Craving More

Maziken

I walk through the house and find Edward in the living room. He’s sat back on the chair, so I walk towards him.

“How about this year, we go out for our anniversary?” he asks, and I stand shocked. That’s different and not expected. I nod and lean over him, kissing his lips and smiling against him.

Grasping his hand, I move it to my head, hoping that he will tangle his fingers into my hair, only he doesn’t. He gently holds my head like I’m a weak, fragile doll. Climbing onto the chair with him, I kiss him more fiercely.

My hand slips between my legs, and I begin to play.

“Stop!” Edward’s shout has me jumping. “Don’t do that. You’re not a fucking horny teenager or some whore,” his words lash at me hard, and I nod.

All I want is something, but even I know it’s not going to happen.

“I’m showering,” he says as he moves me off him and walks out. I wait and then follow. Stepping into the bathroom, I strip and go to step into the shower.

“What are you doing, Mazikeen!” His words are shouted. “What has gotten into you today? First, you ignore your mother, talk back to her, then act like some horny teenager who can’t behave,” he shouts and pushes past me before walking out.

My head drops as the water from the shower runs across my body. My mind goes to King, the way he spoke and his whole posture.

Slipping my hand between my legs, I imagine how he would take me. He would. It wouldn’t be me trying to take him like I do with Edward. No, he would just take me the way I dreamed. At least, that is what my mind shows me to help me reach the limit.

Even after pleasure, it’s nothing. My body still feels numb and like it needs more.

---

I look across at the students and wait, but they are quiet.

“Come on guys, you read the book, all I want to know is your initial thoughts on Wuthering Heights,” I laugh.

“Wuthering Heights, Miss Jaceck. Heathcliff got high within his adopted family, only to be demoted to a servant. He ran from his true love and blamed those ’round him for it,” the voice sends shivers down my spine.

Turning, I look at the door.

“Who are you?” I ask, I’m pretty sure no one in my class has the name King, so why is he here? How old is he?

“Ezekiel, Miss. Ezekiel King Reed,” He smirks and walks forward, I watch as he sits in the open seat directly opposite my desk and chair. People begin to whisper, and I look around, confused.

“Okay, Ezekiel. Considering you know it, what are your thoughts on him getting revenge?”

“Weak man; he overheard a conversation, and rather than stickin’ around and fightin’ to prove he was worthy, he ran like a coward,” he states.

“Some would say he used his common sense and knew nothing would make her accept him because of his status,” Samuel argues back.

“Had he spoken to ’er, he would’ve learnt the truth behind ’er marriage; it was to help him get higher. He let fear run him out,” King shouts at him.

“You’re telling me if you hear that the woman you love plans to marry someone else because you’re not good enough and are dirty, you would stay?” Samuel glares at him.

“Dirty? You ain’t speakin’ about the book no more, Sammy boy, but the answer is fuckin’ yes. Ya love someone. Ya don’t hear a snippet of a conversation and run and then go back for revenge when he fucked things up ’imself.”

“KING!” I shout, and everyone gawps at me, fudge.

“Yes, Miss?” He smirks at me.

“Can we not swear so much, please? No one is wrong—that’s the whole point of stories. Everyone interprets them differently. Some see a weak man running in fear, while others see a smart man knowing he won’t be seen as worthy,” I explain.

“I apologise,” he smiles at me and turns to Samuel. “Not to you. I ain’t dirty, and ya don’t know my life or my business, so stay outta it!”

Wow, okay. Samuel glares at him.

“It’s fucking ridiculous that you even got a place here, that’s what is my business,”

“Boys! Don’t argue over a book,” I shout.

“It ain’t about a book, Miss,” King looks at me.

“No, it’s about the biker gang running wild,” Samuel argues.

“Club! It’s a fuckin’ club,” King shouts back.

“Okay, stop. This isn’t working. Does anyone have views on Catherine’s side, please?”

“She’s naive.” Donna looks at me. “King may call Heathcliff weak and scared, but she is. Just because he was of a lower class made no difference. She could have married him, regardless of the views of others. Then he would rise in class, but she didn’t,” Donna explains.

“Why, does anyone knows why she chose to do that, something that isn’t a weakness?” I ask.

“Ya, social influence. We’re all in a box, Miss; gettin’ outa that box and removin’ the labels ain’t easy. Discrimination, prejudice, all that shit that makes people live their lives with everyone else’s thoughts in their mind but not their own,” King looks at me.

“Good, let’s talk about that some more. Boxes and labels, tell me about them, give me examples.” I look around the room.

“We’re students, Miss. That is a label and box we’re put in. People judge us based on that label or box. People think students spend their free time partying, getting drunk and doing stupid shit. That’s not all students, but we all get handed the same sentence.” Jessica looks at me.

“Good. Any other examples?” I look around.

“Your family, the name you were born into, how you look, like bikers, instantly blamed for bein’ in a gan’ and upta no good,” King explains.

“Exactly, what family you are born into, that last name you have can be the difference between acceptance and rejection. Let’s use bikers, what is the reason for bikers having a bad name?” I look around.

“Because they’re wrong, they deal with illegal shit. Have no respect or morals.” Samuel glances at King.

“Story and narrative, Miss,” King glares towards Samuel. “News, movies, TV shows. They set the norm for a group; they all show bikers as these tough guys who do illegal things, so it’s embedded in small-minded brains that everyone is like that,” King argues back.

“Very well put. King is right. Our thoughts are influenced every day, all the time. You might not notice, but look at things in your life. Stereotyping people because of one small thing happens to everyone,” I explain.

“Not everyone,” Samuel speaks, and I laugh.

“No? Let’s test that theory, boys on one side, girls on the other.” I watch as they move, but King stays in the same place, refusing.

“King, that side, please,” I say.

“I like this seat, Miss,” he says while smirking. “Plus, isn’t that also stereotyping? Ya assuming I’m a guy just because I look like one?” He smirks.

“Okay, be a girl.” I laugh and look at the boys. “Look across the room, tell me what you see, what is expected of them. What your belief is,” I say.

“They are women,” Samuel laughs.

“They aren’t strong, Miss, they are weaker then men.” Jake looks at me.

“Let’s not forget that they also are obsessed with fashion, and makeup,” Oliver laughs, they keep going and my hand raises.

“Okay, you had your fun. Girls, have at it,” I say, leaning back to watch.

“They think they rule,” Jessica speaks.

“Yeah, and let’s not forget they can’t cook for shit,” Louise shouts.

“Men also have a power trip. They think they should rule over women,” Andrea argues.

“Men are seen as stron’, and shouldn’t show weakness, a cryin’ man is a weak man. Men are emotionless aliens who feel nothin’. Women on the other hand, are seen as too emotional and unhinged. Both are fake facts but that’s how the genders are represented in movies and stories,” King looks at me and everyone falls quiet.

“Very good. Go back to your seats.” I watch them move. “You are put into a box and given a label for the colour of your hair, the colour of your skin, and your height. Everything in your life leads to a form of stereotyping; I want you all to come back with a list of books and films that do this. And how they do it.” I watch as they begin to pack up. Sitting at my desk, I glance at my phone.

No call from my mother yet.

“Miss.”

I look up to see King leaning over the desk.

“Yes King?” I smile at him.

“I ain’t a boy, just setting the record straight,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed on mine.

“Maybe not legally King, but to me, every student in this class begins as a boy or girl until they prove themselves otherwise,” I explain.

“Very stereotypical of you, Miss,” He leans closer.

“No, I just don’t want to treat people as adults, and they screw up; this way, low expectations to start, and no one gets judged for acting in a way that they are perceived not to. This way, how they act determines how I treat them,” I explain.

“I’m sure I proved myself, Miss; I ain’t a boy,” King states, and I swallow loudly.

“We will see, King. Have a nice day.” I smile and watch him leave. Walking out, I go to the staff room.

“Did that Ezekiel show up?” Lorna looks at me.

“It’s wrong they gave him a spot. This university is private. He shouldn’t have gotten his foot in here with his dirty money,” Harry sits down.

“He did show and seems like a smart boy,” I reply.

“Yeah, right.” Harry laugh. “He’s probably prepared what to say to make a good first impression; it won’t last; his sort never does.”

“I think he has potential,” I explain, and Harry laughs more. I hate other professors sometimes.