Humanity.

I met him at his house, the same one where I realized he wanted more
from me. I rang the doorbell once and waited. Again and then again. I
sat down on the front porch, realizing what I wanted more than
anything was for him to not be there. That's the thing with him, he
belongs in this forbidden part of my life, the one which my curiosity
tempts me to dip into whenever enough time has passed to dull the pain
he caused before. My nails were painted, my legs were shaved, my dress
was short. I wanted him and I couldn't figure out why. I didn't need
him. But he answered the door. The game had begun. His shirt was
misplaced, on purpose I'm sure.

I played along, ignoring the flesh he was pathetically flaunting. I
think that's what he likes, that I'm unphased, unresponsive. I sat
entrenched in the corner of the massive leather couch, crossed my legs
as he hunted for a shirt. He reappeared, approaching me slowly. He
took a seat beside me. I pretended to study the pictures on the walls,
the same I had pretended to immerse myself in many times before. Not
much had changed in six months. He turned to me, "am I as cute as you
remember?" he taunted. I wasn't sure.

"Of course", I carefully replied.
"Well you look good", the words playing off his lips as he leaned in
to kiss me. I turned my head abruptly as he caught my cheek.

He suggested that we get moving. I wasn't sure where we were going. I
could have asked, but he wouldn't have told me the truth. I guess
that's part of the fun too. I slid into the sleek car, secretly
wondering if it might be stolen. I sank into the leather and reclined
the seat. He climbed in beside me and slipped his hand on my thigh.
Slowly inching it upwards, beneath the hem of my dress. I laughed
coyly, and removed his hand placing it instead on the safety of my
knee.

We drove for an hour at least, utilizing highways I have never heard
of. He kept assuring it me it was not much further, that we just
needed to pick someone up. Little thoughts of horror skipped through
my mind. I wondered if I might die, how he might kill me, what he
might use, if he would get me drunk first, where he would dump my
body. You know, normal things. We took an exit ramp into a little
town whose name I didn't recognize. He pulled into the parking lot of
a large apartment complex. Once inside the building, we climbed
several flights of stairs. The elevator was out of service. I kept
thinking, maybe he'll just push me down the stairs.

He pulled open the door of the sixth floor. We stepped into a poorly
lit corridor that smelled of cats and bleach. We took a left, passing
many shut doors. He stopped me suddenly and pressed me against the
wall. He looked into my eyes. I met his sad gaze because I didn't know
what else to do.

"I sometimes wonder if it could have been different, if we could have
made it work".

I knew exactly what he was talking about.
Angry at the ambush, "Not here, not like this", I muttered.
"Do you ever wonder what he would have looked like? He would have been
beautiful."
Sadness leaking out with those last words.

I thought about what he said momentarily.

"No".

I pushed him away, walking towards the end of the hallway.