The world was against me. I could hear their voices. I couldn’t eat properly and sleep was a stranger. Tired. So tired. I wanted to sleep for a life...ime and leave all my troubles behind. My mother took me to her doctor. He referred me to a specialist. Mr. Specialist called it clinical depression. Up to today, I cannot understand why doctors prescribe all these huge tablets to someone who doesn’t want to live, and call it treatment. I just don’t get it. I called Marvin’s mom. She asked me to. Her other hand at his belt now, jerking, undoing. She felt his hardness pressed against her, he had caught up to her, lust guiding his hands. He glared at her as she held him away, her hand over his mouth, crushing, sinews standing out on her arm, distorting his features. He dropped his hand between her legs, finding her wetness, pushing his fingers into her, immediately finding the place inside that quickened her blood. She shifted her stance, allowing him in, her breath catching as he pressed. More

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