He wanted to trip her just to see her fall. It worked. The knee she fell on tore the fabric and her skin. He offered no assistance. She now had a brand new pair of pants that needed mending. Her knee would scab and eventually scar. The healing process would be a reminder of what happened. She noticed the look on his face right after she stood up. He was pleased. She knew he did it on purpose. There was nothing she could do about that. It would seem to be her lot in life. Now that he made her aware of his tendencies he was going to raise the stakes. Each time his game would become more dangerous. As time went on she learned he grew up in an environment of criminals. He was used to playing games to create tension. Everything was a power play. She was being initiated. He was intrigued by her straightforward manner. His games focused on undermining her confidence. If she defended herself he would become more devious. If she didn't react he become more obvious. His warped fantasies always involved humiliation. Her warped fantasies always involved being a willing victim. Nothing syrupy just spontaneous and vicious. Each mastering their awareness tuned up. The final score didn't matter. He was looking for life in her that wasn't there. Her heart was dead long before she ever met him. For him there was a second chance far away from her.
She saw him, he was no stranger, on the cemented path next to the railroad tracks. Nice hair she thought. She knew it was the devil when he turned his head and smiled at her.
It's not what you think it's what you believe. Patricia '96
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