Things went on like that for years. Every birthday, I would have to give James' friends sexual favors. He said it would teach me things. Teach me what I should do. Teach me what I should be like.
For his birthday, he wouldn't let anyone touch me. He would force me to sit and watch him have a prostitute. He'd tell me I should be more like them. No complaining, no crying. After he was done, he would dismiss him or her, and make me give myself to him. I always felt so dirty. I was such a whore.
One night, he called to tell me he was sick. I was so happy. I needed some time away from him. And for the first time in so long, I went out. I went out to have fun, to make friends.
I went to a small club, not too far from my apartment. This was going to be my last night of conversing. My last night of everything. I had a razor at home, waiting for me.
I sat alone, watching people have fun. Their laughs drowned in the loud music, their faces illuminated by coloured lights. I had a few drinks, wishing I could look that way. Happy. I glanced over to the dance floor, and there I saw him.
A gorgeous man. I watched him. He was beautiful. Like a diamond, glistening with morning dew, poking itself out of a dirt mound. I stood up, ignoring the perverts talking to me, trying to score. Most people thought I was a woman. But that's the way I wanted it to be.
As I got closer, he started to seem more familiar. His eyes were beautiful. He didn't notice me, but from the quick sight I had of them, I could tell. His lips were perfect. Just full, and gorgeous. His face was covered in piercings, but I could see behind them. His hair was black, shining a nice green. Describing him is hard. He was breathtaking.
Everything seemed like it was in slow motion. I approached him, my heart fluttering, and my body trembling.