Warning!!! Read responsibly and not for fun!
A year has passed and I have moved into another class, class 8, my mind have become calm and happiness have dominated, until a day at school.
As I walked through the school corridors, whispers of a transfer student spread like wildfire. Rumors swirled about junior high class 9, but I focused on my studies.
That afternoon, I sought refuge in the school library, surrounded by dusty tomes and quiet contemplation. A year had passed since that fateful night with Dorris, and I'd pushed those memories to the back of my mind.
Suddenly, soft whispers echoed from the library's corner: "Mmmm... ah... ah." The librarian's firm voice interrupted, "Read and return to your classes!" As she exited, the whispers resumed.
Curiosity got the better of me. I walked quietly toward the source, my heart racing. Peeking around the shelves, I froze.
Before me lay a scene that would shatter my tranquility. Two girls, entwined in passion, their bodies surrendering to desire.
One girl knelt, her face buried between the other's legs. Soft moans filled the air as she pleasured her partner. The girl's hands guided her, urging her deeper.
"My god, you're so good," one whispered.
"I know, right?" the other replied, her voice husky. "You taste amazing."
Their movements grew more intense. They switched positions, their bodies entwined. One girl's fingers explored the other's depths, eliciting gasps of pleasure.
"So horny... huh... bitch," one whispered.
"Finger me fast," the other replied.
Their kiss deepened, hands roaming freely. I stood transfixed, unable to look away.
But as I watched, memories of Dorris flooded back. The same sensations, the same desires.
Lust.
The girls' passion was palpable, and I felt my own desires stirring.
Suddenly, the girl's eyes met mine, and our gazes locked. A spark of recognition flared.
She was the transfer student.
My heart raced as our eyes held. I felt exposed, yet intrigued.
"Is there anyone here?" she whispered.
I froze, torn between curiosity and caution. But realizing that she didn't see me, I asked myself some questions; was that Dorris White? Is she the transfer brilliant student everyone was talking about? Did she bring this monster to this school already?
As I peeked around the shelf, my heart racing, the girls' passion intensified. Their bodies entwined, hands exploring, lips locked. My own desires stirred, the beast within me awakening.
Their whispers grew louder, and I felt my face flush. The girl's eyes met mine again, and she smiled slyly, this time she saw me.
"Join us," she mouthed, her voice barely audible.
My curiosity got the better of me, but my locker key slipped from my fingers, clattering on the floor.
The girls froze, eyes snapping toward me. I swiftly picked up my key and fled.
But in my haste, my name tag fell, fluttering to the ground.
One of the girls picked it up, her eyes scanning the tag.
"Gladys Williams," she whispered.
My heart sank, and I halted my steps, and turned and it was indeed her.
Dorris White.
The transfer student.
She slid my name tag into her uniform pocket, a sly smile spreading across her face.
"Don't worry," she whispered to her partner, "I'll take care of this."
Dorris's eyes never left mine as she kissed her partner once more.
"I have my ways of catching voyeurs," she whispered, her voice dripping with menace.
My heart racing, I fled the library, the scene replaying in my mind.
I burst into the hallway, adjusting my clothes with shaking hands, desperate to erase any signs of my hasty exit. The library encounter replayed in my mind like a broken record.
As I entered the classroom, the chatter ceased, and my classmates turned toward me. I took my seat, trying to compose myself.
"Good morning, class," our mathematics teacher, Mrs. Johnson, greeted, oblivious to my turmoil.
We stood, exchanged greetings, and sat down, retrieving our books from our bags. But my mind wandered.
For the first time, I heard the monster's voice, taunting me.
"You must be an idiot for running away! Hahahaha, coward! Didn't you enjoy it that night? Did you see how the girls were enjoying themselves? That's how to do it!"
The voice echoed in my mind, haunting me.
"Look around," it continued. "They all do it. It's sweet and happiness."
My gaze involuntarily swept across the classroom, taking in the familiar faces. The pretty faces.
Why was I looking? I didn't know.
"Try it with them," the voice whispered.
I clenched my fists, fighting the urge.
"Shut up, you liar!" I shouted, silencing the voice.
But my outburst startled the class. Everyone turned, eyes wide with concern.
Mrs. Johnson's brow furrowed. "Gladys, is everything—"
I didn't let her finish. I sprang from my seat and bolted out of the classroom.
" Weirdo," someone whispered.
The label stung.
Was I losing my grip on reality?
Was I becoming a monster?