Quick

A silver blade kisses rosy cheeks,

gentle breath fogging the winter air.

Her hand trembles, so she tucks it under her leg, hiding it.

Hiding. Always hiding.

Behind the thick sweatshirts and layers of makeup,

behind the empty complements and white lies.

Behind the perfect schoolgirl persona she works so hard to maintain.

Perhaps it had worked too well.

Now, this boy stood across from her, eyes glittering with lust,

regarding the sweet little thing in front of him,

coaxing her impatiently into an alley,

caressing her with the tip of his blade.

"It'll be quick."

"You'll like it."

Decision made, she raised her eyes to meet his...

He froze.

The tears he was expecting were absent, the fear gone.

For a fraction of a second, the time between two heartbeats, perhaps,

pure joy flashed in her eyes, a dark malice that sent fear crawling up his spine.

"Shhhh," she soothed, prying the knife from his suddenly still hands.

"It'll be quick."