Halloween

                                                 Halloween



I've always been typical. I wasn't in love with her.

Young, sexually frustrated, and lonely is how I would describe myself back then. She was pretty and sat behind me in English class. She liked the Smiths.

I spent that hour each day listening to her and her friends. The teachers words were wasted, thrown away. I joined the conversation only when it was forced. Just listening.

They talked about having sex with their boyfriends. They didn't like the boyfriends very much. I found this motivating. They started to include me more and more. She started touching me as she talked. A light tap on the shoulder or a small jab for emphasis of a meaningless statement.

I didn't feel anything. That drop in your stomach. Love. I just knew.

The pretty girl and her friends were going to a haunted house. I was invited to go. I said no, but they insisted and picked me up.

We stood in line and made fun of the carnie-type rednecks working there. When we went inside I was first. The "haunted house" was not scary. When the first so-called monster jumped out she grabbed me from behind. Our hands found each other in the dark. She held it tight and I felt nothing. We never let go.