Anthea s baby 1
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The Last Train free porn video
The Last Train - Lyodor Tolstoyevski
I saw her a few benches down, waiting for the same train I was. I knew
we were going on the same train because there was only one left for the
night. Part of me wanted to talk to her, wanted to take the euphoria
that was bottled up inside of me and express it in conversation, but she
was this small pixie of a thing, and I've learned by now that most girls
don't appreciate being approached by a guy who just earned himself a
scholarship to play center for a Division 1 basketball team. I don't
like it, but I know I look intimidating.
I check Facebook on my phone. Someone's already put up pictures from
the graduation party. I haven't even left downtown yet, and one of my
classmates already managed to get home. Crazy. Maybe I should take
pictures of the subway while I'm here. It could be the last time I ever
see this station. I might want to remember tonight.
I get out of Facebook and switch to the camera, hold the viewscreen out
in front of my face. Then I frown. Bad lighting, I can't see anything.
I turn to the right, but that's worse. I turn to the left, and
everything's still dark, except the girl. She comes out clear as day in
the preview. So I take a picture, stuff my phone back into my pocket,
and stretch my legs out a little.
"You know, some cultures believe that if you take someone's picture, you
steal their soul."
I looked up. I hadn't heard her walking over. With her standing and me
sitting, we were at about eye level. She seemed comfortable, and that
made me comfortable. I smiled. "I must have a lot of people's souls,
then."
"No, it only works with someone who believes it." She winked at me.
"Can I see your phone a second?"
"Why?"
"I just want to see how I came out."
I shrugged and handed over the phone. "Just don't delete the picture,
alright?"
"Oh, don't worry," she took it with a smile, "I wouldn't dream of it."
Then the strange things started happening. She moved her finger on the
screen, but not like she was switching from picture to picture, more
like she was drawing something, and then she blew on my phone and I
started to feel funny, like the air I was breathing was full of fumes.
But I didn't smell anything.
"Do you smell someth-" I cut myself off. She was taking a camera out of
her purse. I felt my heart rate rise at the sight of it. "Are you
going to take my picture?"
"Yeah, I figure it's only fair. You're not afraid, are you? The soul
thing only happens to people who believe it." She brought the camera up
to her eye. "But I guess you do believe it now."
She snapped the picture and I felt like there was something missing in
my gut, like there wasn't anything behind my six pack. But it was
easier to breathe now. I looked at her, confused. "What did you do?"
"I took your soul," she said bluntly. "But don't worry, it was just to
make room inside you for the soul you took from me."
"What?"
"Just breathe in. Everything will be fine in a few minutes."
I didn't want to listen to her, but it's not like I could stop
breathing. But she was right. Every breath came easier, and every
breath made that hole in my center a bit smaller. I looked up at her.
Wait, I looked up at her?
"What's going on?"
"Equilibrium is going on." Her words were calm and smooth. "Your soul
is everything about you. Everything. Your family, your memories, what
you look like, everything. Your body is just a vessel. And now your
body is a vessel for my soul."
I looked down at myself. My whole body was smaller. "What about my
soul?"
"Don't worry, I'll watch over it as if it were my own. Because as of
right now, it is." She touched the screen on the back of her camera and
sucked in a big breath, and then she was a foot taller. I wasn't used
to seeing anyone who was bigger than me, let alone a woman. Her clothes
still fit her, she still looked the same, she just towered over me like
I was a kid.
I stood up, part in protest, part to make up for the height difference.
I reached her chin. "Give me my phone back."
"Do you think your soul is in there? Nothing is in either machine
anymore. Both of our vessels are full." She put everything down on the
bench. "They just haven't completely adapted yet. Let's speed up the
process a bit."
Then she took a deep breath, shot up another few inches, and picked me
up by the armpits. I couldn't remember the last time it was even
possible for someone to do that to me. I just panicked, tried to get
out, but she held me tightly and lifted me to her face. For a second I
thought she was going to kiss me, maybe even rape me, but all she did
was press my mouth against hers and blow.
I could feel myself filling. Not my lungs, though. Those just seemed
to accept more and more air without any problems. But the hole, that
emptiness that sat just below my lungs grew smaller and smaller as this
amazon blew into my face.
She finally put me down and I had to steady myself. Nothing felt right,
from the grip that my feet gave me with the floor to a pulling in my
chest. I looked down to see a body I wasn't familiar with. A smaller
one. A female one. The same one that had been sitting a few benches
down from me just ten minutes before. I looked up to see a pair of
breasts, bigger but identical to the set I had just received. I didn't
even reach her chest now.
I staggered back, started to hyperventilate. I couldn't remember ever
being that scared, ever being physically afraid of anything, but a voice
in my head told me that whatever this woman wanted to do to me I
wouldn't be able to stop her, and I just could not get that voice to
shut up.
"Great." She had that same calm voice. "Your physical is done, and the
major mental stuff should be happening now. It won't be long if you
keep breathing like that."
She was right, I could feel myself filling up with each breath, felt new
thoughts in my mind.
I brought one hand to my chest and leaned against the wall with the
other. The cleavage beneath my palm felt familiar. "I know where you
live," I gasped out, looking at the end of the hall, at the floor, at
anything but her.
"No," she said. "You know where you live. You've definitely forgotten
where I live by now. Remember, the soul has everything. Just keep
breathing."
I tried to remember my real house. I couldn't. I tried to remember my
real mom. I couldn't. I tried to remember the college that just gave
me a full-ride scholarship. The name of my high school. The name of my
best friend. My own name. Nothing. Tears started to form in my eyes.
"Hey, don't cry. It'll ruin your makeup." It was a deeper voice this
time. My voice. I looked up, and up, and what I saw was myself. My
old self. He took the cell phone from off of the bench, pressed the
screen a couple times, then showed it to me.
"Ugh, I an barely see anything in that last picture I took," he said.
"I thought I got a decent shot of you sitting, but the lighting in this
station is pretty bad."
"No!" I sounded like a small child. "Don't try to act like me! Stop
it! Stop stealing my life!"
He looked down at me. "You're the one who stole mine, remember? But
don't worry. In a few minutes you won't even remember who you used to
be."
"But then I'll know about souls. I'll get mine back." I was desperate.
"No, that's not going to happen. I know enough to put up some
safeguards. Right now you've only got 98% of a soul, which is more than
most people manage to keep by your age so you should feel lucky. But
the really important stuff stays with me." He held the phone out so I
could see the last picture taken. "Look real close at this photo. Just
concentrate." It was mostly darkness, just the faint outline of a girl
sitting on a bench. I could feel myself calming down as my eyes got
lost in the line of light. Almost a halo. A halo that looked like me?
"Did you take this picture of me when I wasn't looking?"
The tall guy grinned. "Something like that. I hope you don't mind.
I'm moving out of the city soon, and I wanted to take some memories with
me."
"It's cool." When this guy walked over I was a little nervous. Alone
in the subway, who knows what could happen? But the more he talked to
me, the more comfortable I felt around him. The butterflies in my
stomach were only flapping a little bit now.
The train pulled in just then, so I turned to pick up my purse and my
camera and hurried over to the opening doors that the tall guy was just
stepping through.
The car was empty aside from the two of us. I sat down across from him
and looked down at the camera now in my lap. I almost wanted to take
his picture, but something told me not to. I like photography, but I've
never really liked taking pictures of people. I'm not sure why, I just
don't remember ever doing it. All my pictures are just inanimate
objects. Just things.
Charlize
- 15.07.2022
- 15
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