An afternoon confession
How loathsome it was to peel back the first tear of the skin of an orange. Her nail dug into the flesh, it resisted, and despite the precision of her solid dash along the top it still fought with some life. Her wide eyes narrowed, keen like a predator eyeing prey, as she pressed along her insertion with her other hand prying off the first layer of the fruit; she had grown tired of this game, it was no longer enjoyable or fun. On the contrary she found no pleasure in having to quench such human delicacies like sating hunger.
With the flick of her wrist the peel of the succulent fruit fell and landed abruptly on the tile floor. Juice fell from her palm, drizzle from wrist, until it dripped onto the desk in which she currently sat upon; no longer a diligent student like one that sits in seat, but like troubled outcasts upon the wooden desk as if a complete social failure. What use did social norms hold to her? Using her tongue she obscenely traced along her arm and palm where the juice had descended on her white flesh. The taste was strong, fulfilling, and full of nutrients that supplied this frame with life and color.
The sky was beautiful this time of evening with colors of orange, purple, and many other hue that made dusk such the sight to behold. All other students had since returned to their dorms, homes, as after curricular activities ceased and came to an end. Such trivial courses had never appealed to her despite how often a shy reclusive boy, the insistent mentioning from a masculine athlete, a proud class representative, or even the bland looking girls seeking friendship or companionship approached and frequently asked. Although, she found her passion in studies such as biology where one particular session stirred a rather unorthodox curiosity.
With the lid of the fruit now ajar she circled the succulent insides with her finger teasingly. Her nail would puncture with just the right amount of force into it, yet she had no desire yet to consume her meal as if to savor in her victory a moment longer. Instead she admired the size of her catch as it seemed the size of a melon of sorts; logically the naive girl should have known that it's size was unusual, yet the madness or hunger that dwell within her was overwhelming it flooded all senses. She found herself salivating, unbecoming of a young lady, but curiosity demanded that she learned more. Taking a pen, the point retracted as to not contaminate the food, and her nail she plucked a small portion of the orange's interior before bringing it to her lips.
Surprisingly it tasted little of juice or of any fruit she had ever happened to have before. No it was rich with a metallic taste, was this iron? However, despite the shocking and unsuspecting results of her efforts she was not turned off from this fruit. On the contrary, like the remnants of it that had fallen on her hand, she quite enjoyed the taste of it and the heat and stickiness of it that momentarily lingered on her arm. If only she had someone to share this magnificent meal with she pondered for a moment before realizing she hadn't been alone.
"Oh, that's right. Sem-pai ♥ taste this, it's delicious I swear." The girl muttered softly as to not wake them from a daze or trance. She leaned forward, shifting the melon shaped fruit resting in her lap, as she offered her snack to them. The pink flesh of it between her nail and the pen as she softly brushed it against their lips like a lover may do for another. They had no right to refuse the gesture as that wouldn't be quite polite to deny a pretty girl; no, it was best to submit and do as they ask. The boy whose head rested in her lap allowed the substance of her admiration onto his lips and then began to chew.
"Good, isn't it? Care for more, Sem-pai ♥?" It would seem her guest quite enjoyed the host's appetizer; he answered her response with a simple nod. So compliant if only the dish the meal was served in could be so well behaved as it moved about in her lap. She helped herself to seconds, placing it in her lips, yet she did not chew on it; instead she allowed her taste buds to savor the taste and texture. Oh, she knew what to do. It was time to take their relationship to the next step. With new found confidence she raised herself up, allowing the bowl to rest easily upon the desk.
Standing now before her dinner guest she flicked the fruit in her mouth about with her tongue, allowing it to brush up against her cheeks, as she kneel down to press her lips against the boys. Then while turning her face to the side she allowed entry from her meal to be savored by the two of them. Once it left her lips, a trail of mixed saliva, was left as she blushed turning around shyly. Then her embarrassment skyrocketed when she realized at this angle he could see more as she frantically brushed her skirt and held it down.
"You saw, didn't you......" She pouted. Meanwhile the boy's chewing slowed as his body gradually swayed in one direction until his body could no longer support it on the desk. His head hit hard on the floor as the contents of the bowl scattered about the floor. She nearly burst into tears until a passerby from outside of the classroom came to investigate the sudden noise. A scream escaped from another schoolgirl who witnessed a horrific scene: a comatose boy whose head had been surgically cut into, whose brains laid on the floor, and another girl covered in blood talking to a corpse.
"Look what you did! It's RUINED NOW!"" Anger rose into her, eyes narrowing, as she pressed down on the ballpoint pen then threw it across the classroom with a great amount of force.
The object pierced through the unannounced dinner guest; although, death was imminent they did not experience a quick death. Her body convulsed, shacking, trying to piece together what just had transpired and why it was her vision blurry. She tried to shriek again, but the words just would not come from her own throat; upon her instinctive curiosity she found something within it. The index finger brushed against the button of the writing tool before the realization and then succumbing to death.
"Oh, sempai I'm so sorry...." the girl muttered trying to scoop up the contents of the boy's mind hoping to fix them. Then in her frantic moment of weakness the wheels of her own thoughts began to turn to fuel delusions; a coping mechanism as to otherwise justify what it is that just commenced. The event played entirely different where the boy was being intimate with her latest victim; she had given her heart to her dearest sempai and he had betrayed her love. Having caught them in the act she had no choice but to retaliate as she had, right?
"That'll teach you sempai!" She stood up dropping the brain matter and flicked her hands as to let the blood on them soar about. Her entire composure had changed, demeanor and all, and she stood up and stormed out of the classroom even to the extent of slamming the door shut. With one hand she pulled out a phone, staining her skirt and school attire with scarlet paint, and she licked the liquid off of her other hand like a cat may groom themselves.
"Nee-san, can you come pick me up from school? No, Sempai wont be coming. Please hurry, I really need someone to talk too...." Her anger subsided and now guilt, sadness, crept in as she fled the scene. Actual tears near fell from her eyes, she wiped the traces of them aside, genuinely believing things to have transpired as they had moments before. Things would be better when her nee-san showed; one of the only people to truly understand her.