I've been wicked for as long as I could remember. Unlike most of my childhood playmates I've always seen the opposite sex as a separate entity. As something I had a strange urge to play with; to tease; to torture; even my ken dolls suffered as I would run my hand over their solid bulky bodies I was filled with an intense desire to twist their rubber heads off and place them on my fingertips and play out my fantasies. They never said a word in my pretend games except when I would imagine the devil speaking through them, and even that was just to flatter me. No one ever caught on to my character which is one of the many reasons for my quiet disposition. And being the only child in my home with my overworked mother helped conceal my fatalistic fetishes. Or that was the way it went for sometime until the boy arrived.
My mother rarely ever spoke of her family and besides me I wasn't aware she had any other relations until he arrived on our doorstep that day. There he was my wayward cousin wearing a threadbare band tee-shirt and dirty sneakers. Mother seemed just as shocked as I to see him standing there. Apparently, his father (who was my mother's brother) had kicked him out shortly before he remarried. And the boy's biological mother had passed away some years ago. I could still see the pain in his dark eyes and it excited me to such a degree I could feel the butterflies swell in my stomach. After hearing his story my mother accepted him with open arms. I welcomed him as well and when I hugged him I could feel his spine through his thin shirt and I imagined how fragile his bones must be. He must have seen it in me then because after we broke from our embrace I could see him shiver which may have thrilled me the most.
There was a change in the household after he arrived. I could smell his musky odor already engraved in the walls and in the furniture especially on the couch which was where he slept. While he was away I would lay on the couch and suck in his scent so tightly I'd almost choke on his aroma. I had never been around the male sex before Mother never had any boyfriends and I trembled at the possibly of seeing his nubile body nude. One night I had my chance it was around three in the morning and Mother wasn't home from work yet. It started off innocently enough I was just going to get a glass of water from the kitchen when I saw the custard-yellow light leaking from under the bathroom door. As if drawn to the glow I stumbled blindly forward I could hear the water running my pulse immediately increased. As I reached for the doorknob I felt like Eve with the apple just within my gasp. Gingerly, I pushed the door open and at first all I could see was the steam the hot water was generating. Then I looked to the shower and I could see his blurred naked form through the glass. He was hunched over with his thick dark wet hair covering his face. I could hear him faintly moaning. I crept in closer keeping low to the orange linoleum. My heart was beating so quickly I wondered if he could hear it. I looked at his soft hands (too soft for a boy his age. Countless times I had imagined sticking needles into his weak flesh dreaming of how much he would bleed. The thought made my lips dry.) they were gracefully, carefully gliding up and down his shaft. He was panting heavily I could hear him utter a name over and over; pleading with it; begging it to release him. And in that moment I knew he was going to be mine. I was going to take this little bird and make it sing for me. When he was finished I slipped out of the bathroom just as easily as I had entered. I had always been a ghost in my own home even perhaps a ghost in my own life. I went to bed that night still hearing his voice uttering that name. I rubbed myself between my legs his naked form floating above me panting that name to me as if it were a secret just for the two of us. And even though I had no idea who the name belonged to it ignited my soul made the ghost inside of me rise up from its grave. Then the next day she came over.
It irritated me to see how his face lightened up when she was around or how awkward he would become in her presence. I hated her flat pale face marred only with the occasional blemish from her youth. She was the perfect villain in my fantasy with her dull grey eyes and flash of cherry-red hair. And worst of all, my little bird pined for her.
I heard them talking about me once. They were on the couch in the living room his queen was mounted on top of him shuttering her hips back and fourth with her slender fingers tugging at his dark crown of hair. While he had his hands wrapped so tightly around her thighs I could see his knuckles whiten. "Take off your underwear, Demi. Let me feel you," he begged his lower lip quivering slightly. "Come on, I can feel how wet you are." She stared at him with those dull eyes and shook her head no. "Why?" he panted kissing her full lips. "What's wrong?"
"Not out in the middle of the living room," she said coldly completely unaware of his plight. "What if your cousin sees us?" he made a huffy sigh and stroked her face. "She's probably in her room. Don't worry she won't come out," he said softly caressing her breast with his other hand. "She doesn't have a lot of friends does she?" she said as if she pitied me. "No wonder with a frigid mother like that," I could feel the anger burn down my spine. "Her mom's okay, but she's kind of…" he paused grimaced.
"Ari, don't tell me your afraid of a little fifteen-year-old girl." she teased then studied the expression on his face. "You are!" and then she cruelly laughed at him. He pushed her off his face turned a little red. "She just reminds me of someone," he answered flatly. From my hiding spot I could see the bulge in pants and I was pleased she wouldn't take off her underwear. If she had I would have killed her; no one was going to touch my little bird. Then the little whore sat between his legs on the floor and coolly asked if he wanted her to go. He looked at her longingly and shook his head no. Even though, I turned my head away I could hear her undoing his fly. Her mouth making soft sucking sounds. I looked again and watched as he gathered a ball of her red hair in his hands from her bobbing head. He leaned his head back and groaned deeply.
I tipped-toed back to my room and picked up a headless ken doll I had kept out from sight. I ran my fingers over his naked body as I had done many times before while tears gushed from my eyes. The fire that had once burned inside me had died down leaving me in my ghost-like shell. I turned to my nightstand and picked up a lighter I had stolen from my Mother's purse and set it to the defenseless doll's plastic skin. I burned a bubbling black spot in the center of his chest and while he smoldered I was seized by a torrent of emotions and began to manically laugh through my tears. I laughed until I grew hoarse and my tear ducts were dry from crying so much. I'm not aware of how long or how loud I carried on like this for because when I tired I looked up to find him standing in the doorway eyes set on me. "What are you doing?" he asked coldly. I gave him a blank stare and unlit the lighter placing it back on my nightstand. He came into my room and snatched the doll away from me. The pained look on his face as he inspected the headless doll made me quiver with pleasure. I grinned and I could see that troubled him further. "Is this your idea of fun? You're fucked up, you know that right?" I didn't respond to him at that moment I wanted to sink my nails into his supple skin if only he would look at me like that forever. His disgusted face awakened every single nerve in my body. I closed my eyes and I could taste his smell in my mouth envisioning him panting in the shower. I had forgotten he was still standing there trying to speak with me. I was lost in a world of my own perverse bliss. Suddenly, I felt his soft hands firmly placed on both of my shoulder blades; he was violently shaking me back and fourth to get my attention. I could feel his frustration through his fingertips and his touch went straight to my groin. I opened my eyes and wet my lips. Then she interrupted our intimacy. "Ari, are you coming back?" his stone fox called from the living room. He released his grip from my shoulders. "I'm going to tell your mom," he threatened. I touched my shoulders half hoping they would bruise from his touch. "I'll be waiting for you," I whispered. He stepped back away from me and childishly grabbed the ken doll stashing it in some secret place before he went into the living room. From the shadows I watched them she had taken off her underwear. The discarded undergarment was cleverly placed on the couch's arm. However, her panties went unnoticed as he numbly sat beside her on the couch. And although he seemed slightly perturbed she still slyly climbed into his lap her mind solely focused on her sordid agenda. "I've been out here thinking about that pretty little mouth of yours," she said softly running her fingers over his mouth. He sucked on her fingertips and sighed heavily lifting her from his lap. She laid herself on the couch with her lower half exposed and waited for his eager mouth to embrace her. I watched as his tongue skillfully flicked over the surface of sensitive skin before engorging itself. Her grey eyes were now tightly shut and she seemed to be drifting off into another place and even there he could not reach her.
After that he stayed away from the house even though he never told Mother anything about that day. I began to wonder if he knew that I had been secretly watching him all this time. I grew restless waiting for him; missing his presence in the house. I began hiding ken doll parts in the couch just to get a rise out of him. (It didn't work Mother found them and scolded me how fifteen was too old for dolls.) I desperately craved his touch the memory of him violently shaking me left me haunted. These thoughts followed me into my bed at night leaving me awake and wanting more. But, it was no use he knew my true character now. I knew what I had to do.
I waited for months bided my time until the perfect moment arrived for me to cage my little bird. It happened one evening when Mother had asked him to watch over me while she was working a night-shift. There had been a pervert on the loose who had been spying on little girls in the neighborhood and she didn't want me to be left alone. (Little did Mother know.) He did have plans with his ice queen, but she denied him her company leaving us all alone in the house together for hours. I had set my trap and as we sat on the couch watching television I waited for my little bird.
We were watching some mindless reality TV show and although our eyes were fixed on the television set we were both aware of one another. He hadn't allowed me to be close to him since that episode in my bedroom. Even though he sat on the other end of the couch it was a comfort to have him in a close vicinity to me. I was startled when I heard his voice, "Why'd you do that?" I looked at him shocked. He kept his eyes on the television and quietly asked again. When I didn't answer he pulled the ken doll from its hiding spot under the couch holding it in his hands. "Madeline…" he started but his eyes were heavy and I watched on as he tried to shake off the sleepiness, but he was too far gone. By the commercial break he was fast asleep. He would sleep as soundly as child I had seen to that. He lay there as motionless as the disfigured doll in his hands. I put my head on his warm chest and listened to him breathing making sure I hadn't given him too much . His heart beat was strong and I could feel the rhythm of his spirit. I raised my head and put my lips gently on his and carefully removed the doll from his hands placing it next to the soft drink I had drugged him with. I could taste the chalky bitterness of the pills on my lips. Mother always left her stronger pain meds unintended. I licked the side of his neck sucking softly on his collarbone tasting the mixture of his sweat on his skin. I wanted to devour his body to know it inside and out. I unbuttoned his shirt and revealed his bare chest. How his little frame thrilled me so! I ran a hand down over his pink nipple and watched in curiosity as it erected itself he was nothing like my ken doll; his flesh was alive and responsive to my touch it made my mouth water. I ran my mouth down his torso and when I rubbed him I felt him harden. His body was mine for the taking and I was eager to possess it.
While my fingers were fumbling with his pants I heard him whimpering like a beaten dog I realized he was quietly protesting. I stopped what I was doing worried he was coming out of it and listened to him. "No…no Marie not tonight," he begged. Suddenly, I remembered him alone and seemingly tortured in the shower by this name 'Marie' pleading to this 'Marie' woman while touching himself wanting to be free of her. "He'll hear us…please…he's my father…leave me alone tonight…why?" he began to shudder while tears tumbled from his eyes then he mumbled a few other inaudible things. Eventually, he settled down and laid still as before. I sat there with the television murmuring in the background staring down at my damaged little bird with his startling drugged confession weighing heavily on my mind. He had caught me off guard with the doll bit, but now I was completely dumbfounded. I tried to imagine him and his Marie entangled in his father's married bed with their secret lovemaking and afterwards if he would wrap his wimpy teenage arms around this grown woman. Or if she would kick him out of her bed once she was finished with him. I could picture him walking down the hall in the nude shamefully holding his soiled clothes making sure not to forget one article of clothing so not to arise suspicion from his father. I thought of all the restless nights I had envisioned him in my bed and now knew my little bird must have felt that need too. The desire to consume someone who could never belong to you. I had never felt such a connection or erotic urge for anyone before.
I felt childish as I pulled down his pants and looked at him naked. I studied him with a simple curiosity arose from my inexperience with the male form. How small and boyish he looked, even though, he was three years older than me he appeared so meek without his clothes. I investigated every inch of him took note of every scar or stray hair. How strange and beautiful the human body truly is. Shyly, I peeled off my own clothes and nestled my head in his chest laying my body against his. I wrapped my own wimpy arms around him trying to capture the sensation of my flesh on his. It suddenly occurred to me I had never experienced or given any type of embrace to anyone. I looked up at Ari's sleeping face and felt a tinge of loneliness that I desperately needed to fill. I wept as I covered his body in kisses then slowly mounted myself on top of him. Putting his hands on my thighs I curiously rubbed myself against him (feeling myself begin to moisten in the process) I shuttered my hips back and fourth until I felt him harden and then lowered my head to his waistline. At first I flicked my tongue gently up and down his shaft before I took him in my mouth. And gently sucked on him, hearing him moan for Marie, and I knew that I could be his Marie. I wanted to be his Marie and when he released in my mouth I swallowed him to cherish his taste. Once again I laid on top of him but this time I wrapped his arms around me. I placed his fingers between my legs and put my own on top of his. His fingers slid inside me like silk causing my whole body to hum. It was then I thought of the evil I was committing to myself and to my sweet little bird. And as I came I felt no relief because I knew then I was monster. I couldn't help myself I had always been wicked. I realized then that what I was feeling wasn't remorse, but pity for myself. I felt a tear run down my cheek and knew I would never know love only the thrill of submission. That long embraces or deep kisses would never satisfy me after this. Males had always been objects to me something to tease; something to torture. I looked at the headless doll on the floor with the burn mark in his chest wondering what Ari was trying to tell me before he passed out.
Carefully, I redressed him placing a blanket over his body as you would a child; he was still sleeping so soundly. Then I poured the rest of the drink down the kitchen sink and returned to the couch and cradled his head in my lap. The doll's body still laying limply at my feet. I wanted to kick it back under the couch, but I couldn't now…now that it was out in the open.
I wanted to be you, Marie. I wanted to be you so much. But I couldn't make him love me. And I couldn't make anyone understand especially him. And so I wrote you this letter to make you at least understand. You, whom loved him too. You, who would have to keep my secret as I would have to keep yours to both of our graves. You see, we aren't that different Marie from each other. We both took a little bird and pined for its music until we ruined it in the process. We're human this at least we've learned.