After the Rain Falls
Here's the most disgusting thing, guys comment, or I won't post things! Comments are my motivation. :)
It's dark. So dark it wouldn't make a difference if she were blindfolded. The street lights have long burnt out. His strong fingers trace her trembling jaw. Heat pulses through him when he touches the warm tears that streak her face. His twisted heart pounds louder with pleasure then the terror within hers. The cement at their feet and the buildings surrounding them reek of fresh rain. The alley tastes like abandonment, forgotten and rarely stepped foot in. The sound of stray rain drops, plunking into puddles and rats fighting for scraps, adds to the fear that seeps into the girl's skin.
There is nobody around that could hear her desperate screams; except for the man who eagerly tears into her clothes. There is an urge inside her throat that itches to scream, inside her arms that burn to fight, in her legs that beg her to run. In her mind there is a certainty that if she screamed loud enough, it would numb her. So when death and what she knows comes before finally arrive, she won't be able to feel it. If he didn't do the more decent thing in the end, by killing her, she has no doubts she wouldn't take it into her own hands. However, she still wants to keep her life by protecting her precious body with whatever she had left in her. She has goals and dreams, friends and family. She is only 12. Not even in high school yet. Still, what everyone thinks won't happen to them, is happening to her. In slow motion, as if god wants her suffering to stain every part of her. Scarred onto her body. Tattooed onto her mind.
His hands tangle into her hair and he bends down to whisper into her ear. "Be a good girl and you'll enjoy this." His breath his hot on the side of her face, making her realize how cold she actually is. She jerks away from him. Enjoy? Maybe she heard him wrong. But how could she? The alley she lies in, is so dark and so silent every sound that interrupts it is more clear than anything she has heard. That's when she feels it. The sudden burst of strength. So, she uses it. She struggles, she kicks and she punches, slaps and screams. Screams as if the only thing left holding her down is that eerie silence that chills her to the bone. Then she stops. Not because he has covered her mouth, but because of the pain that sears into her cheek. Astounded.
Blood seeps into the collar of her shirt, which has been pushed up. Exposing her stomach and premature breasts. That scream did not numb her. No. She feels it. The burning slice that stretches from cheek bone to chin on the left side of her face, which he made in one swift movement with a small Swiss army knife he keeps in his jeans. He laughs deep in his throat at her astonishment, and in the same moment unzips his own pants, pins her arms to the wet ground, and selfishly takes her. Feeling more pleasure by her whimpers and sudden screams. Please. She thinks. God please end my life.
There is nobody around that could hear her desperate screams; except for the man who eagerly tears into her clothes. There is an urge inside her throat that itches to scream, inside her arms that burn to fight, in her legs that beg her to run. In her mind there is a certainty that if she screamed loud enough, it would numb her. So when death and what she knows comes before finally arrive, she won't be able to feel it. If he didn't do the more decent thing in the end, by killing her, she has no doubts she wouldn't take it into her own hands. However, she still wants to keep her life by protecting her precious body with whatever she had left in her. She has goals and dreams, friends and family. She is only 12. Not even in high school yet. Still, what everyone thinks won't happen to them, is happening to her. In slow motion, as if god wants her suffering to stain every part of her. Scarred onto her body. Tattooed onto her mind.
His hands tangle into her hair and he bends down to whisper into her ear. "Be a good girl and you'll enjoy this." His breath his hot on the side of her face, making her realize how cold she actually is. She jerks away from him. Enjoy? Maybe she heard him wrong. But how could she? The alley she lies in, is so dark and so silent every sound that interrupts it is more clear than anything she has heard. That's when she feels it. The sudden burst of strength. So, she uses it. She struggles, she kicks and she punches, slaps and screams. Screams as if the only thing left holding her down is that eerie silence that chills her to the bone. Then she stops. Not because he has covered her mouth, but because of the pain that sears into her cheek. Astounded.
Blood seeps into the collar of her shirt, which has been pushed up. Exposing her stomach and premature breasts. That scream did not numb her. No. She feels it. The burning slice that stretches from cheek bone to chin on the left side of her face, which he made in one swift movement with a small Swiss army knife he keeps in his jeans. He laughs deep in his throat at her astonishment, and in the same moment unzips his own pants, pins her arms to the wet ground, and selfishly takes her. Feeling more pleasure by her whimpers and sudden screams. Please. She thinks. God please end my life.
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