Коллекционер

           Hesaidthingsthatshowedhehatesmeaswell.

           Heresentsmyexistence.That’sexactlyit.

           Hedoesn’trealizeitfullyyet,becausehe’stryingtobenicetomeatthemoment.Buthe’smuchnearerthanhewas.Onedaysoonhe’sgoingtowakeupandsaytohimself—Ihateher.

           Somethingnasty.

           WhenIcameroundfromthechloroformIwasinbed.Ihadmylastunderclotheson,buthemusthavetakeneverythingelseoff.

           Iwasfurious,thatfirstnight.Madwithdisgust.Hisbeastlygloatinghandstouchingme.Peelingmystockingsoff.Loathsome.

           ThenIthoughtofwhathemighthavedone.Andhadn’t.Idecidednottoflyathim.

           Butsilence.

           Toshoutatsomeonesuggeststhatthere’sstillcontact.

           SincethenI’vethoughttwothings.

           First:he’sweirdenoughtohaveundressedmewithoutthinking,accordingtosomemadnotionofthe"proper"thingtodo.PerhapshethoughtIcouldn’tlieinbedwithmyclotheson.

           Andthenthatperhapsitwasasortofreminder.Ofallthethingshemighthavedone,buthadn’t.Hischivalry.AndIacceptthat.Ihavebeenlucky.

           ButIevenfinditfrighteningthathedidn’tdoanything.Whatishe?

           Thereisagreatriftbetweenusnow.Itcanneverbebridged.

           Hesaysnowhewillreleasemeinanotherfourweeks.Justtalk.Idon’tbelievehim.SoI’vewarnedhimI’mgoingtotrytokillhim.Iwouldnow.Iwouldn’tthinktwiceaboutit.

           I’veseenhowwrongIwasbefore.Howblind.

           IprostitutedmyselftoCaliban.