ᶜᵒᵒᵗᶦᵉˢ ʳ ʳᵉᵃˡ....

They say cooties aren't real but I know that's not true. I happen to suffer from them but luckily I’m asymptomatic. I thought I had bad luck at first, and after that, had suffered a strange set of coincidences. Coincidental things would happen way too often and I'm there, in the middle of it all, wondering if it has something to do with me. That's when I realized I suffered from cooties and it was probably best that I isolate myself.

The first time it happened was when I kissed a boy and a day later they found him at the bottom of a well. Nobody knows how he got in there, but he was dead alright, they brought him up and wondered if he jumped in himself or fell. Nobody knew. And the next boy who kissed me? A week later he crashed his car. Funny thing about this one was that nobody else was on the road at the time, he was sober, it was the middle of the day. He just.... somehow veered off the road and straight into a tree.

But I had to live my life. I can't say I had the best taste in men, so maybe these were just broken individuals that I had chosen poorly, and got wrapped up in their damaged lives. But after it happened a third time, I had to question my own involvement in these twisted events. The third boy I kissed was lovely. I met him through the horticulture group at school and we appreciated the same flowers. He knew we were hitting it off so he asked me to join him on a walk sometime, and later took me to a secret spot of his. It overlooked the whole town and was beautiful, and this is where he made his move and kissed me. It was so gentle and he was so humble. We held hands together as the sun went down before he walked me home. A real gentleman. They found him the next day, well, parts of him anyway. Not 24 hours after we kissed he went onto the highway bridge, wrapped some rope around his neck and the rest of it to a concrete block and threw it off the bridge into traffic. Took his fucking head right off and nearly killed somebody driving below.

So I stopped kissing boys after that. Now I just make long furbies alone in my apartment and sell them on Etsy for tons of money. You wouldn't believe what people would pay for these things. It's a strange life but it's mine and I love it, just me and my furbies. No boys allowed (for their own protection).