Mean Girl

I was a mean girl. Well, let me clarify. I was ruthless only in my casual encounters. In all other aspects of my life, I felt I was a decent person. I always helped my elderly neighbor carry in her groceries. I volunteered on Saturdays at the animal shelter. I gave my leftover food to the homeless on the street. I wasn't a bad person. My meanness stemmed from my refusal to have a committed relationship. If I was painfully honest, though, I knew that was only part of it. I got off on the luring. The idea of controlling the temptation excited me beyond belief. It was a game, and one I must win. Once I was victorious, I no longer cared about my trophy. The act was just the gateway drug to a bigger high I was after. The seduction. Unfortunately, seduction was not some casual hobby of mine. Since experiencing the electrifying power when I conquer a prize, it had become like an addiction. It consumed me. I would win at all costs. Then it happened. My biggest challenge yet. Only this one had a forty-five pound noose around his neck. I was in over my head...and I didn't know how to get out.