Duality is an important part of life, to embrace the good and the bad, positive and negative. As well, it is just as important to see that most actions in life require more than one individual. Birth, love, robbery, rape. They cannot happen solo, it just doesn't work that way.
Shelly. All I can say is dear Shelly. Another blonde with an amazing body. Of course I have changed some aspects in this blog so it would not be too incriminating. We went to school together some time ago. Once again, an omission from the original journal entry. Actually, I have left out several things from the original because they would make it just a bit too easy, as will I continue to do so. Dates, specific locations... the names I will not change, they deserve the only thing that is left of them. But back to business.
She grew up a looker. Even when we were little, all of the boys traded their cooties for crushes when it came to Shelly. Naturally flamboyant, charming, tinctured with a sense of innocence and sincerity. She would listen, I mean truly listen to what a person had to say. As we all became older, her innocence only seemed to heighten her growing sensuality. Something about that idea of her submission seemed to drive us hormone raged teenagers crazy. That didn't really matter though, she had a taste for the older generation.
Quite a thinker too. Shelly was no fool, maybe that was her fatal swoop. Knowing too much too early, armed with all the arsenal she would ever need to make it quick and fast, never tempered with wisdom or patience. We all moved on after she dropped out, but most of us still fantasized about her for years after. Recently, I found out how easily my fantasy could manifest into reality. Sincere Shelly had become a high dollar whore.
As tempted as I was to taste, I held back. Duality must be recognized, for it is the forefather of hindsight. So I waited and listened. All these things going through my mind as I stood motionless in the closet, peering out through a small crack.
Still, she is a beautiful sight. It's funny, one might be inclined to think that this line of business would have some supernatural wear on a woman. Or maybe it is just the stereo type of what they normally look like. Regardless, there was only a woman dressed in class, filling the short, black dress well with the finest of ammunition.
She didn't take the money up front, that's not how she worked. There was no kissing, no sign of interest on her part at all. Just business. She had no idea who this guy was... but I did. To her, he was just another customer. To both of us, he was about to pay in full. He groped her ungracefully. She stood back, then slipped off her dress to reveal the curves of her body in their full glory, then unbuttoned his pants and lowered them to the floor. His head tilted back as she did what she was good at.
He only saw the ceiling as he stared up, she only saw the means to money as she worked. They both heard only one muffled shot. It took him a moment to register the pain of having been shot through the dick. Seems she might of had the better deal of the two. I pulled the silencer away from the back of her head and she remained kneeling for a moment, then fell over. He screamed. Oh, the sweet melody.
I wanted to let him live, to express how much it took two to tango. To explain to the police how he had gotten shot in the junk. Even better, to know that he couldn't hide this outing from his wife like he had all the others. I wore a simple ski mask. He had not seen my face, as I knew he wouldn't before this began. Without any resistance, I shoved a rubber ball in his mouth and then smacked him in the nose with the butt of the gun. He went down. The beauty of these kinds of motels, screaming is par for the course.
My dear Shelly. A part of me wanted to pay, to have completed that fantasy from my adolescent years. After seeing her on the floor, for what she really is, I knew I had made the right choice. Everything is right where it belongs. Duality has been sanctified in a single, silenced shot.
She grew up a looker. Even when we were little, all of the boys traded their cooties for crushes when it came to Shelly. Naturally flamboyant, charming, tinctured with a sense of innocence and sincerity. She would listen, I mean truly listen to what a person had to say. As we all became older, her innocence only seemed to heighten her growing sensuality. Something about that idea of her submission seemed to drive us hormone raged teenagers crazy. That didn't really matter though, she had a taste for the older generation.
Quite a thinker too. Shelly was no fool, maybe that was her fatal swoop. Knowing too much too early, armed with all the arsenal she would ever need to make it quick and fast, never tempered with wisdom or patience. We all moved on after she dropped out, but most of us still fantasized about her for years after. Recently, I found out how easily my fantasy could manifest into reality. Sincere Shelly had become a high dollar whore.
As tempted as I was to taste, I held back. Duality must be recognized, for it is the forefather of hindsight. So I waited and listened. All these things going through my mind as I stood motionless in the closet, peering out through a small crack.
Still, she is a beautiful sight. It's funny, one might be inclined to think that this line of business would have some supernatural wear on a woman. Or maybe it is just the stereo type of what they normally look like. Regardless, there was only a woman dressed in class, filling the short, black dress well with the finest of ammunition.
She didn't take the money up front, that's not how she worked. There was no kissing, no sign of interest on her part at all. Just business. She had no idea who this guy was... but I did. To her, he was just another customer. To both of us, he was about to pay in full. He groped her ungracefully. She stood back, then slipped off her dress to reveal the curves of her body in their full glory, then unbuttoned his pants and lowered them to the floor. His head tilted back as she did what she was good at.
He only saw the ceiling as he stared up, she only saw the means to money as she worked. They both heard only one muffled shot. It took him a moment to register the pain of having been shot through the dick. Seems she might of had the better deal of the two. I pulled the silencer away from the back of her head and she remained kneeling for a moment, then fell over. He screamed. Oh, the sweet melody.
I wanted to let him live, to express how much it took two to tango. To explain to the police how he had gotten shot in the junk. Even better, to know that he couldn't hide this outing from his wife like he had all the others. I wore a simple ski mask. He had not seen my face, as I knew he wouldn't before this began. Without any resistance, I shoved a rubber ball in his mouth and then smacked him in the nose with the butt of the gun. He went down. The beauty of these kinds of motels, screaming is par for the course.
My dear Shelly. A part of me wanted to pay, to have completed that fantasy from my adolescent years. After seeing her on the floor, for what she really is, I knew I had made the right choice. Everything is right where it belongs. Duality has been sanctified in a single, silenced shot.
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