It's been too long to cry about it anymore. I've accepted it and is trying to move on. But the sad thing is, how in the f****n WORLD can you act like nothing's happened?? Like you didn't do what you did? I've moved to be rid of you and you still swing around that corner to come back to haunt me?! You-You RAPIST!
It's been about eight years ago since you asked me to play the little game you call, "Princess". You better remember hmm neighbor? I used to come over and play with your little sister and there you came pulling me aside in the back yard to "play" when she had to go in the house for a short while. And I'd be so gullable as to actually play with you. There'd you be with a pole in your hand ready to hit me if the "princess acts up" or is "being a naughty princess". So I'd lie there on the itchy grass not knowing what to do. Panic runs through my aching bruised body as the tears run down my face.
"Mommy, mommy, mommy!!!" I'd screech. His tight grip grasps my lips shut. He'd carry me to the play house. Strip my clothing off. Pull his pants down.
I remembered looking into his eyes. Now that I've really thought about it, I've read the pleasure within them and, what is that? A sense of sympathy?
His rock hard, long weiner enters between my legs. Jab! Jab! Jab! He pierces the insides of me ripping my vagina open like a bag of candy. I'd scream with pain as I bleed. His sweat drips down on me.
"Uhm... Oh... Ugh..." he'd moan as I weeped with helplessness.
My legs flown up in the air. His hands yanking at my hair. His lips tracing it's way down my body. Lower and lower and LOWER..
"NNNOOOO!!!!!!!!!" Panting. Still he'd go. Licking me inside and out. And back again he came to look at me in the eyes. Poking me again and again deeper an deeper. Hands scraped the ground over and over till the skin came raw then bloody. Heavy breaths, bodies shaking, shivers of the intercourse runs through me. Chest pounding hard. Thump thump. He gets off, and sits there as this shiny white stuffs drips from it. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
Through the tears and pain, I couldn't help but wonder what that thing was? It looked kind of like that unicorn blood that Voldemort drank in Harry Potter?
He left. I lay there on the floor and put my clothes on over my blood covered legs. I wipe the tears away. Exited the play house, first looking if he was outside. Gone. Legs spread open and limp, I leave my friend without a goodbye, go home, and take a shower to wash away everything. Wash away what just happened, and you. The shower burnt me but I didn't care. I lay there thinking, what the hell? I wanted to play the game "Princess," NOT this!
Sometimes when I don't go over, I hear Nana yell. I'd listen as she yelled, "Gavin stop!". I knew what was happening-we knew what was happening but none of us uttered a word. He said "If you guys say anything, I will hurt you more than you could ever imagine!" so we left it alone.
This happened to me for about six years. The reason, I didn't want him o touch her! I didn't want him to hurt Nana like how he did me. I wanted to protect her. She was younger than me. I couldn't live with knowing that happened. So I'd go over and take the pain.
Because of what he did, I became sexually active. It ain't a lie! By the age of nine, I knew things most children shouldn't know or do. Nana was the same way. We went to the very same spot the "Game" happened to us. That was where we did it too! We started off kissing. Her lips were so soft unlike a mans. They were luscious and juicy.
It's hard to explain how warm and welcoming she was. We touched each other tenderly. Moaned with embrace. This was what I imagined sex to be like. That's what it's called right? Sex. It was with my best friend who I loved, what could be any better?
Then it happened, she left. Her parents got divorced and her mom got custody and she left me. I felt like there was no more for me. My parents were getting a divorced too. I felt unloved. I lost my precious Nana, my mom left and I haven't heard from my dad since I got in CPS, moving from here to there. I transfered to so many schools. Everytime a guy told me he loved me, I'd sleep with them. I'd believe them and open my legs thinking that's love. Sex was my comfort. It was my drug.
By age eleven, after several years of sex therapy, I finally confessed. I told about you and all the sex I've had since you've raped me. This stuff's all been released to CPS and the courts. But nothing was done for me. They said he'd go to jail for messing me up. But it was a LIE! All a LIE!! It's been a lie for three years since I told! And I had figured that out on my own at K-Mart.