Natalia Vale, The Walrus

Is that…Natalia Vale?, I thought, not believing it.

The ugly duckling of my senior class had transformed into a bombshell. Her ratty, unkempt hair now glistened and flowed straight down to her perfectly sculpted butt. She’d lost about two hundred pounds since I’d last seen her on graduation day ten years ago. I remember telling her that her gown could double as a table cloth after she finished with it.

The girl I nicknamed “The Walrus” stood before me wearing a tight black dress that accentuated the slenderest curves of her athletic body. She turned, glanced in my direction, and smiled. All eyes that had been on her turned to me.

I felt myself turning red.

Natalia waved to me and made her way across the room. I felt my knees go weak and took a huge swig of liquid courage before she made it to me.

“Hello Mark, it’s nice to see you again,” Natalia greeted with a smile that brightened the room. We spent the rest of the night drinking and flirting until the reunion ended and we stumbled to the back seat of my car.

In the midst of our drunken groping, Natalia whispered something into my ear. It was venous in its tone and sounded nothing like English. I began convulsing in excruciating pain. Natalia smiled widely and said: “Breast implants, braces, liposuction, corset, high heels, waxing. You will never understand the pain you put me through. In time, you will learn the hard way,” Natalia said spitefully. I blacked out right after.

I awoke alone in my car, pain free, but two hundred pounds heavier than the night before.

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