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Viewing Single Post From: and you may say to yourself, "My god, what have I done?"
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throw that pussy like i'm famous
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Something dropped to the girl’s feet after the push. Rhory didn’t bother to look. She just kept Kimmy’s hands in sight as she lowered herself onto the log. The hands were all that mattered. The hands were all that mattered because Rhory was in control. She assured herself of that as she looked at the girl’s hands. She was trapped. There was nothing she could do to Rhory. Whatever was on the ground was useless to her as long as Rhory kept the gun jammed in her belly. She brought herself closer, leaned slightly over towards the girl’s face. Close enough but not too close. Keeping herself taller. Finally lifting her eyes from the hands as the other girl spoke, bringing her own back up to the brown ones. She kept her smile. She didn’t blink as the girl began to speak. Nothing she could say mattered. Rhory was in control.

It took Rhory several moments to register what Kimberly said.

The docks.

Her smile twitched,
faltered slightly.

Of course Kimberly couldn’t have known.
She didn’t know that she’d turned away at the edge of the docks. She didn’t know that she’d been too afraid of that “prize”, far too afraid of being drawn into the game. She hadn’t stopped walking until she came upon Kimberly. She didn’t want to stop under the weight of that crushing sense of failure and weakness. She wasn’t sure she could have lifted herself again. She was a murderer. She couldn’t face that. Couldn’t claim her consequence, her prize. But just like Kimberly she was a killer. She dug the barrel in a little deeper. Could she sense what a coward Rhory was? Was that why she asked? She forced her smile wide again. She twisted the barrel slightly against her skin. This fucking bitch. She wouldn’t win. She wasn’t the one with the power here. Rhory was.

She scrambled for an answer. She dug for a name. Annie? Ashley? It had been a girl, she knew that much. She could work with that. She could play Kimmy’s little game, make her regret it, throw it right back in her fucking whore face. She brought her face down sharp and fast and then slowed suddenly, gingerly, touching the tips of their noses and then pivoting up around the new joint.

“Oh, I saw your friend.” She drew the barrel slightly off the skin and began to trace it downward. “She was very, uh,” She searched for a word. “...intact.” She widened her eyes as she said it.

“Thanks for that.” She brought the tip of the gun scratching over the top button of the girl's fly. She began to slip it lower. ”It was fun.”
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and you may say to yourself, "My god, what have I done?" · The Felled Forest: North