Saturday, August 19, 2006

12

I'm looking at him now. He's watching television. He loves television, as much the other kids love playing outside, which is why I like him right now. He won't know what hit him, he won't even know what to do with this, because I will be amazing , I will be the best he ever had, and he will love me. I will watch him like I am paid to. I will watch him like prey, until I am ready. I will be amazing, I will be the best he ever had, and he will love me. I'll make cereal for him, he loves cereal. I'll call him to eat. I'll watch him. I will study as I stare, because I need to be sure. I will be his first, and I need to be sure. I will stare at him and he will feel my eyes as he eats. It will make him nervous, it will be the first time a woman has ever looked at him like that. Like I want him. Like I want him right now. He feels my eyes as he eats, and he eats slower in fear. He has no idea. I will be amazing, and he will love me. I will ask him if he likes me. He says yes, but he doesn't understand; so I will ask him again. I will look him in the eyes with all the lust within me until I see the innocence within him shake in fear of its inevitable death and I will ask him again. He says yes, because he has to, because he is scared not to. I tell him to touch my breast, because I know he wants to. He is afraid, he is excited in a way that scares him. He is frozen. His fear excites and disgusts me. He starts to say no. I slap him and he cries; I tell him to stop, because I can't do anything with his tears. I tell him again. His hand reaches under my shirt searching; his fingers pause, finding. They pause at the touch and his mind is blown. I tell him to touch it, not just sit there. I am a woman, and he is a boy; he should be honored to lay his hands on me so I demand he do so. He shakes and obeys, shivering as he squeezes. He is excited and scared, he is scared that he is this kind of excited, he has never known this. I tell him to place his mouth on me. He pauses again, with his eyes asking, begging no with my eyes promising a slap for his disobedience. I am a

16 year old woman,

and he is an

8 year old boy,

he should be honored.

I pull my shirt up, he pulls his hand away. I pull his mouth to me. He does what I need him to, and he is mine, for once a male child's lips touch the breasts of another female besides his mother he no longer belongs to her. I make him stop. I tell him to lock all the doors. I don't worry about him running away, he won't think of it, he can't think. He is mine now, beyond thought. I call him to the den where I wait for him below hide-a-bed sheets with clothes aside, and he sees me, all of me. I tell him to take off his  clothes but he is already naked, stripped of pride, of innocence. I tell him to take off his clothes, and he does so. He is mine now, below thought. The little boy, the human being he was will die today, and whether or not he ever sees me again he will feel my stare in the eyes of every woman he ever knows, much less the ones who love him. He is less than human now, barely what I want, and I don't care, I can't-only I want him for a few minutes, and he will be mine forever. I will be amazing , I will be the best he ever had, and he will love me.


--
Absit Invidae