In Beautiful Shadows:

“Good morning, Dara,” whispers my creepy neighbor from his window. “You got to bed really late last night.”
“I guess it was not just me,” I replied, leaving the bedroom before he could say another word. This guy started to really creep me out. If he says one more word to me today, I swear … “This house is a nightmare,” I mumbled low enough so that he wouldn’t hear.
It would be redundant to have a local newspaper when one could just step outside and ask the reporter next door, “Hey, what’s going on today?”
“Oh, last night one of the guys said he saw Lila kissing the Big Boss, who always drives his big Mercedes late at night. We always suspected them to be together, but nobody had proof. But tonight there will be lot of drama because the Big Boss’s wife heard the news.”
I wonder who told her, I thought to myself while trying to look distracted so that Mousy didn’t read my expression. Anything I wanted to know, I could ask him. Mousy got his name because of his pointy nose and lips. Mousy was about my height, but he was so skinny that I wondered whether he ever ate. He was very useful, always running errands for someone in the neighborhood.
“And by the way,” he added just before leaving, “there are rumors that the president might not live to see the end of his term again. There have been a lot of attempts to shoot him or burn the palace altogether.”
Mousy really didn’t have to fill me in on that last detail. Who cared if the president got shot? As much as I loved this beautiful island, I wish it had never been discovered—then maybe we wouldn’t be having one selfish government after another.  Those prétendu intellectuals need to take their suits off and go under a few palm trees, drink some coconut water, and dive in the beautiful beaches and leave the country alone.
I kinda liked Mousy, though. Last week he told me to be careful with the guys drinking by my house late at night because one of them might have suggested doing “certain things” that he could not, for the sake of his life, reveal to me. But I was not afraid of the “certain things” this guy was planning. Mousy did not tell me which one of them, but I had an idea who, and he was not so tough. The idea of me fighting in the dark for my life while he was doing something I would probably enjoy really entertained me—or would I fight back? I wonder what he would say if I visited him tonight …?

At sundown, I slid a pair of white jeans with a sateen lace top for the sake of hiding something. I sat down on my bed rethinking my decision, but the look on his face had been too vivid for me to miss. I did not even bother fixing my curly, stubborn hair in the mirror; I was sure it would pass for a style. I walked past Ninnie’s room, and her married boyfriend glanced at me through the half-open door. It took a few second to unlock my eyes from his because I could not believe the expression I read on the pervert’s face.  I wanted to wave and say, “Hey, perv,” but I gave him the most honest smile. I did not know how I did it; I just did. Maybe someone else resided deep inside me, and she was better off there because the world was wicked enough.
Minutes later, I stood in front of the wooden door and breathed before I knocked. Junior opened the door, and I felt so satisfied when his jaw almost hit the floor. There it was. I did not say hi—I waltzed my way in the room by gently removing his hands on the doorknob. “I heard you said you wanted to rip me apart,” I said as I turned around and faced him with the most inquisitive stare.
“I-I’m not sure what you mean,” he barely mutters before swallowing a mouthful of saliva.
“Well, Junior, I don’t know how to say this, but your wish will be a reality tonight.” I took a deep breath, smiled, and walked one step closer to his face. “Junior, I would like for you to rape me.”