“Thank you,” I said, taking a seat as she stood behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “What's your major, Kim?” She asked as her femi...ine hands pulled on my tense shoulder muscles. “Journalism,” I squeaked, sinking down in her chair. “You should be a women's studies major,” she told me. It felt to me like she was trying to convert me to her lesbian lifestyle. It was not a long shot considering her power over me. She leaned over me and tilted my head back, pressing her fingers on my. I looked at the window, but I didn’t see anything but darkness. Every now and then we passed a lonely house, and the light shone softly among the fir trees, only to disappear just as quickly. I discretely turned my head to look at the young woman again. She was sitting very still and very quiet, as if she was a porcelain doll, but she was still crying. Big tears ran down her cheeks and down her neck. She swallowed, and the muscles moved under her skin. That was the only visible movement. I. More

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