DIM

DIM

He stands before me, his eyes dark, my nerdy professor gone. In his place, the dominant man.

“You remember what you did?”

I nod meekly. Unable to form words, how could I? What could I possibly say to make the situation better?

“Use words.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I did not like that. You know that right?”

Of course, who would like being thrown up on? This was so embarrassing. My face was red when I answered;

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why did you do it?”

I blink, rooted in place. How do I respond to that question? There was no answer to that.

“Words, Roxanne.” He groans.

“I was drunk. I'm so sorry, I should not have done that. I didn’t mean to.” I cry.

His eyes take me in. I must look dishevelled, my hair was full of nuts that I have to untangle, my face flushed from the alcohol, my breath was stink up the place. I officially give up, I don't have any more dignity to go after this man. He had seen me at my worst, and you don’t throw up on men you want