Wednesday, February 06, 2013
The Mystery of the Stolen Panties
The Mystery of the Stolen
Panties
by
Phoenix Hocking
Pug O'Donnell's life of
crime began when he was just a lad, and out of necessity. Well, he
considered it necessary anyway.
It was hunger that drove
him to his first filch. Times were tough. His mum worked two and
sometimes three jobs, but with six children there often was not
enough to share and Pug was the youngest. He would watch as the bowl
went 'round the table to the older kids first, and when the bowl came
to him it was often empty, or nearly so.
So Pug learned to steal.
At first, Pug only stole
food. Sometimes he stole money to buy food. The problem was, he was
good at it. If a housewife left a pie on the window sill to cool, it
was gone before the steam from the pie had a chance to dissipate. If
someone dropped a penny or a nickel, it was gone almost before it hit
the ground. Any wallet left unattended for more than a moment was
considerably lighter when the owner next lifted it, if Pug was
around.
So, Pug grew up, stealing
food, or money, and then whatever he felt like stealing. What was
born out of necessity became a hobby, then a game, and then an
obsession.
In the summer of his
fourteenth year, Pug discovered girls. He watched them constantly.
He liked to see how they moved, what they did, what they talked about
amongst themselves.
There was one girl he
particularly liked to watch. Her name was Amanda and she was
beautiful. She was outgoing and smart. She had long, curly red hair
and a beautiful figure. Her laugh was like an angel singing and her
smile lit up the room.
Pug loved her. He loved
her with all the love and devotion a fourteen year old boy can
muster. He followed her when he didn't think she was watching. He
knew where she lived, what time she got up in the morning, when she
went to bed at night.
Amanda, for her part, knew
nothing of being stalked by Pug. To her, Pug was a child, a harmless
child who had a crush on her. And Amanda was sixteen, and far too
old to even notice someone like Pug.
Pug became obsessed with
Amanda. And if he couldn't have her, he at least wanted something
that belonged to her. He wanted something intimate, something that
had touched her skin in that most private of places. He wanted her
underwear.
He watched, and he waited.
He almost got caught sneaking into the girl's gym while she was in
the swimming pool, but sneak in he did, and snuck back out again with
his prize clutched close to his chest inside his shirt.
The story that someone had
stolen a girl's underwear out of the locker room took the school by
storm. Who would do such a thing? And why? The Principal had each
student open their locker, but the underwear was never found. How
could it be? Pug kept them inside his shirt, close to his heart.
Eventually, the hubbub died
down. It was fluke and everybody went about their business. Pug was
good at thievery, you remember, so nobody even suspected him.
Pug took his prize home.
The panties were yellow and lacy. He would sometimes take them from
his hiding place and just look at them, running his fingers onto the
silky fabric, and dream.
One day, a few weeks after
his theft of Amanda's underwear, he thought perhaps he'd been found
out. Amanda had begun to look at him strangely. When she thought
Pug wasn't looking, she would just look at him, with a quizical look
on her face. Pug was afraid. What if she turned him in? Boys who
stole a girl's underwear would be looked at as some sort of pervert.
He didn't want that.
But what could he do with
the panties? He couldn't destroy them; that was simply unthinkable.
He couldn't bury them, and have them be defiled by dirt and mud. He
certainly couldn't give them back. And he couldn't keep them any
longer.
On his way home from school
one day, he saw a store. It was a cute store, a ladies store. And
then he knew what he would do. He wanted somebody to take care of
those panties, even though he couldn't do it himself any longer.
So, one morning, early,
early, before he went to school, he stopped by the store and put
Amanda's panties on the door handle, then ran away.
When the proprietor of the
store came to work that morning, she found the underwear hanging on
the handle of the door. Later, she posted a photo on Facebook,
saying, “Someone left their panties on the front door of my job.
This is a new one for me. I don't even know what to say about this.”
Well, now you know.
# posted by Phoenix MaryGrace Hocking : 12:03 PM
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