My stomach knotted as though I was going to throw up. I felt a lead weight on my heart. Mostly, I felt despair. Fucked up again. The evidence was quit... clear. "Clear," in fact, described the result perfectly. Virtually no detail at all in the negatives. Nothing. Zilch. Nothing I could salvage, even with the hardest highest-contrast paper I could find. It was hopeless. I felt like shit. Like failure. Dad wouldn't have approved, I'm sure of that.Just a fuckup. That's what it felt like and that's. “Is this what you came to my class for? Are you just here for me to fuck you?”“No.” “Then why are you here?” “Because I need to learn to defend myself.” I said.“I don’t believe you. I saw the way you stood to the side at your school, watching, waiting. You wanted something then and I think you want it now. Tell me what you want.”“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I said, starting to turn red. How could he know this? He saw me that day. A mental image came into my head of me standing. More

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