Why?
Because she wanted to fit in, but she also wanted to be unique.

            Why?
Because she wanted it all.

            “Oh god.” Bette
said to the mirror and the reflection stared back, eyes hollow and soul filled
with pain.

~*~*~*~*~*

            Shane
and Cherie were in Cherie‘s
bed, cuddling after a long evening of making love. Shane
kissed her neck, licking own her shoulder and pressing her onto her stomach. Cherie
moaned lightly and Shane took that as a good
sign, she was desperately in love with the woman, and she was at a loss at how
to be with her 24 hours a day.

            Shane,
of course, hadn’t told Cherie how she felt, that
would be way to much for the stand offish playgirl. She was, however, showing
her in as many ways as possible.

            “Shane…
Oh god…” Cherie muttered as Shane‘s
long fingers curved into her. Cherie pressed
into Shane, turning her head and capturing her
mouth. Then the sound from the hallway, a quiet sound.

            “What the *****?” Cherie
muttered, and moved away from Shane, Shane
sat up, wondering what the noise was. Shane
moved to the edge of the bed, she reached for her shirt, pulling it on quickly,
something bad was about to happen.

            “So THIS is who you are
***** behind my back?” Steven said as he
entered the room, a baseball bat swinging from his hands. Shane
saw the bat, then looked right into his eyes, then back to the bat, it had
blood stains on it. Shane grabbed at her jeans,
seeing the small pocket knife that she carried fall out. Sure, pocket knife
verses baseball bat, no contest. She back away, scared and shaking as her world
began to come crashing down around her in slow motion.

            Cherie
shot out of the bed and Shane got up, grabbing
her clothes. Cherie put her hands up, begging
and pleading for Steven to think before he did
this, again.

            Again? Shane
thought, oh god I’ve been so played, up and down the court, I’ve been fucked
and played. This wasn’t the first time that Cherie
had been with someone else, Shane felt a pang of
something deep in the recesses of her heart, pain.

            “Look man, this isn’t what
you…” Shane began, and Steven
laughed, and it stopped her speech. There was no way he was going to listen to
her.

            “Think? Oh yes it is.” Steven
said, and Clea was behind him at the door, and Cherie
was begging for her life. Clea looked at Shane
with venom in her glare, and Shane felt badly
for the young woman. But only for a sweet short instant. Shane
jumped into her jeans, and looked pleadingly at Clea, who’s eyes were cold as
coal. Shane bit her lip, looking at the window,
knowing it was way to high to jump from. There was no way out, she was caught.