𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑹𝒀

𝟎𝟏; 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬.

𝐽 𝐴 𝑌 𝐷 𝐸 𝑁

--

I count the number of hidden claw marks around my room; I make them during my frequent bouts, they show me the extents of my rage. I keep count because they're important. my walls have them since I don't ever claw up myself, and I don't want to. for now, I believe that I'm too beautiful for that. that opinion'll change later though because my opinion always does.

"it always do," I say back. I have conversations with my mind because it's the smartest thing I know.

my phone dings! and I almost throw it across the room, but then I remember it's not the phone's fault, it was the person messaging me.

so I hoped it was someone who lived in pearl city, so I could throw them across a room.

I look and it's saya, my usual late afternoon pastime instead of homework. she asks if I wanna fuck. I don't hesitate, I answer immediately and I leave my house, thankful that mom wasn't there to ask me any questions on where I was going.

on the way to saya's, the skies change to a particular shade of pink, a peach type; it reminds me of the color of saya's pussy.

I don't get hard at the thought because saya was quickly getting boring to me now, but out of that familiar fucking feeling of being myself, that opinion changes. saya doubts that I'll find anyone better than her, sometimes I believe her and sometimes I tell her to get out of my face, saying what I only believed half of the time: "pussy is pussy."

when I arrive at saya's place, the door is unlocked and there is horrible music playing that saya believes will create a sexual mood. I shut the door and go straight for her room, finding her on the bed with a matching lace dark green bra and underwear, I almost smirk. I liked lace, it kind of felt nice that she knew how to get something fucking right. but I hated that she knew and planned on me to like it, I still did, but I didn't want to be predictable, and I wanted someone as unpredictable as me. and saya, like most girls, or like most people, were nowhere near that at all.

I take my clothes and the lack of hers off before I fuck her hard. saya, like usual, frowned at first because there was no foreplay, but was still as wet as a river anyway. I dig my face in her neck as my hips move as fast as they want, saya moans and whines for me like a fucking baby, but I don't focus on her, I focus on the feel of her pussy until I cum. I knew she came first because I felt it, and knowing that at least she was fully satisfied, because I'm such a proper fucking gentlemen, I pull out, put my clothes on and leave.

after I fuck, I go to the woods to scream.

there is no reason behind it, it just became mandatory to do so. I don't know why I'm screaming, and I don't know who I'm screaming at. it just happens; and on the God my mom insists that I believe in, it feels more relieving than coming inside a girl.

I scream until I'm on my knees and pounding the ground underneath me, another part of me thankful that these burberry jeans were dark enough to hide the dirt smears. after a while, I'm quiet. when I'm on my knees still, torso bent over my thighs with both of my hands in my hair, I smell the burning of wood.

at first I think some idiot started another fucking forest fire, but then I think it over a bit and dismiss the idea. the smell was nearby, so if a forest fire was happening, I would already be dead.

I stand and without thinking, I stalk towards the smell. and the closer I get, the more intoxicated I feel.

I see a bed of burning wood at a tiny forest clearing and notice that it's a controlled fire, probably set off with a lighter; I was kind of thankful at the realization that the fire wouldn't grow. I wasn't planning on dying today.

suddenly, a girl comes into view, carrying more wood in her arms, a matchbox poking out her jean jacket pocket. she doesn't notice me at first, she plants the timber down and creates another wooden bed before she lights that on fire too. then she sits down on the soil, perhaps too closely to the flames, and just watches them burn.

it felt enthralling to watch her watch fire. she seemed to stop breathing, sitting as still as the trees around her as cinder fell on her clothes and her lion's mane of hair. neither of us move until both of the fires stop; and when they do, she stands abruptly. I move slightly and fuck up the silence by stepping on a twig. the crack echoes. she turns and sees me for the first time, and my heart starts beating faster when she does. she looked too fucking beautiful in her dirtied-up clothes and grime-smeared face. I couldn't look away.

"do you watch everyone you don't know?" she asks me suddenly. I could tell it was with an attitude, but her beauty boxed me in such a daze that I ignored it.

"there's not enough time in the world for me to do that."

then there's a brief pause before I ask her the question that had been picking at me.

"what inspires you to watch fire like it gives you life?"

she doesn't speak at first, as if unsure she should answer a stranger. she does anyway.

"I watched it burn someone who tried to take it away from me."