"I think I finally get it."

"Get what?" There was something about the look in his eyes, the confidence, the surety, that had me swallowing hard.

"You." And as he smiled, it was almost smug. "I get you, Oz. You're a little, Aren't you?"

If only I had known at the time just how much those few little words were going to change my life.

The Little Of Oz Series

Hands braced on the sink and a whole universe of anguish coming to settle inside the deepest parts of me, it was all I could think.

The door was locked, but even still, his presence still seemed to seep into the room. I could still feel his hands on my body. I could still see his eyes- an indecisive shade that seemed to alternate depending on the lighting and his mood- staring down at me every time I closed my own. His words in my ear, the sound of my own terrible, traitorous moans.

It all fucking haunted me; there was no escape.

Shame, disgust, hatred, they had blended together, forming a deadly cocktail that made me feel sick to my stomach. My head was a fuzzy mess, thoughts haywire and incapable of stringing together anything of contextual sense.

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