, he's just such a dick ... but i love him, even if love still scares me shitless.

Why does he have to be so beautiful ... as a person of course, but so damn lined badly ... think of it this way, that old phrase where someone has a lining on them, the outside, the first impression, you fucking hate him, but if you're one of those people that'll actually take the time to CARE, ... you love him.

Trust me though, he's lucky i've known him since 3rd grade though, the day he through mud in my hair and said "now you're a dirty blonde," where i tackled the hell out of his scrawny figure and he said it was no fair because i was too pretty to hit ... what a dick.

He's coming in for chemistry again ... fuck i need to take a leap of faith ... should i? God damn it i don't know ... no, i can't, he'd have asked me out by now ... maybe he's too afraid, yes, that's it ... UGH I DON'T CARE IF MY SISTER IS RIGHT THERE.

I kiss him, he reacts like he's waited for it all his life, he pulls back and says "wait wait wait, you never took your flowers," ... what a fucking mood killer, i'm kissing him and he cares about the flowers ... why is he so sweet in the wrong ways ... I kiss him.

I rip the flowers from them and put the bouquet behind my ear, like in the old movies ... but with an entire bouquet, he starts laughing.

WE'RE KISSING DAMN IT, WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING!?!?!??!!? "It looks really cheesy."

I want to give up, and ask him, WHAT DO YOU NOT LIKE ME, IS THAT WHY YOU NEVER ASKED ME OUT, IS THAT WHY YOU NEVER SAY "I LOVE YOU SAMANTHA, BYE!!!" WHAT? WHY THE HELL ARE YOU LIKE THIS RIGHT NOW?

He says i can't love him, no one should, ... is he that unconfident, i tell him i do ... i blurt it out like it's the most important thing in the world, and he says i shouldn't, he says it's a waste of time.

A WASTE OF TIME, I GET
TOO MUCH BULLSHIT
ABOUT TIME
AS IT IS, NOW WHEN
I WANT TO LOVE SOMEONE
IT'S A WASTE, he's such a dick.

Why then, why i ask, WHY THE FUCK?

He says it doesn't matter, but that we should sit down AND I QUOTE "so he can play with your hair and make you laugh." ... I don't get it ... he doesn't want to leave? Tell me, any of you, who expected to say "I think i should go?" I did, WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?

And he does ... he plays with my hair and i couldn't stop laughing, i laughed so hard i cried ... i told him ... and when he left he said what he always says, "I know you hate being called Sammie, so, bye Sammie." What a dick.

... Another impulse, i'm going to go to his house, break the cycle. I drive over, thinking what to say, that i was serious, that i am over it now, that i KNOW he was kissing me back, he wasn't rejecting it, that i should love him.

His mother answers the door and says hello to me, and says Tom's in the hospital again... Again? She gets very silent and tells me i should visit, and she'd wonder why Tom always said i was busy ... no matter what day or week or month or season.

He's in a hospital bed ... my cute little Tom boy, the boy i love and he smiles and says, "I told you not to love me, oh and, i won't be able to make it next week."

I'm perplexed and ask why ... his answer is so nonchalant, "yeah, they say i'm gonna die tonight the tumor got really bad about the time Roger left ... sorry for not telling you."

Sorry?
SORRY?
SORRY?
YOU'RE FUCKING GOING TO DIE TONIGHT TOM WHY THE FUCK AM I LEARNING THIS NOW.

He said he cared for me too much for him to be the one that got the attention ... he wanted to make sure i smiled every Thursday, so he never told me. "I told you it was pointless to love me."

Pointless? ... I couldn't love him more ... what the fuck is wrong with him, he must've read the romance novels upside down ... this is so ... he's such a dick ... but i'm always laughing ... i am laughing.

He says it's still Thursday and he didn't even have to tell a joke this time, he said his material must be getting good ... what a dick ... he's dying in front of my eyes and he's acting like ... he knew it was com-

It was then really, that i understood, that i ... got it.

I decided to ask him, how long had he known about the tumor? "4 years." How long did it take you to expect death was so close? He smiles ... he always smiles at the worst times and says "You never expect it, you just have to ACCEPT it, you see, remember when he said he had been having personal issues back all those years, the stuff i was so vague about that AND I QUOTE "it probably fucking ticked you off."

... It did too ... and this was it ... he was learning that death was inevitable no matter who you are, no matter your age.

It was then he told me he loved me ... for the first time and said "I'm gonna die now ok? But before i do i wanna make sure my last words are as follows, Samantha, I will always love you."

I told him to keep talking but he shook his head ... he was just keeping his promise ... he could say it again ... but you can't expect death ... i understood.

It was that night that I told my mother i was sorry, and pulled out dad's gun and pointed it to my head, i had loaded it already. I undid the safety and I told my mother i was sorry.

I filled the gun up, i made sure i'd die and i told my mother i was sorry.
I pulled the trigger ... and it jammed, and i heard something say to me. "Not yet."

Life, is beautiful.

A nice evening rainstorm, it's 3am and i'm laying on my patio, shivering my ass off, not caring if i get pneumonia.

Mouth wide open
hoping i drown
so i don't have to hear it anymore.

They're fighting again, my brother and father, bad too, both are bleeding, both are broken men, both can't stop wanting to kill each other.

Can't sleep
the rain drowns it out
but i still just want to die.

It's only been six months since they died, brother's fiancé and mother. They were sights to behold too, not to sound creepy, but a porn of them would earn millions.

That analogy is too get the point across
to the simply man
take that statement as you wish.

Car crash, a night just like this, too dark i guess, the whippers didn't help, on a turn they car slid ... another happened too at the same time.

No survivors
no alcohol
just a freak accident.

Thus you see, no one to blame, except each other, but i didn't take it out with fists, my muscles were nothing compared to the hardened men beating on each other inside.

I'm so weak
I must drown
let me die.

I close my eyes, the eyes of Johnny boy, no need for a last name, for this is my last time.

Woken up with eyes looking
the eyes of Johnny's girl
an angel from the darkness.

I tried to die mind you, i knew that the rain wouldn't drown me, but i thought to just lay there until i was dead, and here i am at the hospital?

Here i was
are you alright? no
are you ok? no.

Such dumb questions, but i was never asked these by my "family" not after mother and my soon to be sister died.

Yet here
someone cared
and it hit me.

How the fuck did i get here, open your eyes Johnny boy, look around

No brother
no father
two black eyes, on one girl.

Lisa Fairbanks, a little redhead with curly hair and black black eyes, no idea what to classify her as. She said she saw me from the street, she loved walking in the rain at night.

Front porch
bad location
i'll remember that.

She asked why i was sleeping outside, that i had pneumonia now and nearly died. ... Goddamnit, i was so close too. Stupid girl ... stupid ... gorgeous girl. Her eyes were still beaming and she talked of how hard it was to move me and how she slapped me around a bit trying to get my up, she knocked on the door.

Two voices
SHUT THE FUCK UP
GO AWAY.

She said how he cell fritzed on her, said thanks a lot, and smiled, said she'd beat me up when she was better, asked if it was ok, asked why i was quiet, asked if i knew she was kidding.

She's flirting with me
she saved my life
what to do, i have an idea.

I lunge at her, he arms were on the bed already, she was half laying on it already, low cut spaghetti straps, tight short shorts ... soaking wet, i grab her and say thank you so much ... and then ruin the moment.

"Wait
aren't you fuckin'
cold or some shit."

It didn't ruin the moment, she hugs back and laughs and says she was used to it, i was the pansy with pneumonia, she, a short little dollfaced goddess who dragged me to the corner, guided police and went to the hospital.

Said she didn't want to be home
lied and said we were an item
made sure i was alright.

All this ... for me? For a boy who wants to die so badly... no, i won't say that anymore, i don't wanna die, not if angels exist, not if Lisa cares, i blab to her.

Everything
mom, to be sister, brother, father
how i tried to kill myse-...

She jumped on the bed and hugged me back (I guess) before i ended the word, and said it was ok now, and said i look too embarrassed but already knows what i'm getting too, and says yes.

I will
go out
with you.

What the fuck? Wait wait wait, pinch me, OW FUCK DON'T PUNCH ME, I SAID PINCH. She laughed again ... maybe love at first sight does exist, those black holes sucked me in when i never wanted to see light again, Johnny boy lives another day.

The end
this was a happily
ever after, so smile
... ok?

I lay there in the hospital bed, small hospital, dual bedded rooms, they try to keep sexes apart but they were full due to a running through of a new flu.

Twenty people so far have either:
Thrown up
Vomited
Puked
Upchucked
or Hurled to death due to this run, i was in about a week before it started, and have been kept in due to some susceptibility i seem to have, and god damn am i lucky.

She was in due to burns, her skin, her white skin burned pink everywhere.

She was like a snowflake, the most beautiful that could've ever came down to this Earth, and for good reason, she was albino.

She came in a few days after i did according to the nurse, and was transferred over to what had become the "ward" for anyone not dying of the flu, i stopped listening really though when i heard her name.

Imoen Dale, what a strange name
what a beautiful name
what a beautiful girl

She was 15, maybe, HEY DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M ONLY 16, but i wouldn't know, i was so stricken by her, her pink skin, her pale white snowflake body

I kept imagining under that small hospital cloth, i knew i only had underwear, i knew she did too, i imagined if only white would suit her, i wanted her so much.

One day she asked to turn the TV off ... it was 1am and it was only on so she couldn't see i was taking glances at her, and she said "Why do you always look at me?"

Eye to my eye, they were like glass, this light blue with a ring of pink in the middle, they glowed in the shine of the Late Late Nightshow, they radiated this beauty that i know the sun could never match, and two minutes passed.

She asked again ... whoops, kinda got lost there for a bit, i said it was because i thought she was cute ... her blush was like a field of roses, redder than any of her burns, she plunged her face into the pillow and looked up in two seconds "Really?"

I reassured her and asked her name ... though i knew.
I was retold her gorgeous name "Imoen Dale" so mysterious, so beautiful, i was madly infatuated, i may have experienced love at first site ... so stricken by her beauty, still imagining her underneath that sheath.

She called the nurse, whispered to her in the ear and she begins laughing.

She walks over to me, a long-legged intern doll with huge natural breasts (you could tell by the bounce), probably 36D, a sight to see for any man.

Oh yeah, got a bit off track again, so she looks at me and tells me that i was just asked out on a date.

What? BY THE ANGEL?!?!!? MY SNOWFLAKE, THE ONE WHO I THOUGHT OF SO MUCH WHEN THE SHOWER WAS RUNNING (either person of course ... i love dual rooms), THE GIRL I WOULD WATCH AND PEER OVER, TO SEE HER BEAUTIFUL WHITE SKIN AND PINK BURNS

asking
me
out

I nearly fucking fainted, but asked "how?"

Imoen was already up and behind the nurse, she took my hand when the nurse sidestepped ... it was so soft, i was so giddy, i nearly keeled over knowing i'd die happy.

But decided to walk with her instead, the Late Late Night staff paid no heed to our little lover affair, they loved it in fact, two cute little teens, walking hand and hand down the halls of the sick and the dying

such a perfect date, taking her past the cancer patients, talking about favorite foods and colors

past the flu patients, one being rushed to ER as we laughed about how i came into this hospital.

I was shot by the way ... but not in a cool way, just in the shoulder by a hunting ground's stray bullet ... she laughed so much but my embarrassment only heightened when she said she was happy, for they'd have probably never met.

She hated always being inside and wanted to see the sun, but merely a minute of the sun had checked her in for over a week now, poor snowflake, but i was so happy, for we'd have probably never met.

At the end of the night she kissed me before rushing off to her bed and quickly slashing the chains of the overhanging curtain about her bed, i was in shock, i was in love

I needed her.

A few days later we went to the children's play room, must've been one of the biggest rooms in the whole damn hospital, walls scaling twenty feet high, with one wall of windows, it was lit only by the moonlight, and Imoen looked so gorgeous in it, her eyes again gleaming like two sapphires, two diamonds, crystals, i don't know, beyond all of those and those combined, they were amazing, i kissed her.

I pushed her back to the slide, it was a wide one, and she in her little hospital suit landed gently on the plastic.

Our tongues swirled together furiously, nothing too savage or disgusting though, i was in heaven, i pulled a risky moved and moved across her left breast, she jutted back and asked me if i wanted this, if this was all real.

She confessed she imagined me every night, and had learned really quickly to be really quiet about "imagining."

I attacked her once again, and decided to take off my hospital suit, she began to rub her soft hands, the ones i'd begged to be in my hand were now all over my chest, lower and upper, moving across me and i ripped hers in half

she seemed to get excited, and flipped me over and got on top of me (could've called me the rock after that moment in two seconds flat) and undid her bra, as it dropped i was in awe.

Beautiful B34s were now in my sight, the nipples were small and pinker like her still existent burns, they were hard and i was glad to see that that was the case, i was in love, i fondled her softly, she stayed quiet, knowing they could come in any time

but we both loved the thrill, the possibility of being caught, our lower underwears are soon off in this heat of passion, and i was dumbstruck.

She was beautiful down there, shaved to the skin and nothing grossly hung out, the lips were closed together but i could see the glisten of her excitement had begun to come out, i decided it was time she was on bottom again.

i went down to get a closer look, peering the lips apart i see skin as pink as the nipples, and she was so wet, i needed to have her, i needed her.

She asked one more time if it was all a dream, i was breathing above her now, kissing her on the neck and cheeks, and lips and neck once again, hands still cupping her breasts and told her only if she wanted to never wake up.

Take me was her response, so i did.

It was like heaven was just redefined for the twentieth time that week, it began as simply being her face, and now it was this, our union was the most perfect part of my life to date, i began to move back and forth and she pulled me down, squeezing my chest onto her breasts, ripping my back to shreds as her tongue moved inside my mouth.

Back and forth we swayed, her lips grasping me so tightly, with blood darker than her blush running down my hard member, as it moved inside her, her whinces of pain became movements of pleasure she soon began screaming in my mouth, even as our tongues moved i could here her beg for more

her announcements of cumming
her compliments on my size
her love of sex
her love of me
her cumming again

After about 20 minutes, i couldn't take it anymore, normally i could last for hours (not to brag or anything) but she squeezed so tight, she was pulling me in so deep, she asked me to cum inside her, and said she didn't care

not if she got pregnant
not if she got in trouble
as long as i loved her
as long as i needed her

and inside i came, we layed there as our bodies stopped moving and the sweat stopped forming, her body currently on top of mine (3 positions in total, sorry you don't get all the details) she kissed me once more and said we should stay there for the night, to wake up the hospital with a surprise they'd never forget. and so they did.