She was raped. She was destroyed. She's always been alone despite the crowd of people surrounding her.
A mentally unstable girl who is so close to cutting her wrist and ending her pain. Until he came. Her sister's boyfriend.
CAUTION: READ AT YOUR OW...
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PROLOGUE
A
s a kid, I grew up having so many questions in mind. And none of them are questions that a normal eight-year old girl would like to ask.
"Open your mouth, Mary Grace." Uncle Thomas said. I blinked several times. He quickly unzipped the zippers of his rugged jeans and pulled out something—a piece of flesh. Tilting my head, I tried to determine what it is. It's throbbing and warm and looks scary.
"But it looks scary, Uncle," I said in a small weak voice. Fidgeting with my fingers, I looked away. "Is this really part of the game?"
His mischievous eyes shone. Uncle Thomas pulled me closer and made me kneel in front of him. "Oh, yes, Mary Grace. It's all part of the game," his intense eyes blared. "Now, open your mouth,"
I shook my head. "I don't want to," tears started welling up in my eyes. Cold fear creep into my skin, realizing that I don't want the way Uncle Thomas smiles at me today. It's not friendly at all. I want to get out of here and play with my dolls outside or talk to Ate Annie.
"Come on, now, this is going to be fun," he pulled my head closer to the throbbing thing between his legs. Fear rose from the pit of my stomach, clawing at every inch of me and begging to burst in a scream.
"Please let me go," I murmured. "I want to play dolls with Ate Annie,"
"Yeah, after we finish our game."
"I don't want to play this game anymore,"
"Don't be stubborn, Mary Grace," using his two large fingers, he parted my lips by brute and immediately inserted his thing on my mouth. I wanted to gag. Uncle Thomas groaned loudly.
I keep on pushing him away but his grip on my arms tightened. He doesn't want to let me go until this game is not yet over. Tears started streaming down my face.
I didn't understand what was happening at that time, but I know for sure that eight-year old girls don't do that kind of stuff.
All I wanted was to play dolls with him.
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Artwork by: callmealyne
WARNING: CONTAINS MATURE SCENES. THIS STORY IS NOT FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE EASILY OFFENDED, NARROW-MINDED, AND A FIRM BELIEVER OF FAIRYTALES AND HAPPY ENDINGS.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Do not distribute, publish, transmit, modify, display, or create derivative workds from or exploit the contents of this story. Please obtain permission.
