The sting of the ripping. I still cringe every time. I tried to hide mypain while Amy worked her way down my legs with the wax. I smiled as tearscame ...o my eyes as she ripped away at my hair. Amy smirked a few times atme while she did it. She knew the pain I was in. I wondered if she wasenjoying.She then put on makeup, and made me follow her actions, act by act. Firstit was eyeliner, then mascara, then lipstick, then blush. I put on mypadded bra and buttoned a blouse over it.I put on a pair of. .. Fine, so I'm not very good spelling. Ok, no biggy. I can get the hint. Fans complain I listen. So my very next story I use a spell checker right. Cant be to hard. Run the word document through the wringer and clean up the numerous misplaced nouns and verbs.And what's the thanks I get? "Your such a fantastic writer!", "You make my cock hard like hell", My pussy was abuzz with your words", "You cant spell worth shit!".I honestly do feel like shit when I read those awful emails. Didn't they see. In the dead of a Chicago winter, Chrissy looked like the blessed breath of spring. Her flaming red hair was drawn back into a twist, but several soft stands hung loosely around her face. Mike’s heart warmed when she pushed her sleeves up on her arms, and he heard the familiar jingle of her charm bracelet. She was everything he remembered and all that he would ever want. But the look on her face said that she was less than amused at his presence. ‘Mike, what are you doing here?’ Chrissy asked. “I make you nervous. Scared even.” He says it so calmly. I open my mouth to tell him It’s not true, but it is. I don’t understand him. He can’t be dead, if he was, only I would see him. I turn away from him. “No, that’s not it. It’s just.” My voice trails off again. I can’t tell him why what he said is true. He’d think I was a freak. “It’s just what?” I didn’t hear him move up behind me, but he’s there. I can feel his breath on my neck. He takes my hand, slowly, so I have time to pull away if I.