I Only Know Hatred

Chapter 7

I'm very aware I am a egocentrical prick. Selfish, disrespectful, bratty, inconsequential, people have called me that and more. Especially this last year. Thankfully I made myself almost immune to other's opinions of me, good or bad. In this backwards town where people are so judgmental and have such a square view of the world there's plenty of pariahs, the kind of people who just aren't able to meet the collective expectations, who have to bear the constant gaze of reprobation. Of course there is this majority of drones living miserably while playing into the illusions of a perfect small town and ultimately replicating the same cruel system. And there is the rare ones who find a third way, the odd ones who didn't give the necessary fucks to resign themselves to be shunned. The latter ones weren't many, but they're the must fun, undoubtedly.

So I do enjoy the role I took upon. An act that allows me to poke and rile people up, challenging the hypocrisy they are so adhered to. And yet, Matty was one of the few whose opinion actually had the power of impacting me. I didn't like that one bit, to be honest. It's just that we spend so much time together and he was usually so compliant that on the rare occasions he would just so much as disagree with me, it shook things up, forcing myself into a spiral of self-doubt.

Felling vulnerable like that didn't suit me at all and I just needed to drown out this untimely sentimental bullshit. So I dragged Marissa through the halls until we reached this long room where lots of tall windows let the afternoon light shine in. The room was some kind of infirmary with an extensive row of rusty hospital cots and gurneys aligned one after the other. The beds' white dusty sheets and yellowed thin mattresses, paired with the occasional leather bounds ominously hanging off of them, painted a eerie reminder of what may have went down there for those sad psychos that once inhabited the place.

I grabbed Marissa's face with my two hands making her look directly into my eyes and said:

"I gonna give you now what you've been wanting this whole time. It's that ok?"

She bobbed her head consenting and gave me a coy smile.

"You denied me long enough..." she said lecherously touching the growing volume at my pants.

I pressed my lips against hers with violence and then briskly turned her around. I proceeded, moving her legs apart and placing her hands to the wall above her head like a cop would. I then yanked down her skirt with a swift move and said very close to her ear:

"Pop back that pretty little ass for me baby. Yeah that's it. Now arch your back. Perfect."

She did just as she was told. She was drawing quick breaths, her pretty mouth half open, a pair of sultry bedroom eyes trying to look back at me. She tried so much to portray this easy, overly sexual slutty character all the time, and yet she really was unaware of how naturally sensual she was.

I grabbed her by the hip bones and pressed myself against her behind letting her feel my hard-on under my sweatpants. I felt a quiver ran down her whole body signaling how fucking into it she was.

"You gonna like my cock baby girl. Can you fell how hard I am?" I said, bitting her left ear and moving up my hand to her breasts exposing them to the air.

"Uhum," was her only response.

I took a step back and very slowly push down her panties. They were colored bright yellow with tiny pink polka dots all over it. It didn't went with her current gothic look. It was a relic of her former quirky and girly unpopular self. I couldn't help but laugh at it.