We went to Jacksonville Middle School, 8th grade. I am five foot nine, very muscular, and bisexual. I have brown hair, commonly mistaken for black, gr...en-blue eyes, and the identical skater-boy haircut. It was second period: Science. Tom was flirting harmlessly with his lab partner, Sharon, a pretty brunette with boobs the size of Jupiter. A lucky man, I thought. I would kill to be next to those boobs. Or, him. Ah, his luscious pectorals… taking off his shirt, and running my mouth down, down. ? The tone of her voice had changed as if she was on the verge of crying. She was shaking. ?Please!? I held up the Tickler's business end. ?This doesn't make pain go away...? She glanced at the instrument in my hand and held back a sob. ?Oh, I can handle that pain.? Her voice was steady and I believed her. ?But this...? She put her hands over her heart and started to cry. ?Cecil...? She looked back up at me. ?...he ripped it out. Make me forget.? She fell to her knees. ?Help me feel something. More

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