Whack, whack, whack, the thing striking regularly; not over hard but over about 5 minutes it begins to really hurt, he kept to his task though I sense... he was waiting for something to happen The doorbell rang, the paddle instantly discarded he muttered “oh good”, he had been waiting for that bell. My mind began to race as he left me secure the kitchen door open and walked to the front door. I heard it open, cool air tumbling into the room, from the long haul; outside, a male voice, straining. The music was loud and all conversation had to be bellowed."Hey, how are you doing?" He shouted into my ear, getting me away from a drunk eighteen year old skater boy."This party's shit man... Why am I even here?" I complained, pulling at the lace of my dress."Because I want you to meet someone." He shouted back, grabbing my hand and pulling me through the people into a back room. It was his parents bedroom, and with the door shut conversation suddenly became possible. With his back to us was a. More

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