Like Lily, I was too proud to cry, and too proud to chicken out using the safe word as he taunted me (unlike her, I had a choice). We are now thankfully past the grudges and good friends though we are no longer involved. This story will be developed more, both in the beginning and the end. I just posted it now to hear the response.Now, on with the story:She stood in front of Peter, in a dark blue jeans and white full sleeve shirt that she had left untucked. She looked drop-dead gorgeous, with her rich strawberry-red hair framing her angelic, innocent round face. Her lips – which were devoid of lipstick – looked delicious as they trembled slightly. Her cheeks were flushed from the anger that had long since dissipated into helplessness, and from the fear she felt for her family. Her eyes, a shade of emerald green, were shining with unshed tears. Her swan neck, which one saw when she haughtily gazed upon someone with a patronizing look, was now partially hidden as she looked down,. I shook my head to try to clear whatever the hell was running through my mind. My eyes suddenly opened wide as I realized that I WAS NOT Robert Thompson, shaking my head I saw that I Was Robert Thompson, but I wasn't.I sunk to the ground, still shaking my head, just how much more fucked up was this day going to get? I did notice, though, that whatever the blue-skinned woman did to me was gone. I was as solid as I ever was.As I sat there feeling my mind clear, I decided to go over the facts of her again. As before, I knew she was a Hindu goddess, though the blue skin meant she was one of only four possibilities.I had to shake my head, why was I drawing a blank? I'd done extensive study on ancient religions, especially their gods.Laying my head on the cool grass beneath the tree where I was, I tried to grasp what was usually second nature to me. I lay there for, how long I know not, before it seemed as if I got a moment of clarity.I immediately shifted back to my last line of thought..
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