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The First Night He Hurt Her
A young girl sits with her legs folded up to her chin. He's done for the night, and leaves her to drown in her terror. It doesn't hurt so much anymore, she's learned not to fight back. She goes to the shower to wash it all away and pretend it was all a nightmare. But it will never completely go away.
As she tosses and turns that night in her bed, she is haunted by the first night he came. It seems so far ago in the past, but it's only been two years. She had just turned eleven years old, and her drug addict mother had decided to surprise her with another "friend" from some bar. All was well, until later that night. Her mom had passed out into a drug-induced sleep, and just before the girl was also about to go to sleep, she heard the door open. She looked up and saw her mother's birthday surprise standing at the doorway. The smell of whiskey was stronger than her terror. Voices screamed inside her head to leave, get up and run, but she stayed frozen in her bed. He came over and sat down beside her, stroking her exposed legs. She tried to scream, tried to call for help, but she just choked a small whimper. Before she knew it, he was in her. She tried to fight back, but it just made it hurt worse. All she could was lay there. Then he finished and left her lying there, blood staining her panties. Everytime she moved it hurt. Excrutiating pain crippled her as she walked to the bathroom to run a bath. She laid there in the water for hours, washing away the b******'s marks. When she got out, she could still see him raping her.
Ever since then she can always see him raping her. Over and over and over again. The blood began to stain less, and the pain began to dim. But the scars have always stayed there. She gets out of bed now, to tend to her crying child. He's only a year old, and his existence is so ironic. How could a beautiful creature be born from such a sinful and disgusting manner? She's quieted him and lays him back down. Even though her son is such an angel, she can still see traces of the father. But she quickly wipes that away. She goes back to lay down and prays that she dies before the next night comes.
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Favorite Quote:
Boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody. ~J.D. Salinger,The Catcher in the Rye,