Lying like a lion in wait, I concentrate on redirecting the blood that had begun to settle in the wrong places. My efforts are meant to get her legs u...crossed and eventually spread just enough for the blood flow to pool in my direction. (Not trying to sound conceited, but when given the chance, I’m pretty good at it.)All IV and I care about is what it’ll take to peak her interest enough to want a solo bathroom encounter. Our “single-mindset,” along with more sexy thoughts about the brown. They acted like beating me up and pushed me aside. My mom got scared watching all this and tried to fight them. Now was alone against 4 of my friends ..she had no chance. Two of them caught her hands. They then tore her saree and she was left standing only in her blouse and petticoat. She being the bossy type started abusing my friends.This only increased their anger. One of them slapped her hard and said ‘bitch now just wait and watch what we do to you’ . They cut out holes in her blouse and. “What did you do?“ she yelled, jumping down from her horse and running to stand over the obviously dead man.“I saw you with your pistol out!” she said excitedly. “So I knew there was trouble. Did you shoot him?” she asked, breathless. “I didn’t hear a shot!”Frank wanted to snort. The dead man at his feet was beginning to bloat, and the wounds on his chest were prominent and thick with flies. Surely she would know he’d been dead a long time. He decided not to push that point though.“I found him. I should note that, just as with instant message conversations, it had occurred to me that the other person might be "faking" some or all of what was going on. I'd known myself to exaggerate or pretend in response to others via IM, and so I had always given the benefit of the doubt to my interlocutors as well. But, I thought, even if she was just writing fiction, this was still so wildly real to me, because it was still so clearly my real sister with whom I was corresponding, and apparently,.