Fallen

1-

I

Am

An

Ambivert!

I feel I am, and the difficulties that come with that aren't often severe when you have to attend an induction ceremony.Being a qualified Clinical Psychologist requires 10% luck and 90% hard effort, or possibly some brains.

Approximately 8 years of book adherence and internal debate over whether to watch Apocalypse Now or study.Thank you, G, for your scholarship initiatives.

I say there is luck because I recall throwing dice on the last ten questions of the exam.

Our token is somewhat fragile in my opinion, far too trivial for all of the hard work that needs to be done.Starting with over 200 or more classmates, I ended up with 47 holding this cup with me, and only 9 of us were fortunate enough to be part of a program in which we individually distributed to selected hospitals.An appointment, rather than an opportunity.

Some of these mental health professionals will work for colleges, wellness centers, private offices, or even schools, caring for others' well-being using the knowledge and abilities they gained while pursuing this wonderfully ass degree.

I ought to have been a psychometrician.Research is my strong suit.

Something I'm proud of myself but no one to share in this jungle.

They said a great thing you can leave your child behind is a Sibling.

I wish I did have then a wish came true.

My mom got knocked up but wasn't capable to do so again for some reasons she wouldn't tell. She's far from me too far for this busy life living on our farm with cows and chickens to talk to and a few good folks now and then. She is proud and would be smiling from ear to ear, even if she wished I would pursue animal husbandry, which I considered a cool vocation when I was in elementary school.

Sticking your hand on a cow's buttocks isn't exactly cool.

The clinking of the glass represents my diminishment and my need to leave.It's done, and I don't want to stay any longer, attempting to hold a nice conversation with people who can read your body language.

Pffff...

What could be better than a 9-hour sleep schedule as a beauty regimen?I gather my possessions, including my most costly Gucci bag, which I will never buy again on Black Friday.I've never seen such violence for a discounted pair of Gucci footwear. Some people commit horrible deeds for the things they value.

This special haversack is only for emergency scenarios like weddings, funerals, and ceremonies like this, and before I forgot my lovely mug to be put on the Shelf along with the smudge accolades I've acquired.

Here I am, a country girl attempting to have an urban fantasy.

It was a fancy night.I know a few of them, but I don't want to mix.My ambivert mentality keeps me at bay, therefore I suppose I'm leaving.I said my goodbyes to my seniors, with whom I shared the table, while thinking up some explanations to justify my stunt.I stand up, drink the last of the mimosa, and silently waltz in my x-line midi dress.

Thank goodness no one bothered me, so I dashed through the nearest exit just as I noticed something strange approaching me.For a minute, I knew he was looking directly into my eyes, but who wouldn't?It might be both an asset and a risk; a rare set of indigo eyes, when purchased in the correct light, could be mistaken for amethyst.He smiled briefly and lingered before the door, softly reaching for my nape before forcing me back in so I could face him.

He gazed at me with a snake grasp on me. I could see him disputing with himself over what he done to me, as if he were scouring the depths of the ocean.Suddenly, his lips were on my neck, and I could feel his breathing hovering below my left ear lobe. He bit me so hard that I bit my lower lip to avoid cursing this ding bag.He refused to let go, and his biting hurt my neck.

My thoughts became apparent that this person, no matter how attractive, is a piece of the shit son of a frog who has the money to purchase anything or anybody he wants if he can't do it in public without fear of anyone or authority.He could be powerful, he could be a vampire, but I won't remain to find out.

My fight or flight response kicks in with contempt as I shove my body away from him, creating just enough distance to release the breath I'd been hiding.I wanted to yell at his actions or throw my bag in his lovely face, but I remembered that this is not the place to make a disturbance and certainly not having eyes on me.

The son of a gun was waiting to see my reaction, but I remained composed.

So I flashed him a death gaze as if he was Donald Trump, touched my swollen neck, and walked away as quickly as my heels could take me to a taxi.I saw him smirk before departing, and I will not give him the pleasure of seeing me become uncivilized.As I close the cab door and feel relieved to be away from that psychotic piece of shit, I hear him chuckle like Light Yagami at my situation.