Guess its a coping mechanism? The mind's gotta do some crazy shit to deal with crazy shit, right? Feels to me like that's how things usually go. Or, h...ll, I don't know. Maybe that's just me. Maybe I'm the same kind of psycho sicko myself, like all those ones I see in my visions. One day I'll snap, go on a little spree of my own... naw, that thought's just too morbid. By the time I'm paying attention again, someone's pushing me to the ground. Large, firm hands. A man's hands. Familiar hands. Not. Yes but I can check them a-again if you want? I managed to reply go ahead, I don’t want any interruptions she said as she continued toprepare the snacksI raced down the stairs trying not to kill myself in the process, I locked the doors and made it a point that they could only be opened from the inside (some of my uncles and my father had keys to the house) and ran back upstairs, she met me at the top of the stairs, with a bold stance almostdefiant. Follow me she commandedShe grabbed me and. The first one I tried on looked very sexy. I had been inspired by the look that Jules had worn to Tango’s last night. I bought a short red and black plaid mini skirt and a white button down top that I could tie at my waist line. I liked how it looked with my new white bra and white tank top that I wore underneath. I also found some frilly white ankle socks and white patent high heel pumps during my shopping. I thought I looked very cute and sexy in my new outfit. I put it back in my shopping. It’s my ah…my penis.” “Well, what’s wrong with it. It looks swollen.” “It kinda’ got hard and now it won’t go down.” “Brandon, how long have you had this…erection?” “Since we got home from school about an hours and a half ago.” “Do you know anything about this?”, Wendy asked her daughter. Brittany blushed and shrugged her shoulders. Sensing an opportunity to address what had been going on, Wendy leaned against her son’s desk and said, “Listen kids, I know what.