pt. 3

It was a rainy day. One of dem cold rainy days where not even da strays venture from their trash cans. I was sittin’ on a stoop thinkin’ about it dey say it rains like cats an’ dogs when cats an’ dogs ain’t even stupid ‘nough to go out in it when I saw ‘er. She was beautiful. ‘Er umbrella made a rainy halo about ‘er head of red luscious ‘air, which bounced with ‘er every step. She wore a fitted peacoat that did a lot to accentuate ‘er rather nice figure. ‘Er cherry printed dress peaked out from under da coat. Just enough to tease about what might be underneath. On ‘er petite feet were white heels that seemed to glide over da rain water on da sidewalk. She was perfect. Poetry in motion. Chocolate on your tongue. I knew then that I had to have her.
She walked by without a care. I was entranced. Without really realizing what I was doin’, I follo’ed ‘er for a bit. She was beauty in motion. She kept slippin’ in an’ outta view as she walked in an’ outta the light from the streetlamps. Each time, I kept fearin’ she’d disappear. She seemed ta start…
I grabbed for ‘er in da dark. She screamed in alarm, I think. I don’t really remember what happened next…it’s mostly a blur of colors…whites and reds mostly.
Da next thing I remember is we is in an alley. She’s under me. Dress ripped and blood pouring out from between ‘er legs. You’d think in that heavy rain da blood wouldn’t stay, eh. But it did. It poured out so much I thought she’d die. I looked into ‘er eyes. Dey was all red from cryin’ and a bit bruised from where I guess I ‘it ‘er. I don’t remember doin’ dat, but I guess I did. I wouldn’t want to hurt such a pretty face, but I guess she wouldn’t quiet down. Dem whores are always like dat. Screaming for you ta stop just to get ya blood boilin’. But, dey don’t know when enough is enough. Sometimes a man just wants to hear da grunts and that fleshy sound as we collide.
Den, da bitch spoke. Let’s face it, any girl who gives it up on da first date probably ain’t no saint, so chances are she a bitch. A filthy one judgin’ by how much she bended and all. “Please…please…” she whimpered in true bitch form.
I looked into ‘er eyes. She was cryin’ again. Bitch or not, I couldn’t let her go one like dis. All dat sufferin’ and pain. I did want any gentleman would do. I killed her. Broke her neck right there. It was hard to do. I hesitated. But once she screamed in pain I knew that I hadda man up and do it proper. So I did. Her screams cut off quickly. She kept bleedin’ though…