"You know, I'm not sure what it is about you, but you're rather intimidating."

"Intimidating. In-freaking-timidating! Why does everybody always call me that? What is it about me? I'm 5'2" for God's sake! What's scary about little ol' me?"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing, love."

"But it is! Don't you understand? I scare people away. They're all afraid to get close to me. They all think I'll come to their house and hack them to pieces while they sleep or something. Aren't they? And that's why isn't it?"

"Why what?"

"Why I'm still a virgin. Why I've never even been kissed. I'm 19 years old, William. And I've never even been kissed."

"I think I get it now. I think I understand what it is about you that is so incredibly off-putting."

"Oh yeah? Care to share with the rest of the class, oh great wise one?"

"No need to be rude, now. I'm only trying to help."
"Whatever."
"You know, you've got all this passion that is at this very moment making you both terrifying and damned near irresistible."

"This is you helping me?"

"You are so sexy right now, expressing your real thoughts and beliefs. You're bloody pissed at yourself and the world. And it is totally working for you."

"What?"

"I want you so badly right now. Only reason I'm resisting is because of your virgin status. 'Course, that is also making it harder. And I mean harder. Used to get off on that sort of thing, you know. So I'm just gonna go. Remove myself from the temptation. You understand." He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm. "Listen, pet, I need to go. I might hurt you."

"I – I want you to."

"To hurt you? Are you mad?"

"I want you to be the one."

"The one?"…. "Oh. OH. Now I know you've lost it. Goodbye." I stepped in his path. "Move."

"No."

"Please. I don't want to hurt you. And I don't want you. Not like this."

"You don't want me?"

"NO! I didn't say that! Wasn't I just going on not two minutes ago that I wanted you?"

"I want you…" He looked down at me from about ten inches taller. And he grabbed me. Not rough. But not exactly gentle either. He leaned over, very slowly, and he pressed his lips to mine. Soft and sweet at first, but he started getting more forceful. Before I knew it, my back was against the wall. His body was hard against my own, softer form. His hand was sliding up my skirt. His teeth were caressing my neck. His skin was on fire. I was on fire. We were burning alive. But I was so alive. And that's the way he left me. I woke up on the kitchen floor. I was freezing. Shreds of clothing littered the floor around me. I found a scrap of paper on my shoes. Written in his unmistakable chicken scratch were the words, "I told you I'd hurt you."

That night was not the last night I saw him. He haunts me. He's in my dreams every night. He's with me every time I kiss another man. He's there, like a shadow, every time I make love. Every time I almost get close to someone, that's when I remember. I remember that he was the only one in my entire life that wasn't afraid of me. And that's why they always leave. That's why I drive them away. That's why they always have to die. I can't stand to see his eyes looking at me out of their faces.

William was right. He hurt me. He's still hurting me. Every damn day of my life. My unlife. He gave me this THING in exchange for my last drop of blood and the only shred of purity that I possessed. He hurt me. And I hurt him. Dust in the wind.