A Letter for Li Peng

by ferret

Li Peng,

I know my parents told you that I won’t be coming on the class fieldtrip to the Expo because I’m sick, but it’s not true. You’re my best friend in the world, and I want you to know the truth about why I’m not coming. But please promise you won’t tell anyone.

I’m a wicked person. My parents keep telling me so, and I think that they’re probably right. But there’s this part of me that thinks they are wrong, and I’m not so wicked. This makes me more wicked. That’s the truth.

Do you remember the card for the Dark Woodland Elf? The one that Xiao Bai always plays? The character can make himself stronger than almost any other character, but only by sacrificing the trees which retain his power? He gets stronger, but it doesn’t last. I’m afraid I’m like that Dark Woodland Elf. My parents built me this forest, and they told me not to destroy it, but I want to tear it all down just the same.

Last night, my mom picked me up from my English lesson and said that we’d be going straight from there to meet my dad for dinner at a fancy restaurant. When we got there I saw that everyone was my parents age. It was a bunch of my mom’s fashion friends. A lot of them had funny haircuts that made them look like the barber had sneezed while cutting their hair.

I told this to my dad when we left the restaurant, and he laughed, but my mom became very angry. She said I was just too young to understand. When I asked her why my dad laughed too, she just said that he was too young to understand as well. We all laughed. We were happy, Li Peng. If the night had ended there, I would have been happy, and I wouldn’t have to pretend that I’m sick today and miss the Expo. But it didn’t end that way, and now I’m writing you this goddamned letter.

After dinner, my parents said that we’d be going to a fashion show. I’d never been to one, and to tell you the truth, I’ve never wanted to go to one. The whole thing always sounded like something stupid and boring that my mom did with her friends. A bunch of strange people looking at bad dresses or something else nobody wants to actually wear. Stupid. S-T-U-P-I-D. I told them I didn’t wan to go, but they said I had to. We argued for a minute, but then I just gave up. I figured I could just sit there and study English while it was happening.

The whole room was filled with all kinds of people with awful haircuts. A lot of them were worst than those at dinner. I think some of them must’ve had blind people cut their hair. Some of their clothes were just as bad, probably designed by blind people too.

Anyway, we sat down in the front row, right next to the catwalk where the models were supposed to walk. My mom gave me a program that talked about the show. I sat there and read it as the show started. It was a bunch of pictures of women in strange clothes. They described them with really fancy language, using all kinds of words I didn’t understand. I tried to read it for a minute through the flashing lights and the electronic music, but I just got bored and gave up. So I started looking at the models walking in front of me.

Li Peng, I want to tell you something. I’ve looked at lots of girls, and I thought they were pretty, but I never looked at a girl this way before. This girl walking in front of me was wearing a dress on her body that was tight and short. It was so tight that I could see her nipples poking out through the fabric. The bottom was so short I could almost see her ass. Here legs were just dangling there long and thin, swishing there in front of me. I started to think about licking them.

I could tell you the color of her dress and the fabric, but I don’t want to. It’s not important, and the only reason I know about the neon-pink leopard-print on her dress, with rivets stitched in the seams is because I desperately tried to keep thinking about it to distract myself from her body underneath it. I looked up her dress in the program and studied it like it was a schoolbook. But it didn’t help. There was this part of me that didn’t want to be distracted, and after a moment of fighting I gave into it, and I just accepted it.

My heart was racing. My skin was hot. I had a huge boner, and it wouldn’t go away.

Have you ever had a boner in one of those track suits they make us wear to school? It’s fucking impossible to hide it, and god, I had to hide it. I was right next to the catwalk, and the spotlight was just inches away from me. I was sure that any moment the light would just turn and show me there in the darkness fidgeting with my boner, so I put my program on top of it and tried to press down on it to make it go away. But it didn’t help.

As more and more of these beautiful, long-legged girls walked by, especially the ones with round-asses, I just fidgeted more and more. I swear I was shaking, trying not to think about what was underneath all of that leopard-print.

Suddenly, my mom noticed me, and I think she knew what was going on. She gasped, and then hit me and tried to pull the program off of my crotch. But I didn’t want to let go. So we struggled over it until it flew out onto the catwalk in front of us in front of the proud-faced, small-titted, but round-assed model strutting by.

She slipped on the program and toppled to the side, landing right in my lap.

Okay. Li Peng. What I’m tell you now is probably the most embarrassing thing in my life, and I want you to know that I didn’t do it on purpose, but still there’s this part of me, that wicked Dark Woodland Elf part of me that wishes I did.

When she landed on my lap, her round ass was right there, rubbing against my boner. I could feel the soft skin of her back brush against my face. I could smell her too. She smelled sweet like candy or something. It was the happiest moment of my life so far. Without a doubt. I must’ve been grinning like a goddamned idiot.

After that, everything went to shit.

The model jumped up and started pointing and screaming that I was a pervert. The whole show stopped. They stopped the music and put on all the lights. My mother started crying and screaming and hitting me. My dad started yelling at me, and I could hear people saying all kinds of things about me. “Filthy little pervert.” “Disgusting amoral pig.” “Lowlife twit.” “His parents should be ashamed.” It was awful.

All I remember doing for the next five minutes was saying I was sorry over and over. I didn’t mean to do it. It wasn’t my fault, but nobody believed me.

On the way home, my parents kept saying how shameful I was, what a disgrace I was. And I believed them.

I wish I didn’t have a boner when I looked at those women. I guess it made me wicked. The worst part of it all is that I can’t stop thinking about it and feeling the same way. I can’t stop thinking about how great that model felt pressed up against my body. Even if it was an accident, even if it was shameful, I want it to happen again. I’m wicked. I know it. I’ve destroyed my family, and there’s this part of me that doesn’t care. I keep thinking that one moment of happiness might have been worth it all. Maybe I really am a Dark Woodland Elf.

I really hope you’ll still be my friend. You’ll always be mine. I hope you have fun at the Expo.

Xiao Wang

P.S. Seriously. Please don’t tell anybody.