"Oh no!" I cried, "Youinjured me, I guess I can't drive you there..." I'll just fly there on my wings them," she laughed.I grabbed my car keys. "Come ...n, let's go."We piled into my mother's mini-van and I drove her to her school.Children dressed as in all-sorts of costumes were covering the parkinglot, so I had to park a block away. I was a little wary of letting herwalk down a darkened sidewalk by herself, so I decided to walk her to theschool."You're not gonna be lonely, are you?" she asked. She had left our modest home on the South Side of Chicago in September 2003, a full 4 year scholarship to their School of Applied Science in hand. She had always been a success, straight A's in high school, valedictorian of her class, All-State softball player, volunteer with the United Way, President of the Student Council etc., etc.The kind of person you'd love to hate, jealous of her successes. But she was popular. And beautiful! All through high school the boys had chased her and somehow. Initially she started to shift away but something came over her and she turned ever so slightly in my direction exposing more of her leg. I am smitten. I am drawn to her body, to her face, to her eyes. As I stand from my desk, she is looking at me, daring me to stare at her. It is lunch time. No one is around. I act like I am going through papers on my window sill, still staring at her, wanting and willing her to turn more toward me to expose more leg and perhaps something more. She turns fully. He tells you to undo your blouse but to leave it on, and gives you several golf ball sized shiny steel balls to put inside yourself. As you slip your hand under your skirt to push the heavy balls into yourself he drives off down the road, the wind catches your blouse and for a second exposes your breast to the world. You listened to the classical music playing loudly on the stereo, and try to ignore the balls inside you as you drive through the city. He does not allow you to hold your blouse.