Glen

Chapter 4

It was nearly a year before the next one wandered into my life. I have a shameless weakness for Asian women, all types, and she was a beauty! She was 19 years old and fresh from Japan, in the states on a student visa.

Miyuki was a shy, hopeless little thing with no real concept of American culture and her own preconceived notions about American men. She was the picture of innocent perfection! Her face was like creamy porcelain, smooth, and unblemished. Her jet-black hair hung in a waist-length braid down her back. She wore delicate glasses, perfectly suited to her face, adding to her innocence. Lust was never something that I struggled with before I saw her.

"From love to lust, huh?" Cody interrupted.

She was in my Business Law class, always sitting at the back, out of the sight of the professor. She never spoke to anyone, never answered questions. She always did her best to avoid being chosen, and her unwillingness to participate started to affect her grade in the class.

After getting poor results on her first exam, she buckled. I found her crying in the student lounge. I approached her, consoled her. When she finally calmed down, I asked if she needed help studying for the next exam. Relief washed over her, and she hugged me. It caught me off guard, but it was nice. It took her a while to completely warm up to me, but once she did, I had some peace, again, for a while.

"Did you fall for her, too?"

I shook my head. "No. I swore to never allow that, again. I didn't want to fall in love with someone else and have the 'spirit take me,' so to speak."

Tutoring this naïve girl took my mind away from everything. I had something "productive" to apply my energy to. We went to class together, ate at the dining hall, and studied together. I forced myself to remain unattached and unattracted. One was far easier than the other.

She introduced me to her international friends and included me in cultural events. I helped her learn more about America and social norms while trying to help her maintain her own cultural values. Before long, I found myself helping out more than just her.

I became a tutor for Miyuki and her friends, helping them with homework, and studying for tests. All of them made sure to compensate me for my help. All of them that is, except Miyuki. It didn't bother me, at first. I wanted her bad and was willing to go to ridiculous lengths to get her, even if that meant doing her work for her.

She did most of the work in the beginning, learning what I had to teach. After a short time, however, Western civilization cast its spell. She started pleading with me to take her out on the town; we could do the work, later! I would take her out, blow my money, and return her to my dorm, usually drunk or high, to sleep it off while I finished her work.

I hoped that she would tire of her new freedom and focus her attention back on me, but that, as it always happened, didn't come to pass. She started dropping off her work and disappearing before I could get a word out. She would come around, occasionally, and leave on a whim.

Unfortunately, my patience had begun to dissolve when her visits became leaving her homework in my dorm mailbox. I was being used, again, and I had allowed it. This was an enraging thought. I kept hoping I could find one woman who would learn, who would prove my father wrong. It was becoming quickly apparent that Miyuki was not that woman. She was a porcelain geisha, cracked by the force of American corruption. It was such a shame!

"I don't understand, Glen. Were you just seeking out women like this?"

I laughed, harshly, an overwhelming feeling of anger washed over me. "Isn't that the definition of a 'serial killer'? My 'M.O.'? You know my type, right? A sociopath, with Oedipus Syndrome, seeking out women who look and act like my mother, isn't that right, Doc?"