The Minx

I feel hands on my skin again. The fear grabs a hold of me, and I almost scream… “It’s just me baby,” he says. The muscles in my body loosen, and I know what’s about to come. I stifle a moan of mixed pain and pleasure as he pushes his sex past the rings of muscle and deep to the centre of me.

I look at the clock. “It’s one in the morning. Couldn’t this have waited?” He bullshits a story about how he was watching me sleeping, and couldn’t wait any longer. Then he eases out a bit. I stifle a moan. “But what if your parents hear us?”

His beautiful hazel eyes gaze into mine. “Let them hear. I don’t care.” I just look at him. He pushes back in; there is no quieting me now. I moan. He smiles. I open myself wider, and give him access to the deepest parts of me. “You little minx.”

My eyes fly open. My breath hitches, and I push into his next motion. We slam together. His pelvis rams into my body and I scream loud. My whole body shutters, and his inevitable eviction from my warmth has arrived. He pouts, and kisses my cheek.

“What was that for?” he asks, slowly caressing my nipple. He nibbles and licks my neck lustfully. “Hmm? What did I do to you?”

“Am I really a minx?” I bite his nipple playfully, and trail kisses down his abdomen. My hands slowly bring his member back to a fully aroused state. “I would prefer something that didn’t imply that I was a slut, but I suppose minx is fine.” I sigh in ecstasy as he enters me once more.

“Oh. The minx likes that?” His motions quicken. He brings me to a fully aroused state. He kisses me passionately.

Then rolls onto his side of the bed.

My eyes fly open. “What… the hell… are you doing?” I seethe. “You can’t do that to me. Again. You did this last night. I can’t handle this shit.”

And yet he sleeps quietly next to me. Darkness wraps me in her silk sheets, and binds me down. I never was good at the sleep part of life. Insomnia is my closest friend in the wee hours of the night, and I usually find myself with a deep lack of sleep. Being hopped up on caffeinated beverages is my remedy.

Tonight I realize just how alone I feel lying next to the one who should fulfill me. So I quietly leave the bed. I pack my belongings quietly, kiss you lightly on the forehead, and steal away into the night.

Do you realize how much I truly cared for you while all I got was lukewarm feelings reciprocated? I wonder as I walk into the hellish night that has become my true existence.

____________

I wrote this one for a friend.

The Rut

I'm back to where I started again. I wonder if this cycle will ever end. No matter how much I change everything seems to stay the same. I suppose that can be a good thing, but I'm just tired of living the same day over and over again. No day has any significant value, no wonderful memory that I'm going to reflect on five years from now; I don't even have anything to write about anymore, I've already written about every aspect of this infinitely repetitive day and all 3 emotions that I feel during it. I need a change. I need to live again. Am I really as trapped as I feel? Change can't really be that hard. But I moved to a completely different state hoping for change, but the only thing that changed was my environment; it was the same shit, just a different place. This rut is not environmental; it's myself that needs to change.......

An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn't certain of which direction to go, and he'd forgotten both where he was traveling to and who he was. He'd sat down a moment to rest his weary legs, and suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. She grinned toothlessly and with a cackle, spoke:

"Now for your *third* wish, what will it be?"

"Third wish?" The man was baffled

"How can it be a third wish if I haven't had a first and second wish?"

"You've had two wishes already," the hag said

"but your second wish was for me to return everything to the way it was before you had made your first wish. That's why you remember nothing; because everything is the way it was before you made any wishes." She cackled at the poor man, "so it is that you have one with left."

"All right," said the man "I don't believe this; but there's no harm in wishing. I wish to know who I am"

"Funny," said the old woman as she granted his wish and disapeared forever,

"That was your first wish."

- Planescape Torment

Dementia

During night time, you sleep and leave the world of disarray and madness for the dim lit world of mundane abandoned fantasies. Your body makes unconscious movements while you walk the world of reveries and illusions.


As for me, while the entire world is sleeping, I wait for my love. And together we’ll roam the vast night sky.


It might be the lonely game I play - the quest for blood or the sensation of my body splitting into two or the dizzy feeling I get in the first few hours of the day.


Here I go again…

Here comes the pain that is slicing through my throat and the blood that is beginning to gush. My eyes started to embrace the color of the night. Tongues of fire with temperature unknown to human measures began to lash my skin. Pins started prickling through each part of my belly as if slicing it.


1....






2....






3....






And so the world slept and I conquered the world.


While the world was dreaming, I was on top of them all and I proclaimed, “Tonight my love, I offered you the world.”


The next morning, I woke up with my belly raging up with pangs of agony and pain. My throat feels rough and scarred and my tongue is all dried up. Every tinge of pain my body receives brings about bittersweet sensations that linger until the daylight fades again into the darkness that splits me into two.


Beside me lies a limb of an unknown creature with organs forcefully scathed out of its torn skin. The stench of this corpse irritated my nose extremely that I vomited a few paws and fingers. And so I rushed to the toilet with the feeling of regurgitation of the contents of my stomach and I give my best shot to dispose of it all. I cleansed my hands that were stained down to every bit of nail by crimson sticky solution.


My body is filled with a familiar scarlet substance, sticking its every entity with my skin. My stomach hurts like hell and I want to lie in bed for a few hundred hours. I was painfully exhausted.

For many centuries, I walked the world waiting for my love to come. All that came to me was things that guises as my love.


I conquered the world each night and offered to him the world.


And they said you had risen, while I was dreaming.


But then, I was, above all things, satisfied.

Sa Eskinita

...A few moments passed. The boy’s back was lightly scratched by the coarse brick, and his body grazed with sweat. He cringed feeling that enveloping heat that poured over him each time the man’s tongue passed over his sac. I can’t take anymore of this, the boy thought, frantically. He gasped, and cried out, his fingertips becoming red from the pressure against the wall. This is it!

The man directed his sight up, towards the boy’s face. The boy’s expression was so enticing, the man couldn’t help but grin once more. The boy was the image of innocents lost. His face was red, his eyes clenched shut, his mouth agape sending out strange and arousing sounds of pleasure. He came, loudly, as the man traced his tongue up his swollen shaft once again.

A long, thick stream of milky white erupted from the boy’s long taunted erection. He cried out, his body convulsing as his orgasm swarmed him. The man, quickly brought a hand to the boy’s pulsing appendage, and pumped his hands, in an attempt to all of the boy’s seed out. This only made the boy squirm and cry more, as his now sensitive and delicate member was being handled so blatantly.

The white cream went all over the ally-floor, and the man’s shoulder. He pouted, though barely noticeable. He took his shirt off, and set it on the ground, then stood up. The man was about six-foot, much taller than the boy. The kid couldn’t look him in the eye, and threw his head to the side, gasping and panting as he did (his orgasm was much stronger than he’d thought). His legs were shaky, and his body so frail. Why cant this all just go away, he demanded in his head.

A strong hand gripped the boy’s dimpled chin, and forced it to look center. The boy’s eyes were narrowed, filled with childish forlorn anger. As menacing as Satan himself, the man grinned. “The fun’s only just begun.” He said. The boy could see the man’s eyes now. They were a dark, hazy green which set off his dark five-o’clock shadow and his long brown hair.

The boy cringed, as he felt the man’s hand grip his chin a bit harder. The boy brought his hands up again, and tried to force the man back. Again, to no avail. The harder he pressed, the more evil the man seemed. The boy’s hands wandered up and around the man’s body, trying to find a weak point...there were none. Only ripped, bulging muscles were found. The boy was a tad aroused by the feel of it. His face fell docile, and quizzical. But, he then quickly remembered that this person had just defiled him in such an unspeakable way.

He threw his head to the other side, bringing his hands to his meek chest, and his head flooded with hate again. The man chuckled...he’d noticed the boy’s intrigue in his body, and now wouldn’t accept “no” as answer. He quickly grabbed the boy’s undone pants, and drew them all the way down, briefs and all. The boy was caught off guard, and gasped. The man turned him around, and forced him up against the wall. The boy had to struggle to get his hands in front of him, in order to stop his face from being too badly cut by the rough, unforgiving brick.

The boy groaned with anger again, grunting, now tears flowing to his eyes again as his phallic, still very tender, tapped the cold rigid brick. The grinned, as he slipped his index finger into his mouth. As he lubricated it, he let out a moan...a hot, long, deviant moan. The boy blushed, his tears still slowly flowing. The man slipped the digit out of his mouth. He quickly brought down to the boy’s other entry.

He teased the outer ring of muscle there, making the boy cry out in pain and pleasure. “No....please.” he whispered. The man just grinned again. After a moment more of teasing, the man slowly slid his finger into him. Deeper and deeper. The boy let out a long, light moan, and gasped. The boy’s body arched into the man’s finger, unconsciously wanting him to go in deeper. The man could feel his erection growing, wanting to “slay” an innocent thing.

The Officer

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Master and Slave: The Last Chapter

“I’m sorry Master,” The bound boy whimpered. “I’m sorry. I told him that you- you are my Master and I can’t-”

A large hand struck him across the cheek. “Silence!” His Master snapped.

The man reached down and jerked the vibrator roughly out of his small hole, making the boy whimper with pain and need. He shut it off and cast it down to be forgotten on the floor. The boy squirmed awkwardly under those scowling eyes.
“You will have to be punished,” The older male of the two said. He nodded weakly.

“Yes Master.”

The silk cloths that bound his feet to the bed were undone, then the ones at his hands.

“Roll over,” His master ordered harshly.

The boy did as told, rolling onto his stomach. His arms were jerked roughly behind his back and tied there at the wrists.
“Up!” He was ordered.

The boy struggled to his feet but he wasn’t fast enough for the man. He was dragged up by the wrists and thrown down to the floor.
“On your knees.”

The boy got on his knees, his back straight, until his head was forced down roughly. His master ground his face roughly into the floor and then slapped his rear.

“You will stay like this,” He snarled. “Until I tell you that you are done. You will thank me for every blow. If you hesitate, or don’t say it, that’s ten more. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master,” The boy whispered.

There was a pause, then “What is your safe word, slut?”
“Yellow, Master,” He whispered in answer. The safe word. He’d never had to use it before. Would tonight be the night that Master Lex went too far? As much as he enjoyed the pain mixed with pleasure he was given, he did have his limits. His master would keep those in mind tonight. Right?

He was frightened. His master was angry at him, very angry. And kneeling like he was, his rear raised high and his head pressed against the ground, he was vulnerable.

He could hear the man’s boots click over to the cabinet again. He was getting something to beat him with. Suddenly a sharp blow landed on his rear. It was the cane. His master was using the cane on him, despite how much he knew the youth feared it. Or maybe that was why he chose it.

“Thank you Master,” The boy whispered. Another blow, and again he thanked the man for hurting him.

The cane left harsh red marks on the soft, youthful skin of his rear. Tears began to fall down the teen’s cheeks.

“Thank you Master,” He whispered. “Thank you Master.”

Pain seared through his small body, burning through his nerves. With it came the most bitter pleasure he had ever known. His body sang as he wept.

“Thank you Master,” He said.

Then the blows stopped, and all was still. He started to raise his head but was struck in the back of the head.

“Thank you Master,” The boy mumbled as he became still again.
“I told you not to move, slut,” The man sneered. “You can’t have forgotten already.”

“No Master.”

He was still for what felt like forever. Then, suddenly and without warning his master’s length slammed into his rear without preparation or even lube. A cry of pain escaped his lips and the tears fell faster down his cheeks. The friction was rough and painful, his master gave him no time to prepare or adjust.
“Thank me!” The man snarled as he thrust into the boy again, his hard length delivering sharp blows to the boy’s prostate.
“Thank you Master,” He whimpered with each torturous thrust.
Every movement that Master made send hot tendrils of pain through his body. His rear stung from the vicious use of the cane and already it was aching from the deep, rough thrusts. Large hands gripped at his bound wrists, jerking them for support until the boy’s shoulders hurt. His fragile body shook with every savage movement of their hips, driving his face harder against the floor.
“Thank you Master,” The slave whispered. “Thank you Master.”
Their hips met over and over again as his tight ass was violated violently by the much larger male. His master thrust into him what seemed like a thousand times, making the boy thank him after each. The tears were pooling around his face on the floor, his eyes red and puffy, and his voice hoarse. There were bruises on his wrists and the round cheeks of his beaten rear.

At least his master seemed to be enjoying himself, moaning at the tightness, the friction. He was nearing his climax. Then, just before he came, he hit the boy hard in the back of the head. The boy’s rear tightened around him and he released deep inside his slave, listening to the muffled “Thank you Master.”

Lex pulled out of Tristan’s limp body. His slave had passed out from the pain. Gently he untied the youth’s hands. He rolled over the small boy and looked down at the tear stained face. Softly Lex kissed his lover’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered softly.

Strong arms picked up the teenaged boy and carried him to the bed. With all the care and gentleness of a mother cat cleaning one of her kittens he wiped the tears from Tristan’s face, then climbed into bed with him.

Lex cradled his young lover all night.

Master & Slave

He knelt on the floor, naked, his gaze downcast. The flogger ran over his back, tracing down his spine. The boy shuddered slightly and stared hard at his hands, palms up on his knees. His master’s heels clicked on the cool hard wood floors as he walked around him in a slow circle.

“You’ve been a bad boy,” The man purred. The flogger struck his back suddenly, leaving bright red marks on his pale skin. “You must be punished.”

“Yes master,” He whispered softly.

The cool leather strips of the flogger pressed against his face as his master returned to his front.

“Kiss your tormenter, slut,” He growled.

The boy did as he was told and kissed the flogger softly on one of the strips that pressed closest to his face. It was pulled away sharply and struck him across the face. Tears of pain formed in his eyes as red stripes formed on his cheek.

“How many lashes shall it be this time?” His master asked.

“As many as you deem fit, master,” The slave whispered softly. He had learned never to suggest something. His master would either find it too high or too low, and either way he’d be in more pain then he planned by the end of the night.

“I think twenty is a fit number,” The man said after thinking it over.

“Yes master,” He whispered.

“On your hands and knees,” His master snapped and the boy obeyed.
He got on his hands and knees, his legs spread as he’d been taught so that his master could see his sex dangling between his legs. The man smiled and stood above him. Without warning the flogger struck his round rear. His small body jerked slightly as he was struck a second time. The boy bit his lip as he felt pain shooting through him with each blow. He was struck on his rear and the backs and insides of his thighs. A welt began to bleed and his master smiled. He smeared the blood over the soft skin with his thumb as he rubbed the boy’s reddened ass.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispered. “Have I told you that?”

“Yes master,” The slave said quietly. His master laughed.

“You are a smart one.” He studied the boy and noticed that he had grown quite hard. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you, you little slut.” The man smacked the boy’s ass softly.

He let out a small moan of pain.

“Answer me, slave,” His master growled. “You must have enjoyed that.” The flogger moved down between his legs and rubbed against his swollen sex.

He bit his lip. “Yes master,” He breathed. “Yes.”

Suddenly the boy let out a cry of pain as the flogger snapped and struck his length. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered softly.
“You slut,” His master growled. “You dirty little whore.” He dragged the boy up by his collar and pulled him into a deep kiss. His rough tongue forced its way into the youth’s mouth, invading it.

The man pushed his slave down onto the bed as they kissed. The flogger fell forgotten to the floor. He kept their lips connected as he raised the teen’s arms and tied his wrists to the headboard with silk cloths. Then, finally, he pulled his mouth away. The slave leaned up, trying to reach him, and his master laughed softly.

“So eager, my little pet. Patience.” He pressed a finger to the boy’s lips then moved down. He tied each leg to a bed post and then looked down at the youth.

The boy watched his master as he reached over the edge of the bed for something. It was long and plastic. He gasped softly as it began to buzz. A vibrator. His master rubbed it against his hard cock.

“Do you like that?” He asked. Before he could answer the vibrator was already being pushed in his small entrance.

“Yes master,” The boy managed to whisper. It felt so good, rubbing against his inside walls. His master held the remote and he watched as the man pushed it up so that it went faster, rubbing against his pleasure spot.

“Mmm… My little slut…” The man purred. He stopped as his cell phone rang in the next room. The remote was set down on the bed beside the boy. “I’ll be right back. Be a good boy.”
No. He couldn’t be leaving, not right now!

“Master! Please, don’t leave me here, Master,” The boy begged but his master was already gone.

Nothing to do but wait.

He lay there for what felt like forever, the vibrator still running deep inside him. Softly he began to moan, squirming in an attempt to bring a little pleasure to his aching length. But it didn’t work. He couldn’t reach it at all.


to be continued....

the boy

He’s a year younger than you and he’s your

brother’s best friend, I admonished myself. But I couldn’t seem to help where my thoughts were going. Robbie, my younger brother’s best friend, had caught my eye, and I couldn’t get him out of my head. He was shorter than me by about six inches. He had thick, unruly black hair and crooked teeth. But his eyes, well, they were the deepest brown I have ever seen, almost black and he had inherited her wonderful morena skin of her mother. And he wore that skin beautifully!

He had the most amazing muscle tone for a sixteen-year-old I had ever seen. His muscles weren’t huge, or even large, but each one was perfectly shaped and moved beneath his skin in a way that tantalized me. And lately, I was seeing a lot of him. He had joined my family on our annual summer camping trip. He typically wore nothing but swimming trunks or cut-off jeans. And, of course, everywhere I went during that summer trip, there he was, smiling at me. Robbie, three of my four brothers and I were all sleeping in the same tent. Somehow, Robbie had managed to stake out space in the tent right next to my own space. So, even though I was trying very hard not to think about him, not to think about what I wanted to be doing with him, it was really a lost cause from the start.

On the fourth night of our camping trip, I was so full of heat and yearning for Robbie I couldn’t stand it. I had been grouchy all day, with everyone, even my parents. I wasn’t enjoying the trip any more. I didn’t even bother to go swimming in the beach with everyone else earlier that afternoon. Finally, during dinner, as the family sat around the picnic table eating grilled bangus (milkfish) and laughing about the day’s antics, my parents had had enough of my surly mood and ordered me to bed.

I headed for the tent, angering my parents even more by muttering under my breath as I went. I threw myself down on my sleeping bag and glared at the tent’s ceiling, daring it so much as to move in the breeze. To my surprise, I fell asleep rather quickly. I suppose I hadn’t been sleeping much, really, with Robbie lying next to me in nothing but shorts every night.

Some time later, I woke up when I heard an odd sound from next to me. Everyone else had apparently managed to get into the tent and get settled without waking me, because I could see the dark shapes that would be my brothers on one side of the tent. Next to me, close enough to reach out and touch, Robbie lay on his back, softly snoring. At that moment, the moon began to shine through the mosquito net window on our side of the tent. It was by that moon’s gentle glow that I realized what the sound I had heard was.

Robbie had worn a very short, very tight pair of cut-off jeans that day. As he lay there, now, on his back, I could see that he had unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts. And I could see, quite clearly, what those shorts of his had been hinting at and teasing me with all day. My heart started racing, my breathing so fast and shallow I thought I might pass out. What was I supposed to do? How I was supposed to behave myself, with Robbie lying there, sleeping, next to me, fully exposed?

Those are, perhaps, the thoughts I should have been having. Instead, I reached over and placed my hand on Robbie’s taut, lean tummy. He made a quick gasp, and his own breathing seemed to speed up, as well. Still, he continued to appear to be sleeping. Slowly, I let my hand drift downward along his tummy. After what seemed like hours, but was surely barely minutes, my hand was below the open waistband of his shorts, resting in the soft black nest below his navel. Again, he gasped. And still his soft snore continued.

However, his manhood, which had been resting limply just under the open zipper of his shorts, suddenly jerked and sprang out of the opening, fully erect. I panicked and pulled my hand away. By this point, I was so wired, I could feel my stomach cramping and my nuts had begun to hurt, as if someone had kicked me. I lay there on my back, trying to slow my breathing, but my eyes kept drifting to Robbie. I had a moment of sickening dizziness, and then the next thing I knew, I was taking Robbie’s manhood into my mouth.

I don’t even remember, now, the way that felt. I don’t recall what he tasted like, or how long it took him to fill my mouth with the proof of his orgasm. I only remembering realizing that it was over and then running off into the trees near our campsite to throw up. I also remember that Robbie never seemed to wake up through it all. However, when I came back into the tent a short while later, I noticed that he had rolled onto his side, facing me, and that his shorts had been zipped back up and fastened again.

I lay there, feeling sick and scared, afraid I had done something nasty and wrong. It wasn’t just that I felt wrong for taking another guy into my mouth like that. I already knew what a fag was and how people felt about that sort of thing. I felt nasty and dirty for doing it to a guy who, as far as I knew, was sound asleep. In fact, I was utterly terrified. I was afraid that one of my brothers might have seen and would tell on me. I was afraid Robbie would tell on me the next morning. How could he not have noticed I was sucking on him like that?

I threw up twice more that night. I never slept. I just lay there, the cold weight of my terror crushing down on me, trying to squeeze the breath right out of me. And then the sunlight replaced the moonlight, and my father was outside the tent ordering everyone to breakfast. Since I was already awake, I was first out of the tent, even though the last thing in the world I wanted at that moment, was to be near my parents, or near anyone else for that matter.

I took my place at the table just the same, though. I ignored my mother when she commented that a night’s sleep hadn’t seemed to improve my mood any. A few minutes later, my brothers and Robbie ambled sleepily out of the tent. Although he normally sat next to my brother, that morning, Robbie slipped onto the bench of the picnic table next to me. Without ever looking at me, he slid toward me until our bottoms were touching. Then he threw his naked leg over mine, and leaned toward me. He whispered into my ear, “Tonight, it’s my turn.”

____________

Working Out

He grinned as he felt the other male rub shower gel onto his back, any excuse to touch each other more. As the water ran down over his skin he felt the other guy move closer, feeling his exposed cock push against his ass. As the two enjoyed the moment, they became more and more aroused, soon both were hard and engaged in a kiss. Time went on and they looked at each other knowing they had better head off home to their girlfriends, so they grabbed their towels and wrapped themselves and headed round to the lockers. After getting dry and dressed, they said their goodbyes and one left leaving the other to finish getting changed. As he pulled on his shirt, he cringed slightly still feeling slightly damp on his back his shirt clung to him. Standing in his open shirt, socks and skin-tight boxers, he heard a shuffle behind the lockers, not realising anyone else was in the changing rooms he walked round the corner to inspect. As he rounded the corner he was slammed backward against the cold metal lockers, his arms forced up beside his head, held at each wrist.

“So you like a bit of guy on guy huh?” He was asked, but before he had time to answer or even realise what was happening, the blonde stranger planted a powerful kiss on his lips. Watching as this new guy forced kisses upon him, he looked him over, and standing in just a towel, he decided he wasn’t complaining, so closed his eyes and returned the kiss. During this, his arms were released and his shirt was soon lying on the floor once more. Their hands all over each other, it wasn’t long before once again there was two hard cock’s in the room. More fondling led to both men ending up wearing very little (not that there was much in the first place)… the towel was soon torn from the newcomer showing off how well endowed he was, and the white, tight boxers on the other man would soon be pointless as they led their games towards the showers. The switch was hit and the water was running, over their firm bodies it ran and once the white material was soaked, it wasn’t long before his hard dick was visible through his shorts. On the floor, the completely naked guy grabbed the others’ shoulders and forced him down.

“Suck it!” He ordered, and was contempt as straight away he received the oral pleasure he wanted. Mouthful after mouthful he tensed in bliss until soon enough he was almost ready to burst. This time, he wrapped his fingers under his partners chin and brought him back up, kissing him again as he manoeuvred their bodies, so he was soon on top, straddling the other at the waist. Taking hold of his own penis he began to masturbate, already he could feel the tension building inside, and soon enough he covered his friend in patches of cum. Breathing deep trying to catch his breath as the water poured down over them he sat backwards, feeling the bulge of the other cock press against his naked butt. Grinning he began to move as if riding an animal, whilst his intentions were to masturbate the other guy between his ass cheeks. Soon enough, the boxers had been taken off and they had positioned so he was now really being buggered. As he rode the cock, both men groaned in pleasure, and as the pace quickened their moaning became louder. They finished just in time as another gym member came in for his shower. The two showered, dried and as they were getting changed exchanged a few words before leaving.

“Next week, tell your friend to hang around for a while, more’s always fun!”



________

Note:



Well, Ive been hearing countless stories about Gym "routine"

So I think you guys cant relate to this one. lolz!

Revenue Martyrs

You cough as you try to remember what exactly happened. It was dark, there was but one sound drowning out your screams. You couldn't see. You couldn't hear. All you could feel was coldness, and the smell of sewage. Where are you now?

Your clothes are starting to dry, and the smell is starting to make you sick as the sweat pours off your bruised and broken body. You fight to keep the tears down; your breaths are shallow, as you engage the pain of your fractured ribs. You struggle with every ounce of strength you have to roll yourself over onto your back, shielding your eyes from the sun that seems to be focused on you alone. You look around with a sore neck, a heavy body, and what you see makes you wish you were back in your house.

Few shingles remain on the roof around you, and scattered with holes leading back down into the abyss. You hear the familiar sound of a crying boy. You see him next to you scared, shaking, and hurt.

You crawl your way to the edge of the roof, the tears of pain streaming down your face. You reach the edge and look into the sludge all around you, and stare into a reflection that looks absolutely nothing like you remembered. You’re thirsty, you’re hungry, and you can feel the sunburn already.

How many days have you been here? Your man is dying in your arms. You’ve become accustomed to the bodies that float by, peeking at each one to see if it’s a friend, a neighbor; a relative. Your skin is blistered from the sun, you can no longer cry, you’re body is so dehydrated nothing comes from your eyes. And ever part of you is on fire with pain, the smell around you would make you throw up if you weren’t already too week. A raspy curse pushes itself out of your dry throat, to that asshole that refused to make room to take you and your man somewhere safe. Your car was in the shop, there was nothing you could do.

Suddenly you hear a familiar sound, you begin to feel a breeze falling on your face. You look up at the helicopter hovering above you. Salvation, you weep in happiness, you’d been found, you’re alive, rescue, release, safety.

You squint your eyes and barely make out “MBC" scrawled along the side of it. Smile, you’re on world-wide television. Rest assured that millions are reclining in their comfortable chairs, sipping a beer in their air-conditioned homes, and thinking “wow, sucks to be them”. You are a proud ratings-booster, a revenue generating martyr. You begin to see the helicopter turning around, moving to the next town, leaving you, and all that’s left of your family, to die on that roof, joining the corpses that will be counted whenever anyone gets around to it.