Some nights I hear music, some nights there is laughter, and some nights there is crying.One night I approached and the closer I got, the quieter it f...elt until curiosity had me almost up against the door. Then I heard it...Moaning, talking and what I assumed was the sound of skin smacking against each other.What must it be like? I wondered.I was twenty-three and had yet to be touched by anyone in such a way.My virginity perfectly intact.I sat by the door and reached into my pants and listened. Most of the oppressors and narcissists Ive met arent strong readers. So why did I feel compelled to tell my story, you may ask? Well, why does anyone decide to write a journal, short story, or novel&hellip, fictional or otherwise? I simply had the urge to tell my tale, that is all. To some, it may come off as interesting. Others will undoubtedly see it as tragic&hellip,and not in the good Shakespearian sense. I am at least sure that all will find it to be…memorable. And thats saying a lot,. After a wait of 20 minutes, I got her call.D: Hello.K: Where are you?D: Zara warti bagha ki. (Look up.)And finally, I got the first view of her and this bitch came all prepared to give me a hard tease. She intentionally wore a winter jacket. She gave me a hard laugh after looking at my disappointed face. But the jeans were nice and tight. So, I put on a smile and climbed the staircase.We both looked into each other’s eyes with a smile and naturally hugged each other on the entry gate. I. * * * They spent Saturday afternoon with Dani’s parents. Lynn had suggested that they go out to dinner, but Dani had refused. ‘It would seem like we were celebrating something,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t have to.’ ‘Mom, you and Dad only take us out when something special happens. If you want to treat us to dinner, then order takeout or something. But the idea of going out just doesn’t seem quite right under the circumstances.’ ‘All right,’ Lynn said, disappointed. ‘Do you want pizza or Chinese?’.