Colton: An Intersex Short Storry

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Daisy POV

I pushed the smoke away from my face as I leaned against the wall. "Rochelle was correct; I don't understand why I come to this damned club."

"You don't have an option."

I took a drag off the chocolate-scented cigarette and pulled my lips up to inhale the smoke in the air. "I simply wish I was like her."

"You don't have to be." He whispered.

"I kinda do, Malik." I said. "I've always desired that my works were as widely available as hers. All of my debts would be paid, and my life would be great. I'm simply a lump of nothing."

"You aren't." He hurled the cigarette, which leaped through flashing cherry flames before landing on the asphalt.

He holds my hands tenderly, and his next hand tilts my face. Malik and I played around, not on a romantic basis. He stated he wasn't prepared for one. Malik was attractive, with his magnificent dark hair, which was a curtain bang in his wonderful face. We stood at the same height, which resulted in us being designed for each other.

"One day, you will be an excellent writer, and you already are."

I flushed. "I'm not; they were literally all dozing off."

"That's because they're simply bad people, Daisy, and all you have to do is find your family that love your work." He proposed. He wasn't completely incorrect, but he wasn't quite correct.

Even if I wanted to, I was unable to quit Keith book club. I was glued to it. I knew that one day, a publisher will want to sign my novels.

"They are stuck-up bitches. There are so many people that appreciate your work.

"Where? Because I don't see them?"

"They're out there." He spoke as he grinned down at me. I moved the smokes to the side. It was halfway done, and I couldn't throw it away yet. I spent $60 for it. I smiled back at him; his emerald eyes were breathtaking every time I glanced at them. I wrote about him once. I leaned forwards and pursed my lips. When he gave out a sigh, my lips almost met his.

I opened my eyes and stared at him. "What?"

We always do this? We were always kissing, and he would occasionally finger me. We had always played around, but the look on his face indicated that we couldn't. Was I missing something?

"We—we can't." He made a reluctant response.

"Why not?" I questioned, upset that he was essentially pushing me away. He grasped my hand.

"I met this girl."

"Oh, wow!" I was in complete astonishment, and it felt like someone had slapped me in the face with a lump of excrement in their hands. It smells. It stinks. Girlfriend? It wasn't evident that he had a girlfriend after I declared my feelings for him two weeks earlier.

He was ready for a relationship, but not with me. Just wow. Life could not be much worse.

"Uhmmm... Congratulations." I swallowed, and the lump entered my tonsils so hard that I almost choked. I swiftly went away. He stopped me. The tears were falling.

"I simply truly liked her."

"Yeah, but you never liked me?" I posed my question as a statement.

"I do. It just happened; we clicked, and before we knew it, we were boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Great. Best of luck to you and her. I need to go."

"Are you coming tomorrow? We can still hang together."

"I'm not sure." I snapped

************.

My house was my secure haven, at least which is what I believed until I heard the loud thump upstairs.

My crazy guess is that it may be my cat, Betty, who was a plump fat cat that I used to hunt mice and cockroaches, but she now plays with them instead. The problem about my outrageous gamble, which I would undoubtedly lose, was that Betty's wild green eyes stared straight back at me. And the thunderous thump remained.

"Betty." I called her over with a whisper. As her fat frame moves, the pink collar around her neck jiggles. She purred and stroked her velvety coat across my foot. She sat down, staring up at me. "It'd be better if you were a dog rather than a cat. Then you'd bark."

There was a thump, and it appeared like someone was strolling about.

My next impulsive action was to flee the home, presumably leaving Betty behind, but instead I picked up the fat cat and proceeded into my death. It could be a robber, with a gun, a knife.

Betty meows as she tries to wiggle free from my firm grip on her, directly beneath my arm. "You stay there. We both died tonight." I muttered as I carefully climbed the few steps.

"Fuck!" We heard a muffled voice. I remained stopped on the final step, which led to none other than my bedroom. The voice was coming from inside there. My next crazy guess is Rochelle, but I don't recall her having a deep monotone.

Pulling the fucking door was the best course of action since the suspension was killing. Betty meowed loudly, and I shushed her, giving her a look. "Quit it."

My eyes startled as I opened the door to discover a dark-haired, 6'0 tall woman pacing across my room. She was so tall that she could take one step and stand in front of the wall next to the bed. I was forgetting something, but her beautiful looks reminded me. What did I forget?

"He-hello."

She paused and grinned as she turned to face me. And then I remembered what I should do. I should scream and call the cops.