This is me when I was 15. Or 14… Asch, it doesn’t really matter exactly how old I was… I was younger than I am now.
And I was in love with B.
Madly in love. Like a constant pressure on my chest. A constant pain through my teenage years.
I would have done anything for him. Anything. I’d have cut off one of my arms if he needed it for something, removed my uterus with a scissor if that would have been to his pleasure,
Lucky he never asked me… might have regretted that whole “cut-off-my-arm”-thing in retrospect…
Anywayzzz, as you can easily deduce, this is one page of a *longer story. And it will eventually end up in Kolik förlags Novellett-utgivning.
*That 26-pager I told ya’ll about the other day… Yes, apparently it was good shit.