The sound of a bed creaking. The smell of sweat on human skin. The pain that courses throughout my body. The taste of blood fills my mouth as I bite my lip. And the sight of my father's face as he rapes me. The human body always was a strange thing. Five senses was what told us that we were alive. But somehow I felt lost. Dead even. My father had his way with me that day. But strange enough I never blamed him. I was ten and he was all I had. No matter how much it hurt or how disgusted I felt with myself for not fighting back. I still couldn't bring myself to hate myself. At such a young age I learned that not everyone gets an happy ending.
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