My love prognosis.

Regret? You pussies don't know what regret is. Here's a REAL story about regret, with sadness and sorrow and ninjas and canned yams.

There once was an ugly boy in High School. That ugly boy was ME. I WAS UGLY. UGLIER THAN ANY OF YOU. YEAH, THAT UGLY. Then I saw a girl. She was a cute girl. WHAT CHANCE WOULD AN UGLY BOY LIKE ME HAVE WITH THAT GIRL? But I didn't care. My resolve was harder than the erections I had in the morning whenever I woke up and thought about her. It was love at first sight. At least for me, I don't know about her. I didn't care what that bitch thought about me, she would be mine whether she liked it or not. I became obsessed with her. One could call it stalking, but stalking is usually creepy. THIS WAS OUT OF LOVE. A POWERFUL LOVE THAT WOULD NOT BE DENIED. I WAS GOING TO SMOTHER HER WITH IT FOREVER AND EVER.

ALSO FOREVER.

Eventually I found her out near the bus stop after school. I couldn't tell you how nervous I was to be basking in her splendor, her regal radiance that emanated through the sleazy bus stop. It was intoxicating. It was like whenever I breathed around her I was having orgasmic sex that only the most potent aphrodisiacs from a backwater town in Brazil could provide.

"S-s-s-so..." I was really fucking nervous. I SAID THAT ALREADY, DO YOU DOUBT ME?
"Hmm?"
"H-h-how's your day g-going?" I asked.
"Oh, it's going fine."
"That's n-n-nice."
OH RAPTURE! The conversation was so sweet it was better than fucking in public. And I've fucked plenty of times in public, so let me tell you that this was saying a lot. Fucking in public was awesome. Damn, I wonder if she would like to fuck in public. I'd like to fuck her in public. I should ask her if she would like to be fucked in public.

I'm not too obsessive, am I?

This continued for a while. Not the fucking in public, but that would be nice. The brief conversations at the bus stop. Every day the conversation would just a bit longer. Like sex, practice means you can hold it longer, and I'm a master of prolonging conversation like a pornstar is the master of faking really boring sex. But I didn't care. Her chestnut brown hair would dangle in the wind whenever a vehicle drove by. Her modest and reserved posture punctuated her cuteness. I WANTED TO CHERISH AND LOVE HER FOR HOW PURE SHE WAS. So eventually I got up the courage to ask the infamous question.

"Sorry, I have a boyfriend." It was like a dagger into my heart. A SERATED DAGGER COATED IN SORROW AND AGONY, SLOWLY BEING TWISTED WHILE MY LOVE BLED OUT ONTO THE FLOOR.
"What, WHO?" I asked.
"Charles Finnegan, if you know him."
"THAT PASTY-ASS ALBINO!?"
Charles Finnegan wasn't an albino. He was actually anemic, and I was surprised the poor bastard was still alive at his age. Renal failure will do that. His kidneys wouldn't be the only thing to suffer a slow and agonizing death. I wouldn't let him take my love away like that. SHE WAS MINE, NOBODY ELSE'S.
Eventually I caught him after school walking home. As soon as he got into the empty insurance firm parking lot, I decided to make my move.
"Hey there, Chuck." I said while reaching into my backpack.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"You should. Since I'll be the last person you'll ever see alive."
"Wha--" He got cut off mid-sentence because his throat was cut out by a machete. Why a machete? Because everybody has at least one friend who owns a machete. Mine happened to belong to a short little blonde girl I didn't pay much attention to. She was a little crazy. BUT I WOULD COVER IT IN THE REVENGE OF MY LOVE. I also hacked his legs off so he couldn't run. He started to scream and gurgle out blood a lot, and I didn't want there to be any evidence of his existence. That's where the gasoline came in. But being one who doesn't know much about pyrotechnics, I wasn't aware that such a large black husk would remain after it would be finished burning. This was amplified by the fact that I didn't bother removing his charred corpse from the parking lot, but that didn't matter. THEY NEVER CAUGHT ME, HA HA HA! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR FUCKING WITH MY LOVE, YOU ANEMIC LITTLE BASTARD.

I saw my angel crying at the bus stop the next day. AH, SUCH BEAUTIFUL TEARS.
"What happened?" I sympathetically asked.
"M-m-my boyfriend was murdered yesterday."
"WHAT? How?" I started to smile a bit.
"He was cut up and set on fire." she wept. "And they believe he was sexually assaulted, too." Don't look at me. Somebody must have a sick fetish or something. The disgusting pig. I'm so glad my sweet little girl is so pure. IT ALMOST MAKES A MAN WANT TO LOSE HIS FUCKING MIND.
"So that means you're single again, right?" I asked.
"W-w-what?" Her beautiful tear-soaked eyes looked at me.
"Does that mean I have a shot?" I turned to face her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "It means I have a shot, right?" I believe I might've been a little too aggressive, I was starting to scare my little angel.
"You're starting to scare me."
"You've scared me more than once with talk of that disgusting little albino. Jeopardizing things between us."
"I never even got your name, I just talked to you because you were kind of a creep hanging around me."

WHAT? A CREEP? AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW MY NAME. IT'S LIKE SHE'S TRYING TO DESTROY OUR BEAUTIFUL LOVE. WHY WOULD SHE DO THIS? Ah, but I wouldn't let her. No no no. I don't have much left. I won't let her get away. Never again would I do that. No sir. I would force her to love me.

And that's what I did.

"If you want me, I'm yours." And even if she doesn't want me. What I proceeded to do would be what one might call aggressive pursuit, but in the face of securing that everlasting love, one must take any and all measures. And it paid off, because there were such beautiful tears of joy afterwards. And during. And before. WONDERFUL EMOTIONS EVERYWHERE. And I couldn't be happier.

Until the next week. I didn't see or talk to her at all those following days. And it was heartbreaking. After making such passionate love, I needed to see her again. And I got my wish, but it was as if it was granted by some malicious genie that twisted my wish into some kind of abomination.
"Let's do it, right here and now." she said.
"We're at the bus stop."
"I know, just like last time. Come on, I need it."
"W-w-what?"
"COME ON AND FUCK ME HERE, ARE YOU NOT A MAN?"
The unthinkable had happened. My beautiful angel had become corrupted. Used goods. Deflowered. SULLIED AND TAINTED.
"THIS WAS NOT HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!" I obstinately shouted. "YOU'RE NOT PURE AND ANGELIC. YOU'RE EMBROILED IN LUST, YOU VILE SUCCUBUS!"
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, WHEN WE WERE HERE YESTERDAY YOU RA--"
"I WILL HAVE NO MORE OF YOUR HABBERDASHERY AND LIES!" I pulled out an aerosol can and a lighter. "BEGONE TO THE UNDERWORLD, SUCCUBUS!"
"WHAT ARE YOU DOI--" Her speech was stopped because it's hard to talk when there's high heat going into your lungs. But it wasn't difficult to scream. She screamed a lot. It was tempestuous watching her burn, but almost harmonic. Her voice was like a chorus or angels, but it was deceptive like the Succubus's despicable tune. So I set her on fire and sent her back to Hell where she belonged.

IT HURT TO WATCH THOUGH. When you thought you loved somebody so much and then you learn they're a vile urchin feeding off of others because they want your canned yams. I WON'T BE LED ASTRAY AGAIN, BUT IF ONLY I COULD'VE SAVED HER. Such beautiful innocence. That smoking black mass of what was once a human being almost tempted me again, but it wouldn't be so. NO, IT WOULDN'T BE SO.

And there were no ninjas. I LIED.