Posted: March 30th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: A Breakthrough Bleeding | No Comments »

The following excerpt is the first part of “A Breakthrough, Bleeding”. You can read the second part here.
I quietly opened the front door for Theo, and we matched our footsteps as we climbed the stairs, to sound like only one person.
Both Theo and I were home from college for winter break. He had parked his car further up the street. Mama and Tato were watching a movie and drinking wine in the family room.
I could tell that Theo was nervous, and I liked the feeling of power I had over him. Calming him with my kisses, I covered his mouth with my own whenever he tried to protest.
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Posted: March 29th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Art Project | No Comments »

Theo had been in my art class all along, but I had never noticed him before. I was usually so fixated on my work that I never paid much attention to the other students.
On Monday morning, we walked into class at the same time.
“Oh, hi,” I said.
“Hey, girl from the train,” said Theo. “I was planning on calling you today. I got your message.”
“I didn’t know we had class together,” I said.
For our next assignment, Professor Merrill announced, everyone in class would need to find a partner. I hated partner projects because I didn’t trust anyone else as much as I trusted myself, especially when it came to art. I was brainstorming ways to get out of the assignment when Theo stood up, walked across the studio classroom, and asked me to be his partner.
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Posted: March 28th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment »
I know you’ve been creeping around this site and reading some of my stories. So far, I have shared about half of “The Prescribed Burn”. I figured now would be a good time to check in with my readers.
What have you liked the best so far?
What isn’t really doing it for you?
What would you like me to write about more?
What would you like me to write about less?
What suggestions do you have for me?
What else would you like to say?
You can leave comments anonymously below. Just provide a phony e-mail address and use a fake name. I’ll never know who you are.
Posted: March 26th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Not Homecoming | No Comments »

The following excerpt is the fourth part of “Not Homecoming”. You can read the first part here. You can read the second part here. You can read the third part here.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” said Arthur.
He didn’t seem mad or disappointed, just calm and concerned about why I was crying.
“Will egg and cheese make you feel better?” He asked.
Finally, Arthur had an idea that I really liked. We got dressed, and he drove us to the shopping center in West Caldwell with the bagel place and the Quick Chek.
Part of me felt like I was on vacation, and another part of me felt like I was home. I had been to these stores so many times that even the cashier at the bagel place still remembered my name and greeted me when we entered. He even started to make my usual sandwich before I could order it.
I smiled for that first time that day. In New Jersey, I was royalty.
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Posted: March 25th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Not Homecoming | 1 Comment »

The following excerpt is the third part of “Not Homecoming”. You can read the first part here. You can read the second part here.
When we got to his house, Arthur went inside first to make sure his mom was gone. Arthur lived here with his mom, his older sister, and his sister’s fiancé; the couple lived in a separate apartment on the second floor. His mom was going out of town for the weekend, and his sister didn’t care if I spent the night.
Arthur’s house was about fifteen minutes from the house where I grew up but where I no longer lived. I was almost home.
I stood outside in the dark driveway, waiting for Arthur and wondering if Theo would really call. I tried not to raise my expectations. He probably lost the piece of paper on the train. Maybe a stranger, who had found my number on the floor in the aisle, would call.
Arthur returned to the front door and waved his hand, signaling for me to enter. We ran up the stairs to his bedroom, and Arthur pushed me down on his bed and started to kiss me. I loved kissing Arthur, but would this be the moment? Had he taken a Viagra?
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Posted: March 24th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Not Homecoming | No Comments »

The following excerpt is the second part of “Not Homecoming”. You can read the first part here.
With Theo gone, I could worry more about what my weekend with Arthur would bring.
Arthur and I had been dating for more than a year but we still retained our virginity. We had done everything besides sex, but I was usually on the receiving end.
Don’t get me wrong; I wanted to please Arthur, but trying to please him was difficult and exhausting. I never knew what I was doing wrong.
I could go down on him for forty-five minutes, and nothing would happen. Most of the time, his penis would become soft, and I would ask him what I could do to make it better. He never knew, and I never wanted to embarrass him further.
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Posted: March 23rd, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Not Homecoming | No Comments »

The following excerpt is the first part of “Not Homecoming”. You can read the second part here.
When I returned to my apartment after Friday’s final class, I asked my roommate Courtney to do the special stretches with me.
At a local video store, we had found an instructional DVD that showed women how to stretch in preparation for sex. Of course, we bought it, not only because we laughed when we saw it but also because we were curious. I thought I should be prepared for Arthur, and I wanted to impress him with my limberness.
Wearing sweatpants, Courtney and I sat on the floor in the common room. We decided to do the stretches for exactly ten minutes so that I would have enough time to shave my legs, wash, condition, and blow-dry my hair, and then to ask Courtney to do my makeup the way I liked it for formal events.
The most painful stretch was the Groin Grimace, aptly named for the way we reacted to it. For this stretch, we had to lie on our backs, lift our legs and feet off the floor, and press the soles of our feet together. While bending our knees outward, we had to pull our heels in to our groin, and then press our knees to the floor, as much as we could. I could only hold this stretch for sixteen of the recommended thirty seconds.
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Posted: March 22nd, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Fireworks | No Comments »

The following excerpt is the third part of “Fireworks”. You can read the first part here. You can read the second part here.
I wondered if the nuclear power plant in Egg Harbor had exploded. Were we now slowly dying of radiation poisoning?
When I was in fifth grade, my teacher made me write an essay about the Chernobyl disaster in Ukraine. She knew I was Ukrainian and wanted me to explore my heritage. What did I know about Chernobyl?
Well, when I used to attend Ukrainian school on Saturday mornings, my friends and I made fun of the “fresh-off-the-boat” kid in our class, the one who contracted leukemia from being exposed to Chernobyl’s aftermath. I had never wanted to visit Ukraine, and I swore it was a disgusting and toxic place. I deserved death by nuclear power plant explosion.
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Posted: March 19th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Fireworks | No Comments »

The following excerpt is the second part of “Fireworks”. You can read the first part here.
By most standards, we were “good girls”.
My public school friends told me about kids who brought guns and marijuana to school. Neither Madsy nor I had ever done drugs. We hardly drank alcohol, and Madsy was the only one who had ever tried a cigarette.
But in the context of a Catholic school environment and under the strict rule of parents with high expectations, we tried to get away with what we could.
That wasn’t much. We were so innocent that no one ever believed how innocent we were.
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Posted: March 18th, 2010 | Author: Laryssa | Filed under: Fireworks | 1 Comment »

The following excerpt is the first part of “Fireworks”. You can read the second part here.
Madsy and I decided that we weren’t going to attend our senior prom.
First of all, we definitely didn’t want to spend the little money we earned from our part-time jobs on dresses we would wear once and formal hairstyles that would take forever to comb out at the end of the night.
More importantly, we didn’t know any boys. Many of our classmates at Saint Margaret’s had been set up with brothers, cousins, or friends of the few classmates who had boyfriends.
Any skinny and pimply prom date we could get at the last minute would probably ask for a blow-job in the diner after prom or show up drunk to the pre-prom photo shoot.
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