Hello Darling!

I was late, fucking late, on my first day of school. New city, new people, everything new. Solely, I was to blame for that. I even slept on time and set an alarm of sharp six am, as school time was eight am.

I had entire two hours to get ready to look sexy, but it was all in vain. I wanted to be prepared for my first day, ready for heads to turn in my direction. I even laid out my school uniform, polished black shoes, and a backpack full of necessary stationery. I was prepared for the next day and excited to begin my new old journey.

It was all because of a pee that I woke up at around three am. I drink water a lot, but I am sure I was not suffering from polydipsia. It’s just that I had spicy food last night, and I chugged down a shit load of water because of utter thirst that I couldn’t control myself from drinking like a dried-up camel in the barren desert. It was such a relief to empty my bladder. I yawned, and with closed eyes, I trotted towards my cosy queen-sized bed to sleep, but luck was so not on my side when I stubbed my pinky toe.

“Mother fucking god of hell”. I cursed lightly, not wanting to wake up my parents sleeping downstairs and my little brother next door. The pain was intense, sharp and sudden. I felt my feet throbbing. I concluded that my toe was broken and fractured, and tears brimmed in my eyes at the thought of fracture. I looked down to see a slight cut oozing with blood. I was not energetic enough to go downstairs for an ice pack and didn’t want to cause any disruption to my family, as they were already tired and asleep.

I, on one foot, dragged myself back to the bathroom to let cold water flow over the cut. I looked for a band-aid on the bathroom shelf but I was devastated when I found none. My last hope was my study desk- I usually kept band-aids everywhere for emergencies like this- but maybe not, as there were none in the bathroom. I crawled towards my desk near the balcony, hoping to find one or two band-aids. Luckily, I found it in the third drawer of the desk. Too tired to move again, I opened the sliding doors of the window and sat on the tiled floor of my balcony to nurse my toe. I sighed, drained of energy. I lay there, leaning against the glass railing, too tired to move. I closed my eyes- it was, to a certain extent chilly, and the soft breeze was somewhat soothing. I felt at peace, and my toe was relatively better than before. I was about to doze off when I heard a grunt. My eyes flew open at the unexpected noise at the late hour. I brushed it off, thinking that it was some animal, and stood up to get back to my room as I got goosebumps due to the wind.

I heard it again.

This time it was a loud grunt, and it sounded rather distressed. The sound wasn’t getting any slower but louder. I stopped in my tracks and felt scared. I leaned against the balcony to look downwards, thinking some thief was trying to crawl up. I eased when I saw none and looked upwards to see the most horrid sight ever. I was taken by surprise and unprepared. No one would be, and I was no different. My mouth gaped open.

Across the balcony was a similar house to mine, and I was dumbfounded by what I witnessed through a window a naked lady beating a naked boy with a belt or maybe whip.

A whip? The heck.

And what was more shocking was when I realised it was Mrs Smith, my next-door neighbour who was usually sweet and kind. My brain froze at the horrendous activity taking place not far from ten meters from my house. I would have figured out what was going on even if the house was a hundred meters apart, but it was freaking ten meters. It was not so hard to identify Mrs Smith, who seemed to be rejoicing in the pain of that naked boy who was sitting in the rock position and his spine straight. I was confused as to what to do. Should I call my parents? Police? Or run? It can be personal and consensual too, but why the heck they didn’t use blinds?

For the love of god, there is something known as curtains. Did they do it deliberately? Then I realised it was late at night and was not expecting someone watching their wild sexual rendezvous. I was also not someone with either BDSM kink or voyeur kink. I quietly turned back, to go to bed to sleep, but quiet was not on my dictionary. I somehow managed to stub my pinky toe on the same spot again.

Fuck me.

“Shit”, Damned my ill fate for cursing out loud, I hold the railing to support myself from fainting due to the pain. I heard the sliding doors, and my heart was ready to come out.

Shit shit shi-

I ducked behind the potted plant to hide myself hoping no one would see me. I squeezed my eyes shut in fear of anticipation. My heart was beating crazily, and I felt anxious. I quietly turned around- to look another side- still hiding behind the plant. A young guy- more like a teenager- was standing there scanning and searching for any sounds. The guy was handsome, from what I could make out; his black hair and tanned skin, at least he was wearing jeans now. I wasn’t so sure about the eye colour, but he had that tired look. He seemed damaged and used. After all, he was a source of entertainment to that sadistic lady. Seeing his fallen face made me wonder if it was consensual or not. I wanted to help him but I could not be hasty, for it was risky to act on rash decisions. Witnessing awful activity had the intensity to elicit the instinct to lend a helping hand. The problem was, how?

I was hiding, waiting for him to go inside and ignore the possibility that they even heard something. I was being ironic, and I loathed myself for that.

What situation had I brought upon myself? I said this while looking at the sky, hoping for some miracle. The teenage boy, a paedophile next door and school the next day.

It was a mess. I was a mess.

Good lord, please help me. I swear I won’t drink water from now on. Just this once, Please. I was the very definition of unlucky when I found the boy’s eyes on me. I tensed, unable to form words or run and defend myself from his calculating eyes. His gaze was intimidating, cold enough to freeze the hell. I was not going to back down like hell I will. I, too, stared at him in full-on staring mode. Our staring contest came to an end when I looked behind him to see Mrs Smith approaching- naked at that- and putting her hand on his back. He visibly flinched. My heart tugged at that sight. He- without question- was scared of her but was trying to intimidate me with his resentful gaze. They exchanged a few words, and I saw him shaking his head in no. I heaved a relaxed sigh that he didn’t give me away, like he would have gained anything or like I would have gone down without putting up a fight. I was still in that position, too stunned to comprehend the given situation. He gave me a last look before turning back.

He sighed and went back inside with Mrs Smith on his trail like a puppy, quite a contrast from before. Their relationship seems strange, nasty and illicit at the same time. Under these circumstances, I was able to conclude only one thing that Mrs Smith was Dominatrix, fucking dominatrix and a borderline paedo. I was apprehensive. Fear gnawed at me, knowing something dangerous was happening not far from here. Not as dangerous, if the location was not this neighbourhood, but it freaking was, and the house next to mine made it more sickening.

As this was already not enough. One of the biggest huge shocks of my life was waiting for me. I- at this moment- really wanted to faint. Why my life was so full of twisty like some pretzel? Why can’t it be as straight as me? What wrong did I do to be in this terrible mess? It was not like I wanted to stain my virgin eyes and get scarred for the rest of my life.

When I entered the rowdy market, sorry, I mean the classroom. The guy from yesterday was there sitting in the backseat, surrounded by many girls and boys. Laughing and jesting with each other like nothing ever happened. He finally saw me and smirked. He fucking smirked. At me. The audacity of him.

Fucking masochist!