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Author's Note: Ch. 3 a day after Ch. 2.This is a rare thing for me so don't expect it all the time :) I have to warn people a bit because there is a scene in here that might be a little on the squeamish side.

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Chapter Three:

The auditions results came back two days later. I wasn’t very surprised. That arrogant prick Craig got Macbeth, I ended up as his understudy. I suppose it was better than some nameless soldier. Becky didn’t fare much better, she ended up as one of the Witches. Which I guess is better than nothing. Though she only had a couple of lines. Some girl named Holly got Lady Macbeth, she was another Senior. Her audition was good and she looked the part: tall and pretty with long dark hair, pale complexion. It was like she was born to play the role. None of the freshmen got any big parts---there were only a handful of us that tried out and Becky got the best part. It kinda pissed me off in a way. Whereas the others were at least doing something, nothing save an act of God would make me Macbeth.
Brian talked Professor White into making me a Script supervisor. I was going to turn it down to I overheard the bitter professor bitch about it. At first I thought it was me but it turns out she didn’t like men in general. She sneered at all of us, Craig more than others. Me, I think I confused her. I was a guy but I didn’t look and sound like one. Baby faced and soft voiced, I was like a girl to her. She treated me a little better than the others too. Not much better but a little. Somehow to her Script Supervisor also meant slave and the bitter bitch started running me ragged. The first day I was to meet with her I spent more time running errands than actually working with her.

Two weeks after auditions, I was getting sick and tired of it. Yes, I knew everyone’s part---hell, I knew them beforehand. But if she asked me to get her one more cup of coffee, I was going to accidentally spill some of it on her head. To make matters worse I spent more time with her than anywhere else. My academic and social life was starting to suffer from it. My grades had taken a dip and I barely saw Katie anymore. The only time we had for one another was in class and when she picked me up from rehearsal to take me home. Even though our conversations were dull. I think neither one of us truly recovered after that almost incident in the car. We definitely weren’t as affectionate as we were. I could hold her hand but she wouldn’t let me kiss her anymore. I think she was afraid we’d go wild and crazy again. It didn’t matter the two of us were drunk then.

If that didn’t make things bad, my lack of sleep did. Ever since that night---the night they aired that news story---I’d been getting maybe an hour sleep tops. The murder was all they seemed to talk about. They were already calling it the Vampire Murders. Yeah, Murders as in plural. A week after the first girl, another one was found. She was wearing a white dress too. Her throat and wrists were slit and word was there wasn’t a single drop of blood in her entire body. The police were completely baffled. The second girl was found just like the first, tied spread eagle in the woods. The scariest part about it was that I had a dream about her a day or so before hand. It wasn’t quite like the first but it was similar. In the second dream, there were no robed figures because the girl was already dead. But there was something new: a big nasty black bird. It was sitting on a tree branch above her body. I half expected it to say “ Nevermore”.
Bart thought I was sleep deprived. But I knew I wasn’t. He suggested I should see a counselor, maybe get some meds. I didn’t even share my dreams with Katie. That disturbed me a lot. I used to share everything with her. But the idea of telling her about these murders---about dreaming them before hand---it unsettled me. I didn’t want to drag her in and upset her more. So Bart was my only confidant, which suited me fine. I’d played his in the past, so it was only fair he return the favor. Back in seventh grade, he and some friends were out screwing around at the edge of town. There was this old woman who lived there and everyone thought she was a witch. So Bart and his stupid companions took some rocks and started throwing them at her house. Bart was the lucky bastard to actually break one of her windows. They bolted and swore never to tell anymore. It took Bart two days to tell me, the guilt had eaten him up. It took me a day to convince him to confess.

He took the full blame. He got a paper route that summer to help pay for the old woman’s window. He never went anywhere near her house again.

The only good thing going for me was the necklace. Though it didn’t get me the role I wanted, it was like a good luck charm. Ever since I started wearing it, I was feeling a lot better about myself. So my life was shit right now but that happens a lot. I read somewhere that the freshman year of college was one of the hardest years. And it did bring me good luck. The other day I was walking by a construction site in the city when some jackass dropped his hammer. It would have beamed me right in the head. Somehow a bird flew right over me at that exact moment. The hammer hit the bird and saved my life. It was too bad for the bird but good luck for me. Just yesterday, I got some good luck from it too. I was walking down the hall and some jerk decided to grab my ass from behind---I guess I was a girl to him. When he realized what he did and that I was a guy, he was about to pound me. We were right near a classroom. He took one step toward me and the door opened at that exact moment, smashing him right in the face.

So lots of bad luck but some good, too.

But mainly bad. Like right now. I was sitting in Professor White’s office, listening or half listening as she went off again on one of her man hating tangents. I’m pretty sure she forgot I was a man too. For one thing, she kept calling me sweetheart and more than once referred to “us” when speaking about women and “them” when speaking about men. At first, it drove me nuts but now I just went with it. So I was girly looking but at least I knew I was a guy.
Today’s tangent was about the Stage Director. Apparently, he misunderstood her directions. She wanted an eerie gothic look for the castle backdrop and a more subdued lot for the witch’s hovel. Instead, he reversed things, making their place gothic and the castle very sleek and modern. She was fuming about it, calling him all sorts of names. I tried my hardest not to flinch when she talked about the size of his “you know what” and the horrible things she wanted to do with it.

“Rhianne, sweetie” she said, referring to me.

That was another thing. She was convinced my name was Rhianne no matter how many times I told her it was Ryan. It was like she couldn’t accept me as a guy. It didn’t matter that Ryan was a girl’s name too.

So I played along as usual. “Yes, Margaret”. Like Brian, she wanted me to call her by her first name too.

“I need you to go and talk to that good for nothing bastard and try to take some sense into that thick Neanderthal brain of his.”

I rolled my eyes but she couldn’t see me because her back was to me. Instead, I told her I’d be happy to and left her office. The only thing I was happy about was getting out of there. I hightailed it out of there real quick. Her office was a down the hall from the Theater. She told me that it made her feel closer to her art. But the truth of matter was that it was the farthest away from everyone else. It was the only office near the theater. All the other professors in the department were in a shiny wing of the building a long ways away from her. It was clear she drove them all nuts. She reminded me of that teacher from the Highschool Musical movies, except a lot more annoying. I mean I know for a fact she didn’t say anything to the Stage Manager about the sets. I know because I was there when she was talking to him. She handed him some poorly labeled sketches and left.
But she’d never admit it.

As I walked into the theater, the sounds of hard work filled my ears. There were several people on stage hammering away. There was so much to do that there was work going on in the seats too. A row or two could be removed if needed. I looked at all the guys and girls hard at work. Then I scanned the faces looking for the Stage Manager---Bud Cross. Since working with Margaret, I’d gotten to know Bud pretty well too. He was also a professor but I didn’t need to take any classes from him. He said he dealt with the “grunts” and not the “superstars”. I kinda liked him. He told you how it was and didn’t sugar coat anything. Already he and Margaret had butted heads more than once. In fact, in the last two weeks I think I counted no more than ten arguments between the two of them. This thing with the castle/hovel was only the latest.

I found Bud on stage, overseeing the work there. I took a deep breath and slowly walked over. He turned when I was halfway there and frowned. I didn’t need to come to the theater so he knew I was there to file another complaint. He shook his head and walked down the steps, meeting me at the bottom of them.

“What does the Almighty want now?” he asked, referring to his name for her.

I sighed. “She seems to think you screwed up the sets.”

He sighed heavily; pulling Margaret’s rolled up sketches out of his pocket. He unrolled them and looked at them for a minute or two. Then he sighed again and scratched his head. I took a peek. It was clear which one was which but the writing on it labeling them was horrible. I knew it was Margaret’s handwriting because I’d been staring at it for the last two weeks. So as much as it was his fault it was her’s as well. Though she’d never admit it. Bud continued to scratch his head until he finally tossed the papers up in the air.

“That woman is the most impossible person on the face of the planet.”

I nodded. “She seems to think the error is of your doing.”

He laughed. “This from a woman who can’t even tell the sexes apart.”

We both laughed. Unlike Margaret, Bud could see I was a guy. I think Margaret could too but she was fooling herself into thinking I was a girl because she didn’t like to be proven wrong. She and Miss White both thought I was a girl---even if she didn’t mistakenly call me one at the audition. I could tell by the way she looked when I said my name was Ryan. It registered with her but I don’t think she wanted to admit it. I think the idea of a guy working with her and mostly for her appalled the hell out of her so she made me a girl in her eyes. Not that it really mattered to me but she was starting to get on my nerves about it.

“She’s on the war path about it,” I said, bending down and picking up the sheets he tossed. I straightened them out and handed them back to him.

Then I had to explain to him where he supposedly went wrong. It took me about twenty minutes. In the end, Bud threw his hands up in the air and stomped back on stage. He shouted at his workers, telling them to halt work immediately. Then he grabbed a nearby sledge and laid into the castle already being constructed. There were looks of horror on several faces as wood splinters flew. I winced and turned away, disappearing down the aisle as Bud barked orders behind me. When I got into the hall I sighed, glad I wasn’t one of his grunts at the moment.

I took a few moment to collect myself then started down the hall back toward Margaret’s office. I got halfway there before going into the bathroom instead. I went to the urinal, did my business and went to the sink to wash my hands. As I turned on the water, the door opened and in strode Craig. I groaned. He was all I needed right now. Ever since he got the lead over me, he’d been rubbing it in day after day. It gets kinda annoying after so long. When he saw me, he smirked and I just knew more ridicule was coming. You’d think being a senior in college would stem off the name calling but apparently, Craig was a rare case of asshole.

“If it isn’t pretty Rhianne,” he said, giving my ponytail a tug.

My hair was becoming a problem. Before it was shoulder length and manageable. But in the last couple of weeks since the audition, it was starting to get a mind of its own. It was down my back now and silky smooth. I thought about cutting it but I haven’t found the time to get an appointment to do so. So I’ve been tying it into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. But Craig seemed to think it was an attempt to look even more like a girl. Like I would ever try to do that.

“Name calling is for middle school jackasses,” I said, turning off the faucet. “I think you’re a decade or so too old for that.”

He didn’t move from the doorway. I saw anger flash across his face. I saw the blackness too again. Ever since the audition, I was seeing colors around everyone. It wasn’t just the pink or the black either. It was all sorts of colors. At first, it freaked the hell out of me but now I was starting to get used to it. I’m still not sure where it was coming from but it was so common now that I normally just waved it off. Maybe I was losing my sight or maybe I was suffering from lack of sleep. Regardless of the reason, it didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. In fact, if anything it seemed to be getting worse.

Craig gave me a shove. “Fucking punk. You think you’re better than me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think, I know.”

That pissed him off more. The strange thing was that I felt pissed too. I’m not sure why but I got this overwhelming urge to pound something. There was a fire in my chest and a tingling throughout my body. Craig looked smug for a second but suddenly that smugness disappeared and was replaced by something else: fear. The blackness surrounding him started to vanish too, slowly molding into another color, a much brighter one: yellow. He took a step back, pressing his back against the door. My stomach burned as I took a step toward him.

“What the hell are you?” he stammered but I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Get out of my way” I said in a cold, commanding voice.

He nodded but didn’t move. I took a step toward him and the crotch of his pants grew wet. This time I smirked. He covered his pants and quickly got out of my way. I felt ten feet tall when I pulled open the door and walked out of the room. As soon as I got into the bathroom, the burning went away. The tingling was still there for a few seconds but it vanished too. I leaned against the wall, panting heavily. What the hell was that? I went from being annoyed to wanting to pound the snot out of Craig. He was a dick but he didn’t deserve to get his ass kicked. I looked down at my hands and could swear that my nails had gotten a bit longer. I shook it off and started on my way back toward Margaret’s office.

Katie was waiting for me outside the theater when I got done. She was sitting outside the car on a bench, reading a magazine. She didn’t see me until I was almost on top of her. She looked up and smiled. She was looking particularly gorgeous today. Looking at her, I got this overwhelming feeling of lust. It wasn’t overpowering but I wanted to do some wild things with her. I bit my lip, forcing that feeling back into me. When she saw me biting my lip, Katie blushed. Her color today was red but it got a little brighter when she saw me. I couldn’t help but think that she might be feeling the same thing I was. After all, even though our relationship was lukewarm at the moment there was still moments of stirring passion. Today apparently was going to be one of those moments.

She stood up, setting her magazine on the bench. Then she wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder. It helped that we were the same size today. Katie was dressed casually in jean shorts and a t-shirt, no heels just sandals. We stood there a few minutes just hugging. When we finally pulled away, she was crying a bit. I sighed. I wiped some of tears off her face.

“What’s this about?”

She smiled weakly. “I’ve been an ass. Ever since that night in the car I’ve been distant but I’ve been wanting to make it up to you but just didn’t know how”

I shook my head. “That was all me. I’m not sure where it came from but it was definitely me.”

She laughed. “It was both of us. We were drunk, it happens.”

She reached down and grabbed my hand. Then she frowned. “You need to cut your nails.”

I laughed. “I just noticed them today actually.”

“I can do it for you if you want?”

I was about to say yes before my stomach grumbled. We had a good laugh about that. Still holding my hand, she led me to the car. We got in and sought out the nearest restaurant. We never ate on campus. The food was all right but we didn’t like the atmosphere. Most of the dining halls and eating places were loud and noisy; the two of us could barely have a conversation. So she always wanted to eat off campus, which was fine by me. We drove for about ten minutes before we found a little diner. Katie and I walked in hand-in-hand. We got a couple of strange looks as we took a booth in the back. When the waitress called us ladies, I shot her a cold stare and the color seemed to drain from her face. She disappeared with our orders pretty quickly after that.

Katie burst into laughter. “Well you can’t blame her. What with that hair and those nails, you do look a little feminine.”

I glowered at her then smiled wickedly. “Well if I’m a girl then that makes you a lesbian.”

She stopped laughing. “Not funny.”

I smirked. “You started it.”

She quickly changed the subject. “How’s the Crazed Man Hater?”

She of course was referring to Margaret.

I quickly relayed today’s incident to her. She rolled her eyes when I was done. I hesitated before telling her about the rest of the day though. Finally, I got up the courage and told her about what happened in the bathroom---minus a few details. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to the whole anger and making Craig piss his pants thing. I wasn’t sure how I was even reacting to it. I knew what I did but I’m not sure how it happened exactly. One minute I was afraid he might kick my ass---he is much bigger than me---then the next minute I felt like I wanted to kick his. It was almost as if we switched roles with me becoming the aggressor. Not that I would have pissed, my pants but I sure as hell would have pounded him into the linoleum. I’m not sure what stopped me from doing so actually. I was so angry and so pissed off. Then it was like a switch and it was all gone.

Katie leaned forward and touched my hand. “You OK?”

I blinked. “I’m fine, why?”

She frowned. “You’re crying sweetie.”

I reached up and touched my cheek. Sure enough, there were tears running down it. I hadn’t even noticed. I smiled at her and wiped the tears away. She smiled back weakly but held my hand. A few minutes later, the waitress came with our drinks. She kept away from me as far as she could as she placed mine on the table in front of me. Then she made a quick retreat. Weirdo. I picked up my drink and took a sip; the cold beverage was exactly what I needed. While we waited for our food, Katie started telling me about her classes. It had been so long since the two of us had actually talked like this. I actually kinda missed it. She was really excited about the project the class was going to undertake during the Break. Apparently, her professor was arranging an expedition into the Amazon to study a certain tribe down there. He didn’t usual take undergrads but a few of his grads dropped out so there were spots open. Katie was going to try to get one.

The food came twenty minutes later. The waitress still seemed a bit scared of me.

Katie laughed again. “I think she thinks you’re going to hex her.”

“Hex her?” I asked, confused.

She pointed to my chest. I looked down and realized the necklace was on the outside of my shirt. I frowned. I hadn’t even noticed. Usually I wore it under my shirt so as not to draw attention to it. The last time I wore it outside my shirt someone from the school’s Christian Alliance handed me a pamphlet and told me it wasn’t too late to find the light. Bart and I had a good laugh about it. So after that I wore it in hiding. As I stared at the thing now I couldn’t help but feel that it was better to have it out then hide it away. Yeah it drew a lot of attention but it seemed wrong to hide it.

“Do you think me capable of hexing someone?” I asked in a mocking tone.

She gave me a face. Then she seemed to think about it. “Not dressed like that.”

I threw a french fry at her.

We had a couple of laughs over dinner and it felt like good times again. It was hard to believe that either of us were in a rut. After eating Katie wanted to do something fun. When the words nightclub came out of her mouth I groaned and reminded her what happened last time. But she was adamant that as long as I didn’t drink then we wouldn’t get carried away. I couldn’t see the logic in her claim but I decided to go along with it. But of course she got to the crazy part. After leaving the diner, she drove the two us to a nearby boutique. When she stopped the car, I frowned at it.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, looking at some of the crazy outfits in the display window.

“Getting club clothes.”

I groaned. “I’ll wait in the car,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.

“No you’re not,” she said forcefully and I reluctantly got out of car.

As soon as I got into the store, I knew what she was up to. There wasn’t a single shred of male clothing in the place. I tried to turn around and back out the door but she had a vice like grip on my arm. She was laughing the whole time as she pulled clothing off the rack. Soon I had an armful of crap and she was pushing me into one of the dressing rooms. I knew what a colossal bad idea this was. But that didn’t seem to stop her. She was a girl on a mission and apparently, tonight I was going to be one right along with her. I frowned at the clothes in my hands, none of which had a hemline that went anywhere close to my knees.

So I slowly undressed, knowing there was no way I was going to get her to relent. When I got my pants and shirt off, I frowned at my body. It was as scrawny as usual but there was something else wrong about it. For one thing, I didn’t seem to have any body hair---not that I had much to begin with. Now it was all gone. I even checked under my arms but there was no hair there. What the hell is going on with me? I started to check my body to make sure there was no other surprises and got another shock: my butt was bigger. It wasn’t huge or anything but it was definitely bigger and my hips were a bit wider too. I cursed. Something totally fucked up was going on here.

Katie pounded on the door. “Hurry up in there, Rachel, the night isn’t getting any younger.”

Rachel? She’s gotta be kidding. I tried not to think about my new name or my new bodily changes. Instead, I grabbed the dress sitting on the little bench and pulled it over my head. What I saw in the mirror shocked me. I looked like a girl and not some guy in a dress either. I looked like a pure blooded one hundred percent female girl. My mouth dropped open a bit. With the hair and the tight black dress hugging my new feminine curves, I was kinda hot. I stood and stared for the longest time. I didn’t even notice the door opening. I did hear the gasp from behind me. I turned and Katie was standing there with her mouth wide open.

“Where the hell did you get those hips?”

I shook my head, tearing up. She recovered and then quickly pulled me into her arms. I cried for a bit on her shoulder. I was scared to death. There was something going on with me, something bad. I cried for a while. Katie finally sat me down and handed me a tissue from her purse. She tried to talk me out of this night. She was just having some fun after all. But I shook my head. I told her I’d go to the club with her and I was going to go through with it. She smiled and then helped me put on my heels. When I stood, I was a little wobbly but I got the hang of it pretty quickly. When I stood next to Katie, I realized I was an inch taller than her. I looked her up and down. She was wearing a halter top and tight skirt but her heels weren’t nearly as high as mine. She was right. If I did wear heels, I was taller than her. She made a comment about my legs but I frowned at her. She seemed to get the picture.

“OK, Rach” she said, using her new name for me. “I’m going to do your makeup then we can leave.”

I nodded numbly as I sat down on the little bench. I’m not sure if the women in the store appreciated us taking up one of their dressing booths for so long but I didn’t really give a damn. After Katie was down with my face, I reluctantly stepped out into the store. It felt like the three of four women in the store were giving me daggers. I could a green glow around a few of them. I couldn’t help but smirk at that. Me I felt like I was on Cloud Nine. Katie took our tags to the register and paid for our things. When we got out to her car, she laid the biggest kiss on me ever. It was quite the thing, especially when we played a little tonsil hockey.

“What happened to your whole aversion to lesbianism?” I asked when she pulled away.

She patted my cheek. “Not tonight babe.”

We went to the same club as the other time. This time there was a line and a long wait apparently. When we got out of the car---Katie showing me the proper way to do it---a few guys stared. I thought maybe I slipped up and blew my secret but Katie just laughed. She whispered in my ear as we stepped on the curb. Apparently, they were staring because I was hot. I blushed at that. Then she slipped her arm around mine and the two of us walked toward the large gray building. We started toward the back when the guy at the rope called us over.

“You ladies can go right on in.,” he said, stepping aside.

My eyes widened. Last time it took us nearly an hour to get in. I smiled sweetly to him as Katie and I slipped on by. I couldn’t believe he let us through so quickly. Katie looked a little surprised too. She kept mumbling about a time she went here with a few of her female friends and it took them nearly two hours to get in. Did that mean…no it wasn’t me, was it? I shook that thought off as we walked down the narrow hallway to all the noise. The place was alive tonight. The room was cast in darkness as colorful strobe lights lit up the area one place at a time. The music was pounding. Katie shouted something to me that sounded like drinks. I nodded and she disappeared into the crowd. I was immediately squashed by all the people around me.

A few minutes later, Katie was back. She handed me a test tube filled with a pink liquid. “What the hell is this?” I asked in her ear, she shrugged downing hers.

I frowned. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink?”

“I changed my mind,” she shouted back as she delicately took my hand and pulled me into the crowd.

I felt ridiculous. But Katie seemed to be getting into it. She was thriving and moving to the music. She saw how stiff I was so she grabbed my arms and started moving them for me. I got a little looser after that. Then I really got into the swing of things. I found myself imitating her and the other girls around us. Soon the atmosphere seemed to take over. I saw a swirl of crazy colors all around me. It just wasn’t the strobes either. The color coming from the people was wild and crazy too, like a throbbing rainbow. I swayed and moved with it. I got lightheaded and tipsy one minute, very coherent the next. I felt hot and cold, sweaty and dry. Then I felt hungry but not for food. It was like something came over me, something feral and ravenous. Like in the car but multiplied by ten. Katie didn’t seem to be affected by it or if she did, she didn’t act as crazy as I did.

After a few minutes, I lost sight of her altogether. I should have been upset but I wasn’t. Soon I felt someone pressed against me, thriving and dry humping my backside. I got lost in the moment. It wasn’t until I felt something hard against my butt cheek that I realized it wasn’t her. I turned and found a guy behind me. I looked at the clear bulge in his pants. I should have been repulsed by it but I wasn’t. Instead, I smiled and licked one of my fingers. I had no idea what was coming over me but I kinda liked it. I started to dance with him; our bodies pressed close, my arms draped around his shoulders. I’m not sure how long I dance that way but I was having fun.

That fun was shattered when a strong hand grabbed my arm and pulled me from him. The grip on my arm was tight, sharp nails dug into my arm. It wasn’t until we were out of the squash of people that I realized it was Katie. She dragged me all the way to the hallway and then right out the front door. I was tipsy and groggy until we got out of club. As soon as I was away from all that, the witch flipped again. I felt sick. I’d just danced with a guy and liked it. I wanted to throw up. Instead, I didn’t even get a chance as Katie dragged me over to her car. She opened the door and practically shoved me inside. I could tell she was pissed off.

“What the fuck, Kate” I said as she slammed her down when she got inside.

“What the fuck, Kate” she said angrily. “How about what the fuck were you doing, Ryan?”

I bit my lip and shook my head. “I don’t know.”

She looked like she was going to blow her top. “Famous last words.”

She started the car, squealed the wheels and we tore out of there. I barely got my seatbelt on as we peeled off. We went right back to the college. Instead of taking me to my dorm, she took me to hers. I didn’t say a thing until we were out of the car. When I asked her what we were doing here, she glared at me. I kept my mouth shut and followed her inside. Luckily, there was no one at the desk waiting. Katie checked in and I followed her into the elevator. We rode in silence to her floor. When we got out, she grabbed my arm and dragged me down the hall to her room. Katie had one roommate---Sarah---but she was never around. Sarah was a big partier; she usually didn’t get home until way after two. Katie slammed the door when we got into her room. I looked around, amazed at how different our two rooms were. Katie was a neat freak whereas Bart and I didn’t really give a damn. We weren’t slobs but we hardly cleaned up after ourselves.

I sat on the edge of Sarah’s bed and Katie laid into me.

“Jesus Christ, Ryan, you were ready to hump that guy.”

“I was not,” I snapped back.

“Pretty damn close.”

I could tell she was getting angry. Katie was usually a calm blue color but she was getting darker and darker. I could feel myself getting darker too. She was the one who dressed me like this and she was the one who dragged me there. I didn’t even want to go. I kinda lost my temper a bit after that.

“This is your fucking fault you God damn hypocrite, I didn’t even want to fucking do this.”

She flared at that one. “Me, you’re the one who was getting butt fucked by that perv.”

“What, jealous?”

It wasn’t the right words. I regretted saying them. Katie lashed out and slapped me across the face, hard. The sound of her hand on my flesh resounded in my ears. I felt a burning in my chest and a tingle. I knew I was about to lose it, whatever it was. But I forced it down, fought back at it. I was still angry at her but I managed to control it.

Katie was seething, tears streaming down her face. “You can be the sweetest guy sometimes Ryan but other times you do stupid things. Sometimes when I’m with you I feel like I’m on top of the world but other times I just want to kill myself.”

I rubbed my cheek. I was pissed. In my mind, I thought maybe that was a good idea. It was only for a second and I felt bad thinking it but I was angry. Katie was still crying and dropped onto her bed. I approached her, putting my hand on her shoulder but she shrugged me off. That pissed me off even more. I bit my lip, holding back the urge to scream at her. Instead, I took a deep breath.

“I’m going to shower off, maybe cool down.”

She didn’t say a thing. So I stormed off toward her in suite and slammed the door. Katie was an RA so she had her own private bathroom. It even had a little closet. I opened the closet where she usually kept her linens, towels and things. At the bottom of it was a duffel hidden under a pile of towels. Inside was a spare change of clothes for me. We stashed it there for when I spent the night. I hadn’t yet but it was a big possibility at some point. I grabbed it and stripped out of my dress. I kicked off the fucking heels and turned on the water. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water run down my body. I was still pissed off at her. She was jumping to conclusions, making things up in her alcohol-addled brain. But at the same time, I knew I was partially guilty. I’m not sure what came over me tonight. It was like my body was on autopilot and I was getting lost in the moment. Just like that time in the car. I closed my eyes and thinking about that guy grinding against me made me feel sick. I dry heaved a few times but nothing came up. Instead, I stood there and let the water wash over me.

I showered for about fifteen minutes. I got my head straight while I was doing it too. As much as I thought, it was her fault I needed to be the better person and apologize. I took a deep breath as I shut the water off. I stepped out and dried off as good as I could. Then I opened my duffel taking out the clothes inside. I pulled on the boxers, sweat pants and t-shirt. There were no shoes because we both assumed I’d have those if I spent the night. I turned to look at myself in the mirror and frowned. There were still traces of makeup on my face, especially around my eyes. I sighed. Katie really did do a good job. I took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry babe, it was my fault,” I shouted.

She didn’t respond. I splashed water in my face, trying to get rid of the makeup traces.

I called to her again. “Katie, you win. That has to count for something.”

Still no response.

I got annoyed. She was pulling the silent treatment on me. I swallowed my pride and pulled open the bathroom door. I was about to berate her for childishness when I stopped dead in my tracks. Katie was sitting on her bed, a glassy look to her eyes. In her left hand was a kitchen knife and she was repeatedly cutting her right wrist over and over again. Her clothes were already crimson with her blood. Her right hand was almost severed clean from her arm. For the longest time I just stood there, shocked at what I was seeing. Then my common sense took over.

I raced into the room, grabbing the knife. I yanked it from her hand. As soon as I did so, she flopped forward onto the floor. I screamed in panic. I grabbed the handset and clumsily started dialing 911. I was frantic as I dialed. But my hand was slick with her blood and the phone fell from it. I didn’t pick it up. Instead, I pressed my wet towel against her wrist, trying to stem the blood that was flowing from it. The towel was soaked in seconds. I screamed for help at the top of my lungs. Then something happened, something overtook me. There was a sharp, searing pain in my stomach. I doubled over from it, letting go of the towel. The pain hit a second time and I dropped on the floor.

I cried out, tears streaming down my face. The pain hit a third time and I blacked out.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF