Covering my throat, my belly, my hips, and finally my slit. You watch me squirm and scream and whimper as colors cover my skin. Letting the wax cool ...nd harden on me, you walk away, only to come back with a crop. “I want to see how tender that skin is now.” You proceed to beat me with your crop, cleaning my skin of the wax. Each blow stinging with the force of the hit, and the peeling of the wax.Once my now inflamed skin is cleared of the wax, you admire the hot pink flesh that has been. Johnny told his teacher he would stop when he needed glasses. I already wore thick glasses, was rather near sighted like my dad. I wondered if he did that too much. Maybe that’s why he took up smoking.Then I moved, still alive and peered out the front door window across the street at an angle to the old McCanta house, remembering. I’d stuck a child’s garden play set rake into Pat McCanta’s head when I couldn’t take his constant bantering anymore. His mother went berserk and I went home.Later, a. More

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