The Monster Within Read Online Free PDF Page B

school students are released at separate times. Looking at the clock, I know that most of the extracurricular activities are wrapping up. I know that I shouldn’t be here, or at least, I know that a stronger man would resist this. Maybe not a stronger man, but a younger man would. When we’re young we don’t realize that our demons are actually us, we’re just too stupid to accept it. We try to pretend like we’re something we’re not, or at least we try to convince ourselves that we are. I pull the Shelby up to a parking spot along the side of the road at an empty intersection, watching the old, red brick building behind the chain link fence. The volleyball team is wrapped up by now and the girls are making their way out of the detached gymnasium. They make their way down the street, a whole flock of them. I watch them like a wolf and I remind myself that this is the closest that I’ll allow myself ever to get. This is where I draw the line, where I built the walls, and where I look over at the darkness of the world and remind myself that I’m not one of them, not anymore.
    The idea of denying yourself your desires is inviting your own disappointment. It’s inviting your own destruction because you’ll break. People who try to deny themselves their desires only end up giving in and usually violently. The idea is control, pleasure through moderation, keeping a watch on yourself and keeping check. This is why I’m staying in my car, watching them from a distance. It’s safer for all of us this way.
    There’s something about them, it draws me to them. I watch the way their bodies move, how the majority of them are so perfectly sculpted. Their bodies are the best they will probably ever be. Their legs are long, muscular, and still looking to be more graceful and lovely. My eyes run up their knee high socks to their plaid skirts where I can see the soft, unblemished flesh of their thighs. Their breasts are young and perky, their eyes wide and innocent. I watch them parade past my car while I eat my burger, pretending not to notice them.
    I think it’s the innocence of them that draws me in. They haven’t been jaded, corrupted, or broken by the harsh reality of the world. The world turns girls like these into disappointed husks of what they might have once been. Their dreams become their prisons and they are suffocated by those ideals they once held, remorseful of their lost chances and past hopes. They become victims and they become monsters. This is the worst of the world, broken women. To me, the innocence is so alluring. But not all of them can be saved, either.
    But justification is a young man’s game. I don’t justify or deny my desires any longer. I like girls who are in their last years of high school. I like the feeling of naïve, innocent girls. I like the way they talk, taste, and look. I have a craving that runs deep into my soul and I refuse to fight against it any longer. I am friends with my demons now. I am on speaking terms with my sins.
    There’s one girl that draws my attention. She’s leaning against the street sign holding a cigarette up to her lips, taking a long drag and looking up the street. Her back is to me and my eyes look up her long legs to where the breeze stirs her skirt and I imagine her panties underneath and everything that lurks beneath that. She’s got larger breasts than the other girls and she’s got the curse of being attractive in the wrong part of the city. She’s been worked over by monsters disguised as Prince Charming and she’s become jaded by that. She’ll be in a strip club soon, or she’ll have a baby in her belly. Either way, her days are numbered. I drive by her slowly, watching the breeze ruffle her amber hair as she turns and looks at me. Her face is pretty and she looks at the car, impressed enough to give me a nod. Part of me wants to pull over, run across the street, and plow her. I want to lay into her and fuck her brains out, but there’s nothing