The Murderer Who Wasn't a Monster

Ch 8

The only reason I'm alive today is because I agreed with Diana's father that I'd date this slim thick whore and pretend I cheated on Diana. She had a pretty name- Angel- one that I don't care to remember.

She jiggled like an idiot when we'd get naked with each other.

"Dance with me, Darryl," she suggested, throwing herself at me, touching my head all over.

I'm not good at pretending, but I at least tried.

"Are you still thinking about that stupid skinny, small breasted bitch?"

I was, and she had a name- Diana Rose. And she was far from a bitch. But I couldn't vocalize that. I never could if I wanted to stay alive for Diana. I never gave up hope that she'd come back to me when I made things right again.

"You know I'm better. Bigger tits, bigger ass. I'm everything you want."

Why women think this is what men like me want appalls me. It just makes me disrespect them more. This haughty attitude was what turned me away from her.

I just kept thinking of all the times Diana would laugh and smile as a kid and as a young teen. How she was always happy with me, even when we were undressed together. She felt safe, and that was all I wanted her to feel with me.

I smiled then in those moments of being with Angel but it was misplaced. I always did in dedication to the memory of Diana and who she always will be to me.

My love.