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I pushed my back against the wall. I stared down at the scissors. This was the only way. The easiest way to live, to die, fix as much as I possibly...could.It felt as if someone was pulling open a zipper down my scar. No pain, just a weird feeling. I watched the blood pour over both sides of my arm. From the top of the scar to the bottom, almost onto my wrist, I could see how thick my skin actually was. I could see how it was a separate entity from my insides, but still, it held tightly. I'd come out of the dark he didn't know what hit him. She looked up and said NO. I grabbed her hair and nearly slapped her. I turned and left, looking for my car. As I opened the car , she ran and jumped in the passenger side. She was crying, begging to be forgiven. Saying it was a bet. A dare . A mistake. Crying and saying stop. I drove for a while , argued. swore at her. Called her names and accused her of everything. She said she was sorry. Very sorry and would do anything for forgiveness .. I felt sorta uncomfortable as he continued to eye me, sweat was dripping down my honey brown skin, and my long curly hair was a mess from riding the bike against the breeze. Out of all the times for me to look like crap, I thought. "Are you walking?" He asked as i approached the counter and set my drink down. "No, I'm riding a bike." I responded. His blue eyes widened for a minute, then his brows sank low and he frowned at me. "Are you crazy," He exclaimed suddenly. "In this weather? its. When his cool touch slid from my throat to travel over my exposed chest I knew I would deny him nothing. His hand slipped under my shirt and bra seeking my already erect nipple. He pinched the hardness between his finger and thumb. My head fell back into a flood of ecstasy. This was a risk on so many levels and that added and hindered the excitement brewing. This was a public business, I was married, and I was several years younger. I could not manage a single rational thought let alone focus.
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