Mon amour | discontinued

part eleven

Bella | like a rainbow haunts the rain.
Ceraunophile- a lover of thunderstorms

•••

I dream. I dreamt of what it could have been like without my father.

I dreamt of the beach and the sand under my toes or how the water would curve around my body.

I dreamt of falling in love in a white dress and staring at the sunset.

I was a dreamer.

I dreamt of a comfortable life, where I don't have to worry about my fathers creepy friends, who thought that a sixteen-year-old in school uniform was attractive.

I dreamt of what my teenage years could have been like if I didn't take the drugs.

It helped at the time, made me feel as though I was on cloud nine. It helped me reach my dream land, It helped me and I couldn't stop myself.

It helped but only for a specific time and then I was back to the land of crushed dreams and open lies.

By fourteen I was already more developed then others, my chest had grown over the summer and my tan legs had grown along with my thighs which were bigger then others.

I was the epitome of beauty, blonde and young. That's what they all thought, they would risk their marriage for the chance of a blow job.

From a young age I knew how to manipulate people with my body to get what I wanted.

I'm not proud of what I did but I don't regret taking the opportunity's I had, because otherwise I would still be living in that crappy one-story house that comforted the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, some of my only company being the 35-year-old men that had been my fathers friends.

I did what I did for money, so that I could eat and make it through the month without being evicted.

I can't name all the people that I helped get off, by talking or undressing or calling them the most vile names.

A virgin prostitute I guess you could call it.

I never had sex but at fifteen I was getting money for giving an orgasm.

That is the harsh truth.

Because at fifteen I had to giving my body away.

I didn't get a choice.

People will forever judge me for this, shame me away and call me names but I did what I had to do and they can't imagine that because they never had to fucking worry about if dad was in a good mood or not.

They didn't have the worries of where dinner was going to be from that night.

The people who judged me and shunned me away don't understand.

It's apart of my past, a past that I want to forget but it haunts me like a rainbow haunts the rain.

I struck of lightning jolts me awake, on high-alert as I take in the unfamiliar lounge room, my jumper thrown on the other side and the all to familiar body that I am perched up on top of.