harrytomlomsom:

He first saw her at the side of the road. Sitting beside the fruit cart, stacked high. He exchanged a few words with her father, he was given a blessing and they were away.
He drew the outlines of her face; her eyes, her button nose, her lips.
She was beautiful.
Soft shades of green circled her eyes.
They spent hours talking that night, she was a good listener. He told her all about his past. He had grown up on a farm, like most people in this part of the country.
He heard her tell him how she, too, had grown up in a field. She grew up fast. She had grown in the dirt, no money to her name. Tethered to the rest of her family. Even in the tight-knit community she had no individuality.
She had struggled with body issues, she thought herself fat, round.
He thought this was true but he didn’t tell her, while he liked the biggest ones best he didn’t think it would help her psyche. He liked them juicy.
Over the next few days he never left her side, she rolled with him everywhere and he loved it.
He loved her.
He’d heard her say how much she loved him.
He knew that they would spend the rest of their lives together.
One evening he invited his friends over to meet her.
Everyone was a little confused but the night was a success, nonetheless.
That is…
until.
He walked in to the kitchen, she’d been there since the party started, sitting on the counter.
His line of sight obscured by the guests he grew panicked.
He rushed over to see the thing he had always feared.
A knife, deep in her skin.
The juice within oozed from the deep wound.
He looked around.
His friends… his best friends feasted on her soft, pink flesh, laughing and sharing stories over the body, drinks in hand.
 
 
I can’t think of how to end this but the girl is a watermelon.