Feels Like the First Time (short horror story)
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
My mother always told me that my first time was supposed to be special. You'll remember it for the rest of your life. She'd say, Don't waste it on just anybody. But how will I know? He's the right one That would ask her. She would simply smile at me and same When you see him, you'll just feel it. I never really understood what she meant by that. I mean, people feel a lot of things about a lot of people. How can you really tell when you're ready to take such a big step in your life? What if I'm never ready for it? I had so many doubts, and as much as my mother reassured me and made sure I was educated as possible to make the right choices. When the time finally came, I still doubted I would ever find the one. All that changed, though. When I met Andrew terrorists, I was sitting in my American literature class when in walks this tell a boy dressed all in black. He had thick brown hair that formed perfect little curls. His eyes were a seafoam green that looked fierce and powerful is the ocean. During a storm. His skin was olive toned and perfectly smooth. He opened his mouth to speak and agreed of the professor with a deep Hello, I could feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach. I had never feel this way about anyone before. I knew in that instant that this boy would change my life forever. I wanted him to be my first. For the next few days, I tried to learn as much as I could about him. He didn't really talk to anyone, though. He was very much the loner type. One time I saw him reading Ed Girl in Po. So that day I went to the campus library and took out every book I could find on him and his work. I stayed up all night reading so that the next day I could strike up a conversation that impressing with how much I knew that morning, I dug through my closet and gathered all the black clothes I could find. I tried on a bunch of different outfits, but none of them seem right. I needed him toe like me to want me. Eventually, I decided on the black tank top with a black and red checkered skirt. I put on a pair of fishnet stockings, which I wrapped a few holes in for added effect and tops it all off. With black combat boots and the thickest eyeliner I could find, I decided to put my plan into action. By now. I had memorized his schedule. I knew every day he ate lunch at the dining hall Around the same time I did. I walked into the dining hall and spotted him sitting alone in the corner, engrossed in his book. I gathered up my courage and walked over to his table. Hi there, I said to him. He didn't respond. He just kept reading his book, perhaps in the hopes that I would give up and walk away. Mind if I sit down? I asked, trying not to sound too eager. It's a free country, he said without a second's hesitation. I grab the sea right next to him and sat down. What are you reading? I asked him a dream within a dream, he replied. All I love that one, I said. Oh God, can I not save one from the pitiless wave is all that we see or same but a dream within a dream. He looked up from his book and stared at me the way someone would stare at a really long math problem. I stared back, trying to my best to look like Elvira. Spooky yet alluring. My name's Tricia. I said, I'm Andrew, he said with a smile. So you like a gray Allan Poe? Oh, yeah, I replied. I've read all of his stuff dozens of times. He's my favorite author. Wow, I didn't think girls really into this sort of thing. Well, I'm not like most girls, I said as I carefully ran my hand down his forearm. We talked for the rest of lunch, period. I found out that he and his dad had just moved here from Massachusetts. His dad is a salesman, so they moved around a lot. He doesn't really give a **** about me. Andrew said I could disappear tomorrow, and the old man would probably throw a parade. I keep telling him that I'm going to run away and he just goes, Go ahead, Sport. I'll pack your ******* bag. He's a real ***** like that. One of these days, I'd love to just got him like a pig. I could feel the passion in his eyes. As he said, This something inside me felt warm and bubbly. I spent the next few weeks sitting with him at lunch. I learned so much about him. Every new detail just made him seem more perfect. I finally worked up the courage and invited him to my house after classes. He said he'd love Teoh, and I could see how excited he waas. I texted my mom in advance and told her I was coming home with the one, she texted back, saying she'd make sure she was out of my hair. We walked home together, talking the whole way about anything and everything. I feel like we developed a real connection in that short span of time. As we approach the steps of my house, my heart began to flutter. I opened the door and let him downstairs to the basement. We looked into each other's eyes, and before I knew what was happening, I pounced on him, the Ramones and thrashing, and before I knew it, we were on the table. My mother had laid out clean sheets on the table just for the occasion. I remember everything that she had taught me. I got out the leather straps and tied him down to the table for stability and a better sense of control, my mother would always say. Then I straddled him and reached down. I fiddled around a bit until I found what I was looking for. It was a lot larger than I'd imagined. It felt massive in my tiny hand. I did, as my mother said, gripping it carefully yet firmly. I moved it around until I found the right spot. Then I started to slip it inside, aghast at first. This was also new and exciting. I slid it in deeper. It felt absolutely amazing. I put my hand on his chest. As I slid it in and out, I felt and arriving wriggle under me. The pure ecstasy of the moment engulf me and blocked out everything else. I took it out and began teasing him with it. I moved around on top of him. He started begging. I held off for a little longer, savoring every moment, and I shoved it back inside this time were forcefully. I went hard and fast. Each dress was like a little piece of heaven. I wanted to stay in that beautiful moment forever. Unfortunately, it ended much faster than I had anticipated. I looked down and realized that blood had gotten all over my clothes in the sheets. I texted my mom to tell her I was done and that I needed help with the cleanup. She came home immediately. I could see the look of pride in her eyes that she came down the basement steps and saw what I had done. I'm so proud of you, honey, she said with a smile. How was it? It was everything you said it would be and more. I answered. I'll remember it forever. We walked over and looked down at the Andrew, the knife still sticking out of his chest, where I had left it. His entrails decorated the table like garland. You did an excellent job, my mother said. If you place an armor on me, you should feel very proud of yourself. You did a lot better than I did my first time. Now let me show you how to hide the body. I think back to this moment, sometimes with pride, Andrew Caress helped change my life for the better. I'll always be grateful for him, for he was my first, the first boy I ever killed,