I’ll try and describe the horror of the crux in the last passage I just wrote.
It’s about a girl who was used.
It’s about a photography teacher.
It’s about a pregnancy.
It’s for a genre called New Adult.
Thirty six is a photography teacher in Los Angeles who has spent a year lying to his student so that he can get sex. He’s a common liar, and he knows he is never going to get caught in that lie because she is going to keep her mouth shut. He knows that she can’t go anywhere. He doesn’t care if he made a baby. He just wants to be rid of a problem, and he thinks that shoving $500 at her is going to absolve him forever. He has no idea how much he has hurt Natasha Evergreen. She will never be able to have children, because of what he has done. He raped her soul, and he tore her heart to pieces in one gesture, because he lied to her. He had said it on the first day of class, hadn’t he? He had told her he was going to seduce her because in reality he had no life. In reality he was nothing. He was a piece of meaninglessness swallowed by the city of Los Angeles. He wasn’t even a human being. He had told her he wanted to plant his seed inside of her every time they had sex. But he didn’t mean it. It never occurs to Natasha Evergreen at twenty two, that she will wield the knife that cuts out his heart until many years later.
Here is the passage:
John Sandman was waiting outside her apartment on Red Rose Way when Natasha Evergreen got home from school. She held back her tears when she saw him.
“I have to go to work tonight.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes I do. I have to be there at 5:00.”
“You can call in.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Yes you can. Do you think I drove all the way up here to see you for nothing?”
“John.”
“Aren’t you going to let me in?”
“Come in,” she said, turning the key in the lock.
“Our tree,” he said. It took him only one minute to start unbuttoning her clothes and then he pushed her down underneath it again.
She looked up into eyes trying to read them for anything, anything, but they were blank orbs staring into hers. They were like icebergs as he proceeded to make love to her if that’s what you could call it. It was more like he felt it was his right after that long, long drive all the way from Los Angeles.
“Well?” he said, “What do you plan to do about this problem?”
All of a sudden the gulf that really existed between them was as apparent as the sort of chasms one finds in the Grand Canyon. It was that big.
What could she say?
Natasha Evergreen said nothing. In her heart he had already given his answer, and the gulf of his betrayal was a chasm she wished to throw herself into. Dying seemed the only way out. That is how much Natasha Evergreen loved John Sandman.
There was another side to all of this too. What Tim had said, and what the counselor had said. She seemed to have two choices, if she thought about it that way.
“I’ve got to go to work,” she said. “I’ve got to get ready.”
“I’m heading back then,” he said.
“This ought to take care of it.”
He dropped a big handful of bills on the table. “This is $500, Natasha.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.
Natasha carried the money into her room and put it in the closet, high on a shelf. Even then, Natasha Evergreen was still hoping he would change his mind. But he hadn’t. He didn’t even care. And this was the hardest thing she would ever realize in her life. She thought he was in love with her, and that he had meant every word he had said. But he didn’t. The pain was like a hundred thousand daggers in her heart.
VALENTINE BONNAIRE - WRITER 