Last updated on April 6th, 2018 at 07:51 am
…She sat there in blatant darkness, still and unmoving, her thoughts doing all the shuffling. Any crafty animal perceiving her might foolishly think her insensible or to its peril, a statue. She didn’t have a cord yet and was gradually being moved towards the idea of using the pills instead. Pills…Cord…Pills…Cord… God! Either, she would use one, both, or run mad before she could. This was one of the few moments in her life when she actually felt pleased with NEPA; because she knew the black-out was as much responsible for her confidence as was the situation she found herself. Here she was, facing death armed with pills, confident and enveloped by darkness…she who had always dreamed of passing away gloriously in her bed. She would pass away on her bed no doubt; ingloriously though. Well, if she’d learned anything on her earthly sojourn, it was that dreams were futile, costly illusions and that nothing good really happened as planned.
She heard a sound just then and scrambled into action to prevent discovery or worse; interference. This was one deed she planned on seeing to the end. She hastily poured out all the pills, drank some water and in one swift gulp swallowed. And then, in that same moment, just before she blacked out…she saw how it all happened, again.
Dido was on a beach clad in a sexy, lemony bikini. She couldn’t help admiring herself in it as she moved sleekly towards the water. It appeared she was alone which was expected since it was just the early hours of dawn. She had come to watch the Sun rise and sneak a swim; naked before any one visited the popular beach. Just as she was about removing her excuse of a cloth, she saw the sexiest behind she’d ever seen in her existence. He was seated with his face to the rising sun; another nature lover she thought to herself. But, what held her gaze was the fact that he was totally naked. Truth be told, she would pay to watch him naked. He had the kind of body that did justice to nudity. Unconsciously, she approached him. Funny thing was, he seemed to get bigger as she neared him or maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks… or the Sun.
She felt excitement throbbing down below at her core as she imagined him doing things to her. Here was one stranger she would gladly have a one-morning-stand with. But she wished to see his face first. That could just be Mr. Perfect’s one flaw that would turn her off.
She was still debating whether he looked a bit greenish or maybe it was the poor lighting when he turned at the sound of her steps on the sand.
“Huh?” It barked. It, because this was no man she was seeing. It was a green monster.
At that precise moment, she had a vision of the beast of a man, straddling her, entering her… and for a person her size, she knew it inside her would only mean one thing, an anti-climactic death. She turned away from it and started running looking back over her shoulder to see it in pursuit. The chase was over in Bolt’s seconds. Luckily for her, she woke up just as it straddled her. And she woke up drenched. It had been a terrible, terrible wet dream. Getting up, she felt moisture between her thighs and dipped her hands to investigate. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated… it was the other thing. Ketch-up. The one reason she hated being female.
Dido was one of the lucky ones who had escaped being an albino by… yes, Bolt’s seconds. The result was a beautiful, gold-skinned girl with pearly-brown eyes that were hugely disconcerting. Her eyes did wonders whenever she settled them into a fixed stare. So many guys had fallen for those eyes never to rise again. Though she was never short of admirers, she’d no boyfriend and liked it that way. A relationship was excess baggage she didn’t need.
She’d heard a few of the rumours in circulation about her. She knew some thought her to be homosexual while most believed her to be the model hardcore SU; spiritually ultra. None were close to the truth and the real truth no one knew was that she hated being female most of the time. And it was all because of ketch-up, life had been simpler before ketch-up. At least then, she’d been as good a boy as any.
Her thoughts drifted back to the first day of ketch-up and she winced involuntarily. It had been a glorious morning for her that day. She’d woken on top of the world, sang as she bathed, used an extra amount of time primping and creaming her skin. Put on the finest, whitest and cleanest of her undies, and ironed her white school uniform until all the right creases were in place. On the assembly ground, when she’d finally been called out from the rest with a few others, Dido remembered feeling too good with herself. The selected few stood in a single horizontal file with their backs to the teeming crowd of students and teachers alike.
She still remembered sneaking a glance back to check out the multi-coloured faces of her fellow students. High above the ground level where they were, it had been quite easy for her to read the expressions on their faces. Awe, envy, indifference etc. were displayed in their respective colours. Not that she’d cared much for their feelings; she’d only looked back at them out of curiousity. In spite of the multi-racial mélange of students that had been available at her school then, she had been close to none. The girls had been too loose-mouthed for her liking while the boys all seemed to have been plagued with a similar familiar disease; excess testosterone.
She remembered trembling in anticipation as she waited to receive the badge which would symbolize her designation as the school’s head-girl. She would be above all the other girl prefects, and no girl’s equal in her school. Everything was going well until the only Japanese boy in her school started singing something which sounded like an anthem in the crowd behind her. Dido heard chuckles, snickers, gasps and all sorts of strange sounds emanate from the crowd of students and teachers behind her. Although she hadn’t been immediately aware then, a cute Japanese flag had been manufactured at the lower back of her school uniform. By the time she realized, the news coupled with the view had hit platinum. Disoriented and on the verge of delirium, she’d rushed out from the assembly ground without receiving her badge. The incident earned her the moniker ‘Japanese head-girl’ the rest of her school year.
As if the day couldn’t get any worse, she’d been hit smack in the face by the flying spittle of the conductor of a moving Molue on her way home that evening. She’d felt it was either God was taking out some sort of vengeance on her for some forgotten slight or the Devil had staged a coup and seized power.
Her thoughts drifted to another time three years later when ketch-up had paid her an impromptu visit. She had been walking home alone as was usual when she sighted her neighbor-hood crush from afar. He had been in the company of five of his friends and they were standing around the narrow bypass she preferred using to avoid people. Turning back had been out of question because she’d felt all twelve eyes on her the instant she’d appeared. Though shaken inside but not wanting to appear timid, she’d continued walking towards the pass and them. Even without looking up, she’d literally felt their eyes ripping open her clothes, looking at her naked body and…
Ironically and quite unfortunately for her, some distance away from the guys even though she’d been looking down, she hadn’t noticed the stone until it had tripped her and gravity had summoned her obeisance. Lying prostrate on the floor, clothed in dust and bruises, the pain she’d felt had been more emotional than physical and she recollected wishing to evaporate that instant. But wishes had been horses even then. She had felt a mixture of relief/embarrassment/delight when her crush came over dusted her and for the first time spoke to her.
“Are you alright? Hope you’re not in any serious pain?” He had said.
“I’m… I’m… fine. Thank you”
“You’re bleeding” He’d continued.
“Yeah. It’s… it’s just an… err… minor…scrapes”. She remembered saying. Blushing as hell inside, she’d turned to leave.
“You’re bleeding…” He’d persisted.
“There”. He had said pointing to her bottom.
Enter ketch-up. Why? She’d thought. Why? And then her ruminations gave way to mortification and then rage. Couldn’t this dumb-head of a boy have told her in other less discreet ways than pointing it out for the world to see? She recalled looking at him then thinking how unattractive he suddenly appeared to her. That was the end of her short affair with him all courtesy of ketch-up and the boy’s obvious stupidity.