Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

Erica’s grip was firm, her presence a shield against the swell of evening commuters that flowed around us like a living current. We navigated the streets of our home town Salem. The tree’s still a lush green despite the impending fall.

“Come on, Jay,” Erica urged, pulling me forward with a tug that spoke volumes of her inherent assertiveness. I stumbled slightly, my steps faltering to match her purposeful march. She glanced back at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Listen, Jason,” she began, her tone taking on gravity that contradicted our serene surroundings. “I need to set something straight with you.” Her voice held the rasp of conviction, a sound that could command attention in any room or, in this case, an open street.

“Is this about my fentanyl question?” I replied, trying to keep the casual cadence in my voice despite the sudden shift in her demeanor.

“I don’t deal, okay? Never have, never will.” Her words were sharp, punctuated by the faintest curl of disdain.

The earnestness in her declaration drew a nod from me, my mind acknowledging the gravity behind her stance. It seems she really want’s me to think of her as upstanding. “Okay, I mean i wouldn’t have cared if you did.”

A pause lingered between us, filled only by the ambient chatter of passersby and the distant bark of a dog. Then, as if compelled by some internal debate, she added, “And hard drugs? Forget it. Not my scene.”

‘saying doesn’t specifically do hard drugs implies she’s probably a pothead then. But I wonder if she really hasn’t done anything else.’

“Never?” The question escaped me before I could temper my curiosity. There was an edge to our conversation now, one that flirted dangerously with the boundaries of our new banter.

“Doing coke once doesn’t count,” she blurted out, her gaze fixed firmly ahead. It was an admission delivered with such nonchalance that it caught me off guard. “And I only ever snorted K a couple of times, But that doesn’t count either because I didn’t K-hole.’

‘Katamine? Horse tranq? Where the fuck do people even find that?’

“HAHAHAHAHA!” I couldn’t suppress the laugh. It bubbled up from a place of disbelief mixed with surprise. But beneath the laughter, my mind raced, red flags unfurling in rapid succession.

‘I’m happy she’s uninhibited, but I’ll have to use my body as a means to keep her on a good path.’ I think of her future.

Erica’s blonde hair swished as she turned to face me, her expression inscrutable. “What? That’s not even that bad!” she said, the lightness in her tone failing to mask the undercurrent of defensiveness.

“Right, I don’t think so either,” I echoed her words.

‘I think this is a green flag, if anything, maybe? It means i’ll be able to get her to try weird stuff with me easily. Granted I’m not usually a risk taker.’

My heart hammered in my chest as the scent of Erica’s perfume mixed with the still-warm September air. I felt the gentle pressure of her hand in mine, a lifeline mooring me to the moment. We approached the park, its swings and slides casting long shadows in the fading light.

“Let’s sit for a bit,” I suggested, my voice excited. It was an impulse, a break from the passive role I had become accustomed to in the past day. I tugged gently at Erica’s hand, guiding her to a bench near the sidewalk that bordered the road, our shoes scuffing on the gravel path.

We sat down on the weathered wood, overlooking the park where children dashed about in their last moments of play before dinner called them home. I turned to Erica, her blue eyes reflecting the afternoon sky. My smile was nervous, flickering across my lips like a hesitant flame.

“Erica,” I said, and it felt like a leap into the unknown. “I—”

But words failed me; instead, I leaned in, closing the gap between us, planting my lips on hers. The kiss was awkward at first, my movements unsure. It was my first attempt at leading, at being the one to initiate our intimacy, but it felt unnaturally staged, like a clumsy actor in a poorly rehearsed play.

‘I want her to know that I want to kiss her too, But I am not good at leading like this.’ I laugh at myself in my mind.

Her response was immediate and fierce. Erica’s hand found the back of my head, her fingers threading through my hair with surprising tenderness, given their strength. She pulled me closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that consumed any lingering uncertainty within me. Her tongue pressed insistently against mine, seeking, exploring, claiming.

I surrendered to the sensation, a light moan escaping me as Erica kissed me with the greed of a dragon hoarding a fuck load of gold. Any thought of leading, of reversing our roles, melted away under the intensity of her affection. There was no room for doubt or hesitation. There was only Erica, her desire, and the blissful oblivion she offered.

‘Is this love?’

In the cocoon of her embrace, the world outside, the kids in the park, the cars passing by, and even the encroaching chill of the evening all faded to nothingness. I lost myself in the fervor of Erica’s kiss, in the warmth of her body pressed against mine, and in the simple, profound joy of being wanted so completely. Her dominance was a force of nature, wild and untamed. I was utterly at its mercy.

Suddenly, the shrill cry of police sirens pierced the bubble of our shared world. My eyes fluttered open to the harsh glare of red and blue lights strobing through the evening air. Erica’s blue eyes snapped to the source before I could even process the intrusion. Her pupils contracted to sharp points, animalistic and alert.

“What the fuck,” she muttered under her breath, though her lips barely left mine. The cop’s SUV drove past us, its presence ominous and unsettling, but as it disappeared into the distance, Erica’s attention returned to me. She resumed the kiss with a fervor that seemed to defy the world’s intrusion, her hands roaming possessively over my back as if staking her claim against all who dared interrupt.

But the universe, it seemed, refused to be ignored. The ominous growl of an engine reversing caught our ears, and the cop car rolled back towards us, its spotlight-like headlights locking onto our bench like a predator fixing on prey. With a suddenness that startled me, Erica broke away, her body shifting in front of me as a shield.

“Stay behind me,” she ordered, her voice low and protective. It was not a suggestion but a command. The fierceness in her posture, the way she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, betrayed a readiness to confront whatever or whoever was approaching.

I peered around her, confused and disoriented by the rapid shift from passion to peril. “What’s wrong? It’s just a cop car.”

Erica glanced back at me, her eyes flaring with a mix of fear and defiance that I’d never seen before. “I don’t trust cops,” she said, her voice a growl that matched the snarl of the idling vehicle before us.

It suddenly dawned on me. “Oh, because Acab?” I think back to how much shit my mom got during that whole era. It was pretty funny.

“What the fuck is Acab.” She retorted back to me.

“Huh? That whole ‘All cops are bad’ movement. Remember?” I was lost. How could someone our age not remember Acab?

The red and blue lights of the SUV painted our faces in stark, flashing tones as the window rolled down with an electric hum. The intensity of the moment escalated when a familiar voice shattered the quiet of the evening air.

“Jason Parker, get in this fucking car right fucking now!”

‘Oh my god, How did I not recognize Mom’s squad car.’

Erica’s body tensed before me, her protective stance faltering for a split second. She had misunderstood the nature of the threat. It wasn’t just any officer of the law. It was my mother, wielding her authority like a weapon that could cut through any facade of rebellion.

“Jason?” Erica’s voice was a whisper lost amidst the chaos, her fierce demeanor dissolving into confusion.

“That’s my mom,” I murmured, a knot forming in my stomach. The realization sent a shiver through her as I watched the gears turn behind those soulful blue eyes as she processed this new information.

“Ms. Parker,” Erica began, her tone shifting to one of reluctant respect mixed with annoyance. “Sorry, I was just walking him home.” She stepped aside, but not without casting a lingering glance at me.

Mom’s glare sliced through the dimming twilight, her posture rigid in the uniform that seemed too much a part of her very being. “Walking him home?” she retorted, her voice dripping with heavy skepticism. Her stern gaze darted from Erica to me, and the air tingled with the electricity of impending confrontation. “It’s past curfew. We’re not discussing this here. Jason, now.”

‘Past curfew? It’s only like 3:30 pm.’

I hesitated, torn between the warmth of Erica’s hand still enveloping mine and the iron command in my mother’s tone.

Apologizing with my eyes, I slowly disentangled my fingers from Erica’s grip.

The sharp beep of the squad car underscored the urgency in her demand, a mechanical punctuation that brokered no arguments.

‘Jesus Christ, Mom, what the fuck.’

“Sorry about this,” I mumbled to Erica, trying to offer a smile that felt as twisted as the emotions churning inside me. Her expression hardened slightly. The fierce glint in her eyes softened momentarily by what could have been a disappointment or perhaps deeper concern.

“It’s okay, Jay,” she said quietly, her voice tight with emotions she wasn’t fully displaying. “Be safe.”

As I slid into the passenger seat of the squad car, Mom didn’t start driving right away. Instead, she sat in silence for a few moments that stretched endlessly between us. The dashboard lights cast deep shadows across her face, making her features appear even more frightening.

“Mom,” I began cautiously. “Erica’s not—”

“That was the girl who saved you, yeah? Erica Knight?” Mom’s voice grated with anger as she looked at me with vengeful eyes.

“Yeah. Let me guess, you think she’s a bad kid?” I spoke, annoyed.

“I mean that girl is definitely troubled. I’ve seen in her lock up before.” Mom for the first time I’ve seen gets a little awkward. “Uhh but I knew her mom in highschool. Really sweet girl.” Mom had regret in her eyes. “I wasn’t very nice to her.” She sighed.

Her eyes went back to being strict and giving off her typical annoyed aura. “Regardless, I’m trying to protect you from people who might want more from you than you’re ready to give.”

“But mom—”

“Let’s just get home.” She shifted the car into drive, pulling away from the curb smoothly.

***

Once the evening came around the family gathered at the familiar kitchen table we were having our second family meeting in two days. Which is actually a record for us.

“I asked Erica out today,” I spoke firmly.

Brooke eyed me in horror and Mom was already nursing beer number 4. Mom never drank in my last life but apparently when I told her that was her fourth beer she said “Only losers count beers.” and then she just gave me an angry stare.

‘Alright, cool, so my mom might be an alcoholic dad now. Hype new dynamic.’ I decided to put this thought off for later.

Mom’s expression was ice, sharp, and unyielding as the winter frost. “You’re not ready, Jason,” she said, her voice low but filled with a tumultuous storm. “You literally just got raped Yesterday.”

‘You know? Good on her for not denying it or brushing it aside. Just a shame I have to pretend myself to take it seriously.’

Brooke shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her hazel eyes darting between Mom and me. She had always been one to pick her battles carefully, weighing each word like precious cargo before letting them loose into the world. But usually, Brooke had my back.

“Jason, maybe Mom has a point,” Brooke interjected gently, the concern etched deeply into her brow. Her voice softened as she spoke to me, trying to bridge the gap that Mom’s stern demeanor had widened. “You’ve been through a lot more than anyone should ever have to endure. Erica... she might be great, but is it the right time?” She spoke that last question as if she had an agenda. Like Erica was someone i absolutely cannot be with.

Mom set down her beer with a clank that seemed to echo off the kitchen walls. “Jason, for god’s sake, your head is fucked too, remember?” she said sharply. “And now you’re jumping into something head first when you’re vulnerable. People can take advantage; they can manipulate your emotions.”

Brooke nodded in agreement, casting me a sympathetic glance that only served to heighten my resentment. “She’s right, Jason. Think about it. The dynamics with Erica are complicated as is. You need space... time to heal.”

“Im not fucking broken!” I yelled at Brooke and Mom. I hate the idea of anyone thinking I’m some broken little guy who can’t fend for himself. I’m a sub in the sheets, but I’m just a regular guy in the streets.

‘Granted, if Erica thinks I’m broken, that’s different.’

My mother slammed her hand down on the table. “Language Jason!. You make out with that girl for five minutes and now your some kinda rebel?” She barked at me.

Brooke’s eyes flicked over to me, and I could see pain in them. “They were making out?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Our mother nodded. “Yeah, I saw your brother just sitting there getting completely woman-handled like he was a slut,” she said, shaking her head in annoyance. “I know Erica saved you, Jason, but come on, have some decency. You were at a park!”

Brooke’s gaze fell to the floor, and I could see the devastation etched into every line of her face. She looked as if she was heartbroken, and I felt a pang of guilt.

“Am I not allowed to kiss my girlfriend?” I ask defensively.

Brooke looked up at me, her hazel eyes glazed with unshed tears. “I just want you to be happy, Jason,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt.”

I reached out to her, taking her hand in mine. “I’ll be careful,” I said, trying to reassure her. “I promise.”

Brooke nodded, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. She was worried about me, and I couldn’t blame her. I was worried about myself, too.

But I couldn’t let my fear hold me back. I knew that Erica had too much potential to be the perfect Yandere.

Mom slammed her hands on the table again, “Fucking Fine, whatever,” she said, her voice thick with anger. “See if I care, Jason. Just don’t you dare fucking call me for help when that little cunt ruins your life.”

Brooke looked at me with concern, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

Suddenly, Mom stood up from her chair, her eyes blazing with fury. “I’m going to bed,” she said, her voice cold and distant.

‘Classic mom. The same across the multiverse. Being bad at communication is apparently a universal constant for her.’ I laugh in my head at the fact that she barely changed outside of the drinking.

With that, she turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Brooke and me alone in an awkward silence.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Brooke muttered, her voice strained but soft. She offered a fake smile, one that barely masked the worry etched into her features, before retreating toward the hallway and disappearing into the shadows of her room. The faint click of her door closing echoed through the now-empty space.

***

As I lay in bed, I got a text message from someone in my contacts named Jade.

[What the fuck Jason. My friend said she saw you making out in the park with Erica. I thought we agreed you’d be my boyfriend. Did you forget already?]

“Ha” I laughed with a new anxiety. “Looks like other Jason left me with a secret girlfriend? Well that’s to bad for this girl.”

I don’t even entertain the thought of taking this girl seriously as I read through our old texts. After looking for a while, I solved this lame puzzle. This girl took pictures of me in the boy’s locker room while I was naked. She was using them to threaten me, and apparently this, Jason freaked out and agreed to date her.

“Bro, your mom is a cop with legit anger issues. She could have fixed this in a heartbeat.” I think to myself how easy this would be to fix with Mom’s help.

“……… Or we could tell Erica and see how she reacts.” I make a devilish smile even the Grinch would envy.

“Let it ride, baby!”