Reassessing My Life - Pt. 2
Sometimes, you just marry the wrong person.
Cassandra was ready on time, dressed in a blood-red choker, black minidress, biker jacket, and a pair of heavy boots with enough buckles, studs, and zippers to make a Cenobite proud. Her jet-black hair was hanging loose down her back, and red lipstick and cat-eye mascara with an eye of Horus accent finished the look. She gave me a little peck on the cheek as she greeted me, and we were on our way. The party was bigger tha...