A party was held that night at the frat house. Coke brought our tabs in bags with maroon bulldog emblems. I planned to stay dry for my class the next ...orning, the half-dose I took sufficed to absorb my mind. The night’s festivities included Beirut-with bourbon. Adrian called me to find pot and I had a friend of mine give her some. He could take my money tomorrow. She must have been drunk, she said love again. I remembered the first game I played. Afterwards-no memory. I woke up facedown. "Of all the women in the church, I've always noticed you. You seem to need something. Is there something you aren't getting? Under your mask of being a proper church woman, I can tell that you need something," he told her as his hands dropped to her shoulders immobilizing her."Oh, no, please don't," she said trying to twist away from him."You're so wrong, Chester, I certainly do not need anything," she continued in a weak and subdued voice. Chester's assertive manner and demands were having a. He and his friend had decided it was time for fun, sharp and bloody fun. Across from him sat a young woman, slim, pretty with soft blue eyes. He didn’t see this, he saw a smug, superior bitch, smirking at her own beauty, knowing someone like him could never stand a chance with her. ‘Take a chance with my knife slag!’ he thought, ‘I’ll cut you, I’ll carve you, I’ll kill you but I’ll take my time!’ He stroked the handle of the blade then got up and left the burger bar. ————————————————————– . Rather than scribbling his papers, Michael wrote in atiny, neat script, more typical of the girls in his class."What marvelous poetry," Sister Agatha said one day in early in his 4thgrade school year as the class was preparing for Halloween fun, callingMichael up privately after class. Students had been told to writeanything, a short essay, a story or even a poem. Michael turned in fourshort poems all written in his tight, neat script. Sister Agatha knew enough not to praise the boy before.