The beginning of a long story; Whores

It was a cold October that year, always a rare month for boys. It had been long since any of them had seen a boy, at least young one. The youngest man around was the groundskeeper, whose age was beyond counting on three different girls fingers and toes. Still then, girls battered a not-so bashful eye at him, just to see what would happen. They would smile innocently, pencils dropping at alarming rates, constantly checking the power of gravity. He never did pay attention though perhaps a quick glance then he’d continue on his way. Years ago a pool of money was growing of who could seduce him first, and no girl wasn’t up for the challenge. Girls had to find things to amuse themselves the aching loneliness of school drew on long days, and mindless learning.

A sense of yearning had forever hovered over this school, with every step closer a person took there, a thick blanket of desperation and longing enveloped them. Every step closer became a trudge, dragging one’s feet across the ground, using every ounce of energy to take one more step. Looming faces of once pretty girls appear out of darkened bushes and even darker corners. Their eyes eagerly scanned the new face.A person could feel the girl’s eyes devour their face, with a starvation of attention from across the grounds. If they see nothing of interest, perhaps a delivery woman or a teacher, they slowly seep back into the shadows; as a wall of regret and disappointment that looms behind them. If by chance, and oh, what a rare chance it was, the face they so closely examine is the one of a boy, color rushes back into their face, like a movie of black and white, grim and depressing, suddenly erupting with color, tricking in every corner. The newly found color seems to choke the girls, they gasp for air, gawking at the boy, as if mummies awakened from their sleep.

They scuttle out of their hiding places like rats, with a permanent scowl of deceit, tattooed on their foreheads. As if the boy was precious meat, they surround him, eagerly sniffing and examining. Girls grab his arm, clinging to him like a vine, wishing their bodies to become one. A boy’s face turns to glee with a slight smirk of satisfaction. Every boy knew the drill. Many of them dreamed at night of this moment, that they would come to a school of girls, hundreds thousands of girls, and it did not matter to those girls if you were ugly. All that mattered is you were a boy. Where a boy comes from, any boy, he can only expect teasing and sodomy, but here… girls upon girls, everywhere a boy looked. It was as if a sea had washed upon a shipwreck of maidens. It seemed as if the girls were in a gigantic moshpit, one jumping the other, tackling, just to get one step closer, just to be able to touch him. Clouds of dust sprung up from the ground, as bunches of black uniforms jumbled into one