It was a fragrance she knew well. “Oh Christ… No… Not here…. Not now… Not him”, were her thoughts as time once again began to tick in her...head. The once white clean room was red with blood. Stumbling to her feet like a person in a windstorm her body was streaked with blood, her prized whit linen lay nearby ripped and red. Blood covered and nude, slipping on the wet floor, a hurricane in her head Bess staggered to the door mumbling, “Jimmy? Please, Jimmy. Help.” Then swallowing hard, supporting. She choose this particular dress as she got ready for school this morning with the idea that it was easy to get in and out of and easy for Ron to get his hands inside of. He could reach all those places she had found so terribly exciting last night without having to remove her clothing unless she wanted to. She was still hesitant to admit out loud that she wanted him to make a move on her. On the other hand, once he got started, she did not want to be wearing something difficult to get out of. More

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