Once you cut a flower from the stem, it can't regrow. You've destroyed the vitality. Maybe that's why they call girls who've lost their virginity deflowered.

 

Acting normal, I smooth out my messy hair and yellow, disorganized sundress as I exit professor Durk's classroom. Before anyone can see or talk to me, I rush off to my dorm for a hot shower.

"Excuse me," A voice makes me stop dead in my tracks.

What do you want? I sigh mentally, reluctantly performing a 180 to meet the stranger.

New kid, I immediately assume. I've never seen him before.

His black, sleek hair falls just above his confused eyes.

"What?" My voice comes out harsher than I'd intended.

The boy remains seemingly unfazed. "I just transferred here from a few counties down. Could you tell me where this room is?"

I'm annoyed, but I decide not to let it show as I scan over his classes. "That's two doors down. The rooms are labeled by numbers. Follow them and you'll be fine." I turn on my heel and continue to walk away as if he was never there to interrupt me in the first place.

"Oi, what's your name?" His voice reaches my ears, slowing me down. "Just in case we meet again,"

"We won't." I say it loud enough for him to hear.

***

I sit in the school's learning center, fresh from a warm shower. I decided dark blue was the color that fit my mood.

I examine my grades on the student portal. "What?" I screech at the monitor as my eyes trail over the screen. "Failing math? How? This is--what?!"

The learning center librarian, Mrs. LaVoux, scowls over at me. “Ma'am, please keep your voice down.”

I fake a smile and mutter an apology.

How could he have given me a D? We discussed this earlier. If I gave him what he asked for, I'd get an A on those assignments.

I sigh. I don't enjoy what I do. Maybe I'm just doomed to fail. Doomed to be a failure just like my parents. Where are you now, God?

"It's you," That voice from earlier cuts through my thinking.

Sigh.

"I never got your name," The same black haired boy is here. As if it were normal, he's decided to sit beside me.

"Go away." I hiss. "Don't you have class or something?"

He shakes his head. "Apparently this is my free period. I figured I'd just stroll around the building to get familiar with it."

Uninterested in him anymore, I turn my attention back to the computer screen. "Go stroll somewhere else."

He just laughs. "You're funny."

“Shhhhh.” LaVoux goes again.

Kade ducks his head in embarrassment.

I cast a glare at him. "I'm funny?"

“Your attitude. You're so snappy. And quick with comebacks."

"Thanks." I say dryly.

"So, again, what is your name?" He presses.

I imagine squishing him like a bug. Go away and leave me alone, please. "Like I said before. None of your business."

"How 'bout I tell you my name, then?" He offers, green eyes twinkling. "I'm Kade."

"Kade," I repeat, "that's a weird name."

He shrugs. "Now tell me yours."

"I never agreed to tell you my name."

"Come on, it's just a name." With a smirk, he waves his hand. "Are you embarrassed?"

"No."

"So?"

I snap. "For the love of... If I tell you, will you leave me alone and stop asking me questions?"

"All I want to know is your name,"

I pinch the bridge of my nose with eyes closed tight, imagining him not being there. "It's Dréa."

"As in Alexandrea?"

My eyes snap to meet his. "How did you know that?"

"My sister's name is Alexandrea. We all call her Alex, though."

"Fantastic." I log off the school's computer and pick up my bags. "Bye."

"Wait,"

If only I'd made it to the door, I would have smacked my head against it. Over and over. "What?"

"Can I call you Rea?" His eyes light up at his own idea.

"If I say yes, will you stop following me?"

"Well no, but..."

"So no." I deadpan.

"Then I can keep following you?"

What? "Just... I don't care!" I angrily respond, hastily walking down the corridor.

A/N: She a bitch, ain't she. =w=.

 

2: 2. Missing

I successfully reach professor Waters' room without receiving any strange looks from passerby. Usually, no one goes to class at this hour, hence my stealth mode.

Damn. Kade has the same free period as me. I need to avoid him as best I can.

Hesitantly, I open the polished wooden door and walk inside. Other than my wedged heels, it's silent. Eerily silent.

"Professor?" I call out shakily.

Am I really going to do this again?

I take a deep breath.

I'm so disgusted with myself. I wish I was smart. I wish I could understand everything like a normal human being, so I don't have to sleep around just to keep my grades stable. I'm a disgrace.

I still lock the door.

"Ah, my favorite student," Professor's voice rings with happiness as I walk up to his desk. "Dréa."

I glare at him. "If I'm your favorite student, why did I drop down to a D? You said you'd fix my last few tests. You said you'd give me the grade I needed to pass this semester."

Instead of at least feigning concern, a wicked smile plasters his white, middle aged face. "I needed you. I knew you'd come up here if you saw that D on your student portal. And I was right. Little Red Rea came back to the big, great wolf."

Big Bad Wolf, actually.

I wish I could slap him. But I can't make my hand do it. He's the one in charge of grading. "Look... Just please raise my grades. Please."

I beg to avoid any type of physical contact. But of course, it fails.

"Come here, then." The greedy grin on his lips says he won't just give me the A. I have to "earn" it.

I already locked the door. That doesn't mean I wish no one would come in. I wish someone would knock, break down the door to stop professor Waters from touching me.

But if that happened, I'd fail this class. Not only that, but everyone would find out what I do. What I've been doing.

I'd be the black sheep of the entire university. The slut. The hooker. The whore. I'd get kicked out. I'd never be accepted into any college ever again.

I've tried studying. I've read the entire math textbook on weekends, which was a huge waste of my time, because all I can do is solve for y and x. When it comes to real solving, I'm as useful was a cat.

I'm destined to be a failure, that's why.

I fight back tears as he enters inside me. I always try to make myself daydream of anything besides what's happening so the sex is less painful: porn, erotic novels, thinking of literally anything else to keep me wet, so the deed doesn't hurt.

I close my eyes the entire time. Instead of seeing a professor, I imagine my future husband. A great man with a stable job who cares for me. Comes back from work and hugs me tight, saying he missed me and how much he loves me. How special I am to him.

Then reality sets in like a dark fog, suffocating any source of life. I remember I'm not good enough to have a husband like that. I'm not even worthy of a husband. Not with what I do in college just to get by.

Who would even want me? I'm a broken, torn, ugly shell of a human being. My inner core to feel anything like appreciation, forgiveness, love and happiness has been missing within the span of two years.

Maybe it's just gone. Obliterated.

I open my eyes when I know he's done. "That was great," He breathes heavily. "I'll raise your grades right away." Professor Waters buckles up his pants and kisses my forehead.

Don't kiss me so casually.

An I really in the position to say that? I give this man sex casually.

"I gotta go now," My dry voice echoes in the room as he settles in his chair behind his dark, metal desk. "I'll see you later."

The words that had spilled from my mouth disgust me even further.

He smiles almost kindly at me.

Don't smile at me like that, bastard.

"See you," He waves me off as I quickly leave the room. Begging for that Kade boy not to randomly pop up and ask me annoying questions, I run-walk to the girl's dorm, desperate to get inside that damn shower.

I feel ugly. Disgusting. I've never been so lucky, dare I use the word, to have gone to a college where they have a myriad of showers for students.

I open my duffle bag to take out a clean dress, leaving it atop the bag.

I strip myself of my smelly blue dress. Even if no one else could smell it, I could. The scent of disgusting sex is just surrounding me. Suffocating me.

I scrub my skin with the red cloth hard. I scrub until I see red rashes form on my arms and legs.

It's still not gone.

It's like clip from a movie. The man will wash his hands over and over but in the end, the blood is still on his hands.

 

3: 3. Whispers

Numb by Linkin Park.

...

I drag my breath out as I listen to Ms. Lopez explain the Bill of Rights and why they were truly created.

"Hey," I hear Kade's voice as his hand taps my shoulder. "Rea?"

His innocent tone brings down my irritation just a tad. "What?"

"Do you have an extra pencil? Mine broke," He holds up his black Ticonderoga pencil with a torn tip.

I rub my temple. "You know they invented mechanical pencils, right?"

"They cost too much. Plus, I prefer simplicity. I'm a simple guy." Kade smiles bright, eyes lit with a hope that I'll give him a pencil.

"Mechanical pencils are simple, genius." I sigh. "Here." I hand him a red mechanical pencil from my bag. "Don't lose it."

I cast a glare when his fingers unnecessarily skim over mine. "Thanks. I'll repay you somehow," He grins crookedly.

I wave him off. "Just... Go buy new pencils and leave me alone."

"You say that a lot. Are you an introverted person?"

My foot begins to do its habitual shaking. "And what made you come up with a thought like that?"

"You don't say much." He shrugs.

"Do I need to?" An eyebrow arches.

He grins again. "Not exactly, but you should. You have a nice voice."

I give him a what-the-fuck glare.

He rolls his eyes. "Forget it. You know what?"

"Enlighten me."

"I'm having a--"

"No."

"...study group thing." He finishes awkwardly.

"Aren't you new? Who could you possibly invite to a 'study group thing'?"

"You," He shrugs.

"I don't study." The words leave my mouth too quick. The disgust and guilt crash down on me like the weight of a deep, deep ocean. It suffocates you.

Kade innocently laughs. "I bet you're failing all your classes."

I glare once more. "Do I look that stupid?"

Don't answer that.

He wafts his hand. "No. You look...decently smart."

I plaster a fake smile. "Oh gee, decently smart. Let me put that right next to my decently attractive trophy!"

"I was right."

"About?" My smile drops.

"Your smile is kinda weird."

"It wasn't a real smile."

"So you do smile."

"Of course I smile. Everyone does."

"You should smile often."

"You should leave me alone often."

"Miss Dréa, is there a problem?" Lopez's eyes, like daggers, dart to me. "I suggest you pay attention. Your grade desperately needs help."

I glare at her. "I'm listening."

She continues on with the lesson, her hips swaying as she dances across the chalkboard.

You'll never graduate. Why do you even try? You're destined to be a failure. You're worthless. Pathetic. Trash.

Jesus, what's with all this insecurity? I self-blame way too much. What's it called? Self-pity? Jesus fucking Christ, Dréa. You're a train wreck.

I sigh. On the bright side, Lopez is a woman. One less person I have to pleasure if I fail...

Did I really just say that? What the fuck is wrong with me?