It was a thirty minute train ride during peak hours. She caught sight of him as she came down the escalator to the underground area. He wore a baseball shirt and a cap over his eyes. Spectacles, a slight goatee growing on the tip of his long face, standing over a foot above her head. She followed behind him as they got on the train and turned her back on him as soon as she found something to hold on to. It was still hard for her to balance on her two inch heels, so as the crowd went in and out of the train, she found herself holding onto the pole he was holding as well. As each station passed, she swore it would be his stop.

"Subang," she thought. "He seems like a Subang kid. No? Okay."

"Batu Tiga. He won't go any further than this." The boy stood in his place. "Well."

"There's no way he's stopping at Shah Alam too," she thought as the train approaches the next station. The sky was getting dark and it seemed unfit that a girl like her was out alone. "Fuck what other people thinks," she thought. "I'm better off alone anyway."

As the door opens, she starts for it, and notices that boy moving beside her. "No way... What a huge coincidence. Does he notice me? That we're stopping at the same place?"

"Does he feel the same way?"

They pass the ticket inspection and she walked towards the taxi waiting area when the boy approached her. "Hey! Hey you, with the purple shirt!"

She turned, surprised.

"You got a ride home?"

He touched her cheek as soon as he locked the apartment door. She breathed quietly as he bent down, sticking his tongue in her mouth before their lips touched. They made out by the door, his hands touching her from her neck to her shoulders to her breasts to her ass, and as one thumb pressed against her crotch, he unzipped his trousers with his other hand.

"Wait wait wait," she stopped him, letting go of his lips' grasp. "I don't do third base."

"What?"

"I'm keeping my virginity."

"What the fuck for?" he smirked, pulling her skirt's hem playfully. "I know you're wet down there already anyway."

"That's not the point," she said, looking away when he tried to get hold of her lips again.

"Oh come on," he whispered. "It won't hurt, I promise..." He pulled down his trousers to his ankles, busy working on both his boxers and her skirt.

She gave a slightly crooked smile as her hand swiftly reached into her handbag for the butterfly knife. He didn't see anything in the dark and foolishly drooled with joy when he manages to get her skirt down to the ground. In a blink of an eye, the girl pushed the blade into his stomach and pulled it back out. His eyes bulged out, looking at her exasperatedly. She then sliced his throat, blood spluttering on her smooth complexion and the purple blouse and the yellow walls. The body fell on the wooden floorboards underneath them as she sighed.

"Shit. Not again."

She pulled her skirt back on and took off her shoes, peeping around for the kitchen. "Tea, tea, tea, tea..."

After washing her blade and hands clean, she boiled some water and looked for any signs of tea in the cupboards. "Score! And it's the good kind too. Man, that was too bad. I didn't even get to talk to him... Seemed like a nice guy."

She sat next to a window, staring out at the moon. The scent of blood seeped through every room of the small apartment, but she kept her nose by the mug of tea. Quietly sipping her worries away, she thought of all the boys that couldn't keep their dicks in their pants, and then the one guy who wouldn't even look at her, and how she would do anything for him to love her the way he loved that other girl, and her tea turned cold and salty from her tears dripping down her cheeks into the mug, and her hands shook on her lap, and the scent of blood was then accompanied by the quiet sobs of a girl who was never loved.

Labels: horror, romance, the unreal, violence