“Oh, shit!” He said, with panic. I looked down at him worried “What’s wrong? What’s happening”

“There’s a lot of blood. I’ve never seen this much blood. Does it hurt?” “No, let me get up.” I get up staring at the bed that looks like a murder scene. I then feel a rush of blood and other wet things pour out between my legs. The floor is red, my clothes are red and he’s going to need to buy a new bed.

Two years earlier, coming out of the subway was when I first met him. I was wasted, tired and hungry. Climbing the never ending stairs while mentally counting how many blocks it was to my father’s house. A muscular man, 6’2” walking towards me, throws his cigarette and chugs the last of his coffee. He then says to me “Hey baby, did you have a goodnight?” I don’t know this man, I don’t know anyone here. I turn around to see if someone is behind me. Three am really is the hour that everyone stops existing. Noticing that I thought he was talking to someone else he grabs my chin and leans me against the bus stop. My first kiss was all teeth and saliva, from a stranger. I didn’t like it but I didn’t say no, so I guess that convinced him to ask the next question. “Want to come to my house? It’s just up the street from here.”

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Should I continue? I’d love to see some comments