All the Times She Said Yes
She pulled me into a hall closet, took off her shirt and asked me if I liked what I saw. She was too young so I resisted the urge to put her nipple in my mouth and rejoined the party.
She rubbed against me and asked me what kind of cologne I was wearing. I told her it was speed stick and walked away.
She turned down the lighting and when I asked why she said that everyone looked better in the dark. Then I left. She was my third cousin.
She asked me if I would invite her into my room. Call me pussy but she was moving a little fast. We went our own ways and later fucked each others roommates.
We'd had a lot to drink when she told me she wanted to do something crazy, wanted me to show her my room. I brought her upstairs went in to the next room to hit the bong for only five or so minutes, when I came back she was gone. I looked for her, and found her by the fire pit in the backyard. She was sitting on a complete strangers lap in her bra and panties.
She told me she wanted to come over to "fix her computer" while her boyfriend was away. She was older and taken so I blew her off.
She spent a week in my dorm room. We slept side by side. We smoked pot and stuffed our faces. After a week I tried to kiss her. She never slept in my bed again.
I told her that I too played the violin. She stripped and laid down beside me. I told her she was beautiful, and she was. I brushed the hair out of her face and held her till the sun rose. The next day was awkward.
I'd heard she had genital warts. She showed up at my house and told us all that she did not. She then proceeded to try to sleep with my older brother, then me, then my younger brother. She didn't get far.
She invited me over to her house. I showed up with a sleeping bag and a book of poetry. I still don't know why I didn't go through with that one. I guess I just got a bad feeling.
Looking back she wanted me to kiss her.
I should have kissed her.
Figment in Your Head
For all you know, I'm dead, and the person here before you is a figment in your head.
And, I feel, inside, that I've gotten motion sickness and life's a bumpy ride.
And I know, life's not bad, it's confounded by the doubts and all the false starts I've had.
And I feel that I'm right, but my mind is always clouded with a faltering insight.
When I find, that I'm wrong, it's like life's a fucked up game and I have to play along.
And I have to play along.
My First Pet
It was as good as dead when I found it lying there in a driveway.
A car had crushed the rear half of its body but the poor little lizard was still alive.
I suppose if I'd came across it today I'd keep on walking, or finish the job.
That would have been the merciful thing to do.
I'd never had my own pet and, for some reason, I thought I could save it.
I scraped it off the pavement, put it in a bucket full of grass, and took it to school.
We had a few lizards for pets in my class, and I thought he would fit right in.
When I gave the bucket to my teacher she didn't say much.
She just took the bucket and said she would see what she could do.
She told me several hours later that my lizard was dead.
I cried as only a child cries.
At least I didn't name it.
About the author:
Bill Johnston is a twenty nine year old writer who splits his time between Minneapolis MN and Rapid City SD. He has been writing on and off since childhood, and, since suffering from schizophrenia in 2003, has found a new sense of purpose in his work.
© 2011 Word Riot