Vanity. Ares

myself back to my room; four walls, noise from
above (not God), and that Sunday passed,
uneventful due to Maria’s diligence and protection
of her flower, her good spot, her sweetness. At
that time, I was still unpopular with quite a few of
the residents of the house. I knew this because
Beckett would fill me in on that next Monday
morning, in which the night previous was to be
honest spent dreaming about Maria. On the
Monday, Beckett told me that Carly, a rather butch
lesbian that lived on the second floor hated me. I
sighed and realised that it had probably started
that night when Beckett had a few people over to
his apartment room: there were a few druggy’s in
attendance — I could tell from the tract marks on
a few of the guys arms and of course there were a
few of Beckett’s friends from within the house.
Carly was in attendance and she was talking to
Anais, Beckett’s girlfriend, about something I
could initially not work out, as I stood near the
kitchen sink, drinking a beer and eating a great
slice of pizza: pepperoni, barbecue sauce, extra
cheese. I remember telling myself to savour the
food because I was running out of money at the
time, as usual.
As Anais and Carly spoke I then overheard;
“Can you believe that Amber just forced the dildo
in, she is freakishly strong, I was really upset with
her, it’s like rape, isn’t it?” said Carly, before I
moved a little closer as it did pique my interest;
yes it was interesting as it seemed unusual: a
female raping another female, this seemed
strange. “She just acted like it was ok, but it’s not
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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