Time passed slowly as I looked at the clock on the dashboard of the car. Ten minutes of eight. I glanced behind me and saw the school buses lining up, the bodies pouring from them. They were faceless, every one of them an embodiment of my eternal torment. It didn’t matter if they had never…

Myra turned the page of the newspaper, enjoying the silty quality of the paper beneath her fingertips. Her eyes scanned the headlines: crime, abuse, and heartache. A black-and-white picture of a large, old home caught her attention. Her heart raced at the sight of it.

Have you ever seen something you knew you wanted the moment you saw it? Something so delicious and mouth-watering that you could almost taste it on your tongue? Like your favorite dessert. That was her, and every curve of her body beneath the little black dress was perfection. The more I watched her from across…