Page 34 of Doxed

It’s been a week, and she’s fucking everywhere.

She’s in the kitchen, her fork clanging against the bowl as she eats, the smell of her hair products and body wash still drift out of her bathroom and into the hallway, her mango scent still clings to the bedsheets, and I can see her long, rich brown hair trailing behind her as she runs through the trees surrounding the house.

I can’t get her out of my goddamn head and it’s driving me crazy.

Her gaming console sits on the coffee table in my room, mocking me. I can still feel her sitting next to me as we played that racing game.

I think I may have messed up. But what am I supposed to do about it now? What about my parents?

I hate Briar, but at the same time, I don't. She’s not like I had imagined; she’s kind and bratty and I enjoy pushing her around so she pushes back. And Jesus fuck, that girl has the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted.

But I sold her into sex slavery, and that’s kind of fucking serious.

I don’t know how I’d make that up to her, or even how to find her at this point.

I can’t forget the look of betrayal and hurt on her face as I finally told her the truth, and she realized what was happening. It makes me sick to my stomach.