I stroke her beautiful, creamy skin. “I love you,” I murmur, burying my face in her gorgeous, unusual hair color.
“Why?” She whispers, catching me off guard.
I break away from the embrace, and stare into her deep, green eyes.
“Why not?”
“They don’t like me,” She croaks, tears brimming her eyes, “They hate me.”
“They don’t hate you, baby,” I say, sliding my hands down her waist.
She slaps my hands away, and smacks my face. “How dare you! Is sex only on your mind, Karen?”
She caught me off guard. “Don’t slap me,” I growled, “You are disgusting! How dare you accuse me! Do you know what is going in my mind?”
She grunts, rising. “You only care for yourself, Karen! Do you care for me? My feelings? Do you know I’m hurting?”
She balls her fist, yelling in anger. “I feel uncomfortable! Your parents hate me, Karen! They hate you, too!”
I rise. “Don’t talk about them, like that,” I bark. I slap her cheek aggressively.
That shut her up. Not only the painful words, but the slap.
She stares at me, her big bright green eyes brimming with tears.
She whirls away, sprinting off. I sigh.
“Kathleen,” I called. “Kathleen, come back!”
She ignores me, picking up her pace.
I sigh. It’s very dark out, and I hope she doesn’t do anything stupid.

Three weeks earlier-

“W-we shouldn’t do this, Karen,” Kathleen murmured, grabbing my wrist. She takes my hands off her leg.
“Relax,” I said, grinning seductively, “We’re in the girls’ Bathroom. Anyways, the school is in the auditorium.” I rub my hand on her inner thigh.
“S-stop!” She cried.
She rose. “I-I can’t this!” She whirls away from me, zipping her plaid skirt. “I-I’m sorry, Karen.”
I grunt in dismay and annoyance.
“What is your problem? It’s not like your going to get pregnant.”
“No one even likes us together,” Kathleen said, tears stinging her eyes, “What would they do if they found us together, in bed, naked?”
“They won’t,” I said, stroking her hair.
She slapped my hand off. “I’m sorry.”
I rolled my brown eyes.
I studied Kathleen:
She has a killer body, very curvy but petite. Another thing, she has silky waves of black hair that reaches before her waist.
Her eyes are a bright, almond-shape green.
She is French, which my family doesn’t approve. I come from an Indian background.
I fell head over heels with her.
The first four months was amazing.
Now, all I thrive on is Sexual intercourse.
“I’ve got to go,” Kathleen suddenly said, interrupting my thoughts.
She turns to go, but I grab her arm.
“Where are you going, sweetie?” I asked, grinning.
“I-I’m going to go to the Auditorium,” She mumbled, “I don’t like skipping class. It’s useless, anyways. You should go, too.”

“Not so fast,” I murmured darkly.
Kathleen widened her green eyes, trembling. “Karen…” She croaked, “I-I have to go.”
“No. Not until I get it!” I pinned her against the wall.
She screamed. “Karen, please! I’m begging you!”
I leaned in forward, forcing our lips together to shut her up. I shove my tongue down her throat. “You’re staying here,” I growled darkly, my hands riding down to her breast.
“Stop!” She screamed, “Please!” I felt a tear roll down her cheek.
I unzip her skirt. Suddenly, I felt my stomach lurch. I felt guilty.
I released her, and she collapses into sobs.
She quickly zips on her skirt, and opens the door.
She bolted out, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I felt horrible.


Present:
Kathleen-
“Please,” I murmur to the handsome man, “I’m begging you.”
“What for?” He asks, “Being bullied?”
“No,” I said, running my fingers through my black hair. “Just… please, OK?”
He sighs. “Fine.”
In a few minutes, everything was ready.
A tear rolls down my cheek.


Karen-
As I walk inside my house, my parents stare at me.
They whirl around.
It’s been normal; everyone ignoring me except Kathleen.
She’s been the only one there for me, and I’ve treated her nothing but trash, attempting to rape my own true love.
They didn’t like it.
Suddenly, the telephone rings.
I get to it before my bratty Mom, and I put the green phone to my ear. “Hello?” I murmur.
“Hi,” Said a manly voice. My heart stops.
“W-who is this?”
“I’m Kyle. I’m deeply sorry…” There was a sudden sorrowful pause, and I knew something was wrong.
“Your girlfriend, Kathleen…”
Please. Oh, god no.
Tears sting my eyes.
“She hung herself.”