August 5 1964

I am granted permission to go to variety store. Buy some candy.

I wasn't going for the candy though.

Eve had slipped a letter under my door.

'Harold's Variety'

Was all it read.

I felt drawn. Being so spacious from each other. It seemed odd. Almost painful.

I barely knew this girl existed two weeks prior to now.

Now … urges.

The urge to protect.

The urge to know.

The urge to have that ache in my gut.

As much as that revolted me.

No, not revolting. I was not intruding on this girl's life. She wanted me there. She invited me. Her eyes were the gateway to our world. A world we both knew existed.

A world where pretty boys could do dirty things, and ugly boys were thrown to the worst of the world. A world where pretty girls were done like dirt and the ugly girls were thrown under the bus.

A world where a savoir, a caregiver, a respectable individual could turn into Satan himself at a moments notice.

A world. Our world. The world.

We knew. We saw. We experienced. We lived in it.

We watched the heads turn and the faces disintegrate before us.

Fools.

She was sitting outside of the store.

Her lip had ceased to swell, and the bruises that had landed upon her arms were starting to turn yellow.

She didn't move. Just gazed at me. Expression was dim. Mine was evenly matched.

"Outlaw." She growled. I stopped in my tracks.

"The higher powers of this world try to break the scum up. Only, they don't know scum from the angels." Her voice lightens.

"Which are you?" I coughed. Feet stapled to the dirt beneath them.

"Do not know. One cannot see one's self for who they truly are. We all have a filter. Devils see themselves as angels. Angels see themselves as equals. Equals do not care."

I tilted my head. She was bright.

"My father fed me that bullshit." She chuckled. "The angels part. He said I was an angel. A true one. I was his angel."

"I'm sure he thought so." I stepped forward one step.

"Bringing one ecstasy. Is that what true angels do?" She questioned. Deep green eyes melting into my deep blue.

Another step forward.

"Is that what true angels do!" She shouted.

I didn't flinch.

"Only the fallen ones." I muttered back.

She smiled up at me. "What do you see?" Eve questioned.

I stepped once more. Now directly in front of her.

"An equal."

August 6 1964

I had a dream about her.

One of those dreams your not supposed to talk about.

Shirtless. Bruised. Dabbing herself. Mouth open from swollen lips. Me in the corner. She had me cornered. Those lips. She wouldn't let me go. Those eyes. She insisted. Those hands.

I woke up in a cold sweat. Pulling the blanket higher to hide my embarrassment. Only leaving my chest and up exposed.

I thought of those men. Those men who had no dignity. Those men who came to see my mother night after night. Those men who brought the demon into my house. Brought it upon my mind and my body. The men who caused a woman to cause a horrible burning.

Only now. The burning was different. The burning was good. There was no pain from it. Only stress. Only wanting. Only need.

Needy boy. Stress and Hormones. Give me a warning.

For I was the boy … her boy.

The disturbed child, with disturbed thoughts. Her hands.

The disturbed child, with disturbed dreams. Her mouth.

The disturbed child, with the disturbed girl. Her body.

I sank into my mattress. Suck me up, make me disappear.

Please.

Take me away from the confusion and burning. How I craved the burning.

August 10 1964

Only a week later, and I am permitted to see Eve again.

I suppose they had a new lock put on the cabinet room.

They felt safe.

They think the vermin of the world will stop with their greed and sex, just because they put a lock on one of the breeding grounds of curiosity and questioning.

Naive. Insane. Never thinking ahead.

They lead themselves to their own destruction. Others destruction. Their not caring leaves girls raped in the mud and boys thrown into the cold. They spread their selfish pity and hatred. They cause the world to rot. My world. Our world. Eve.

She was as subtle as ever. She hadn't said a word to me since I called her an equal. My equal.

But she had smiled and walked back to the House by my side.

She was leaving her room today. Holding a paper bag. She saw me and ran up the hall.

I stood. Standing in the silence and wondering what she was up to. She never ran places. She walked awkwardly, but with power. Power that I did not believe her to possess.

I felt a presence behind me.

Slowly creeping up.

Stiffness filled my muscles. Don't over react now. Walter, stress, hormones, control them. Ismirked at the voice in my head. God-damn fools!

A hand grabbed onto my shoulder. I spun smoothly. My fists clenching, ready to throw the vermin off.

Tingling hit my lips and my fist loosened. All I saw was green.

She backed off. She never left my eyes. She bit on her lips and started backing up.

I just stared. I think I felt my lower lip twitch, but I couldn't be positive.

"You're a good guy, Walter." She said, voice like velvet.

I wanted to double over from my stomach.

I recognized the look now. The look from before. The one that confused me because she had not known it herself. It frightened me.

"I like you. You're a good guy." She laughed and trotted away.

I gulped, tried to swallow my tongue. Walking into the closest washroom and locking the door behind me.

Glaring at myself in the mirror. Whore son. Ugly flaming hair. Horrid complexion. Short. Intimidating. Eyes too close together. Mouth not the right size.

What did she see. What could she see in me. Nothing. Because I see nothing in myself.

I smashed my foot through the cupboard door and slammed my self down onto the toilet seat. Rubbing the back of my burning skull. Eating away. Eating away. Fellow vermin, eating away.

"What does she see?!" I yelped, throwing my head forward.

Only, she wasn't vermin. She didn't look at me like I was vermin.

I glanced into the mirror. Catching hold of my blue eyes.

"Key to the soul." A soft voice cued.

I looked over, the bathroom door was open. Eve standing there.

Lock picker.

I looked down to my feet. Shoes rotting through.

"You're pure." She smirked, reaching into her sweater pocket and pulling out the brown bag.

She tossed it at my feet and closed the door behind her. Gentle foot steps echoing away.

I grabbed the bag, peered inside.

Pulling out a lighter.

Picture of a nuclear explosion on one side and the words: "Hot Red Head" on the other.

I chuckled.

Cheese.