A Crimescene

A bush made almost entirely of reeds it seemed; butterflies flutter, pulsating through the still air. In this, there is a flaw; an indentation caused by two people; you’ll still find the wrapper. Her blank, white, frail body lay before me, blue lines of her contours showing through pale skin; a woman from the neck down. Legs abreast, going apart, shaking in the wind, waiting. Falling upon her, a piece of meat; pulsating, disgusting creature in me; we see outsiders, we stop; it begins.

Two days earlier she said, “Nice t-shirt,” then, “would you like a blowjob?”

The world became a centre of lust, I was let loose upon her, caught by security, pool attendants, family; but none of that mattered, her skin was pale, her breasts large, hair black as the night, we had many days and nights filled with lust and agreement; if it had been someone else I would have wanted it to last forever, but I stopped it in a fit of depression; three months of filth over.

She was twelve years old.