"You won't say anything unless I tell you to."

I see you nod your head and whimper. You're pathetic, did you know that? Why are you so afraid of me all of the sudden? Aren't I just a girl? Isn't that what you said that day? Are you being such a coward just because I have a knife pressed down your throat? Is it because, if I decide to pull up in one swift motion I can leave you to bleed to death? Is that why? Is it because you're afraid of death? Oh my dear, you should've thought about that, before you even thought I was just a girl.

I see you crying like a filthy little bitch, but that's just what you are. You make me sick. I smile at the stinging that runs through my hand after crashing with your nasty, sweaty cheek. You're nauseating, but it's really fun to turn the tables on you so unexpectedly, never thought I'd do this, did you? Never thought I could turn against you and feast on you like this, achieving it all by myself. Never thought I had it in me.

Surprise, surprise, I do.

This kerosene doesn't seem to like you, neither do the matches, or the striking they do as they fall down to encircle you in red, gold flames. You scream and thrash about in that flimsy little chair, ether and cloth long forgotten, along with those useful little mashed pills.

No, no date rape, mind you, I wouldn't stoop that low, don't care if you have, then again, it wouldn't surprise me. You see, it's men like you that turn us into that. Your eyes widen in fear, when you see the flames growing taller, and heat covering you with more intensity.

"Chicken! Take it like a man!"

My voice like a whip, in the merry crackling of the fire. I spit at your feet, you're nothing but disgusting. You're such a piece of shit that you even faint. You're hysterical, you're to die for, out of pure mirth that is. I want nothing to do with a bag of scum like you. I cut your ropes, and throw a bucket of water at you. You don't wake up, all the better.

Let the party continue.

I feed those flames and they dance happily at me, lapping at the air, at your tangible fear. I walk out from that forgotten, misplaced shed. In the middle of nowhere, ah, so ingenious I am right? Well there's more. I wonder are those salty gashes still burning? Ah too bad you're still unconscious to tell me, but you weren't too eager of them earlier. Your blood is just as meaningless as you are.

I lean against my car, and light a cigarette, sincerely I doubt the place will blow up, but if it does, there's no much loss to it, you see, there's only you inside, and I am rather distanced from it in case it does, so the only one going down here tonight, is you. I laugh at the thought, oh dear; you should've seen your face. I wonder if you dirtied your pants, actually I don't, something else for you to be embarrassed about if you get out of this one, and I think, there are a few things down that list so far, and I am liking it, every agonizing moment of it for you, is a minute in heaven for me.

That slow, excruciating, pain is for me a sweet, happy, nirvana. I am so happy! I am gleeful to be honest. I feel as if I can giggle, and maybe I allow a silly giggle or two for the sake of it. It's not as if you're in the position to hold anything against me. You're not. Trust me. Have the hairs on your legs, burnt yet? Oh no. There you are, took you long enough to wake up and run out.

Party pooper.

Ah well, absolute happiness doesn't last that long eh?

What will people say when they see this lunatic covered in blood, dirt and sweat, wearing nothing but his dirty underpants? Another smile creeps up to my face. You stop dead in your tracks when you see me. Don't worry, this was part of the plan, 'cause everyone deserves a second chance, even if you've had your ample share of second chances, but I believe none this close to death. You're frozen; you're expecting me to do something to you. No don't worry; I think I've done enough. I laugh at your moronic expression, of fear, and something akin to relief, since you managed to get out of there, but all of it tainted by the sight of me. Poor thing, I pity you. Ha! No I don't, but then again, I think you knew that. Smart, smart boy.

You drop to your knees, crying those useless tears, begging for your life, you make me want to hurl everything I've eaten for the past two weeks at you. Honestly stop kissing my ass. Your incoherent mumbles are starting to make my ears uncomfortable, and you're starting to deeply annoy me, but you've done that the whole night, with your stupid pleas, and hopes for forgiveness that were shattered and consumed by those flames. You try and reach out your repugnant hand to me in an attempt of changing my opinion, but that won't happen anytime soon. The point of my boot hits your face sending you backwards to the ground.

I rather not have used physical violence with you, but you should've known better than try to touch me again.

"Disappear; I don't want to see you again. The day I do, I'll be the last thing you ever saw"

You cover your head with your hands nodding, and mumbling incoherently, but I am obviously not paying attention to you, as you stand and run, covering with your hands the little ripped piece of dignity that you have left and run off, and away.

Happy two miles, that's how long it'll take you to get anywhere where there might be a living soul, that is, if you don't bump into something on your path. But alas; a girl can only dream.

Closing after my extinguished shed I return home, after what turned out to be a great evening. I go to bed with a broad smile and no remorse, no regret at all. And I fall asleep at peace with myself, and I thank you for letting me have that, at last.

Thank you.

Feb 1 - 06. 9:27 pm