The Story of a Boy

We were shy and cautious of each other. Both of us awkward and fumbling to appear nonchalant while neurotically obsessing over the smallest details. We walked for hours, up streets and boulevards and down to the train tracks by the water. We must have known each other in a past life, where we were great people who did great things. There was a comfort between strangers that spanned for decades over the course of that summer night, years ago. Our hands occasionally brushed against each other while we acquainted ourselves. That simple touch of skin to skin and his sweet nothings gave me goosebumps and butterflies. I was drunk on our conversations and dizzy with excitement. It started to rain, but even as we got drenched, I felt like we were the only two people on the planet that night. The stars had aligned and given us the opportunity to discover each other. He eventually took my face in his big strong hands and kissed me while the rain continued to pour from the heavens.
I open my tear drenched eyes for a moment to find these same hands on my throat. My goosebumps and butterflies have transitioned into fear and panic tonight. I am trying to control my breathing but his hands are big and strong and are pressed around my throat with such force that I can’t move or scream. His sweet nothings have become abusive profanities as we acquaint ourselves with the line that he has crossed. My heart is beating so loudly that I’m sure it’s about to explode. I feel drunk and dizzy as my knees begin to buckle. I can’t do anything but close my eyes again, listen to the rain falling outside my window and think of how we must be the only two people on the planet tonight