Finding My Self

Sanity Is Overrated

Fresh, that was how I felt. Fresh and clean. There was just a certain feeling that came from a thorough bath.

The feel of soft sweet-smelling foam running over your skin and down your beast was a sensual feeling I haven't had the pleasure of enjoying in a while.

I sat crossed legged, dressed in soft silky pajamas. The shorts stopped mid-thigh with Its smooth texture rubbing against my exposed skin. Goosebumps formed on my legs and arm - I had grown unaccustomed to these simple luxuries.

Aron's sister, Ava sat behind me trying desperately to tame the nest that was my hair. I could feel the tug of the comb against my scalp when she met a knot but that was inevitable with this mass of tangles.

She was a very energetic being, confident and outspoken. Quite the narrator she was too.

"Girl you should have seen his face when I walked in, " she chuckled at the memory.

" Dick in hand and face red, I couldn't help but scream," she continued with an unpleasant shiver.

" I mean what was I to do, it's not every day you walk into the washroom and see your big brother pumping his junk. "

Not for the first time tonight she had me blushing with the tales of her brother's misfortunes and mishaps.

My face became flushed not only from her brother's embarrassment but also from the sweet yet undoubtedly sinuous thoughts that had entered my mind.

I had begun to picture his bulging eyes with his thick lashes sweeping his flushed cheeks as he felt his nearing climax.

The way his supplant lips would part in ecstasy and the way his brows would be set in this their usually furrowed manner as his face scrunched.

I followed the sweat that would run down the sides of his face, over his long neck and down his naked chest, past his navel and on to unthinkable places.

I could almost imagine the look in his capturing eyes as he came apart. As the stars and the galaxies floated above him.

Oh my god.......

I groaned. I'm starting to believe that I have gone insane. I had suspect that much when I had shoved the bear over the canyon some chapters back.

But now, I was completely positive that I have lost my merit. Insane I had gone, mad and irrational.

I'm sure I was the same Sash Octavia Hanes that was abused and loaned as a means of settling the debts of my boyfriend.

It couldn't be the same woman that was a battered body and a soulless vessel not so long ago.

It puzzled me, my deep interest in this strange man. It puzzled me even more that only yesterday I was numb.

Numb to the bite of the concrete against my knees, numb to the burn in my lungs. I was numb to life as I had known it.

I felt like my body and mind was a compressed structure of electrical charges whose molecules bumped and zapped one other sending jolts of sizzling pulses to the surface.

It puzzled me the most that even though I didn't understand him and I didn't get his kindness or patients I was not afraid of him as much as I should be.

I was, however, quite wary of his mysterious mission.

The more I thought about it the more I was convinced I lost my mind.

How else could I have suffered so deeply by the hands of men but hunger after one like this?

We'd only met only a day ago - I didn't even know him.

I had to be crazy.

I had to be.

I wanted to possess him and consume this very soul. He strangely tugged at me and I wanted-no need more.

Anyone in their right mind would stay far from him and his lustful body.

Far from those electric blue eyes and pink lips and even further from the soft-touch his hands offered.

The sane would see that any man was cable of being a monster. That at any moment in time said person can lose their resolve and trip, though tripping too mild an act to consider for such a situation.

And crash.

yes

That said person can crash into the world of an unhinged abuser.

Any sane person would want to escape.
They'd crave the freedom kept from them for so long that they have forgotten the taste.

The sweet taste of roaming the streets at will, to feel the soft kiss of snow on your skin or the gentle touch of rain droplets as they fell gracefully from the cotton clouds.

The feeling that arose from being free from the bondage of inequality, the mental shackles of self-hate and doubt that held you, hostage, in your own body.

People have fought for their freedom to do as they pleased from the beginning of time and here I was willingly succumbing to an unspoken contract I didn't know the full depth of.

A sane woman proud to be called as she is, a woman; strong and gifted would try her utmost to regain her lost freedom, pride, and self-worth.

But instead of such well put together thoughts, I seem to be trying my best not to gain my freedom.

Freedom, a term used loosely because I didn't feel trapped here. I felt drawn to the people like I'd known them for years and we were old friends.

I wanted to protect them, which I found to be a really funny desire since everyone here was physically bigger than me.

The strangest of everything was my practical starvation for the man with the electric blue eyes.

So maybe indeed I was insane.

Insane to feel the pull of his body to mine and even more for wanting him.

After all, insanity is the best judge by those who lack it most and I think that I had earned the right to be the judge at this point.

I think I've earned a right to an occasional selfish decision- one that's somewhat irrational and poorly thought out. Sanity is over related anyway.