no ideas
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
747
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
747
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
no ideas
No Ideas
“You fucking fag. You disgust me.”
*fwap*
“Is that how I fucking raised you?”
*fwap*
“ANSWER ME!”
============================================================================
I could still feel the sting of his hand hitting my face. The breath being knocked out of me as he kicked me in the ribs. The bruises that had long since disappeared.
So that is why I am here. Standing in the bitter cold. Dressed in the most skimpy, scanky, slutty outfit you may ever see.
The whole situation makes me nauseous. I used to have a life. A loving family, lots of friends, good grades. Oh well right. To bad.
To think my own father could hate me for something so stupid. For something I cant control.
I lean up against the brick wall behind me, and pull the small coat tighter around my thin frame. It doesn’t really help. I’m still freezing.
Just then a car pulls up to the curb. Which as you may have already guessed is my cue. I put a seductive smile on my face, and walk up to the car leaning on the open window, supported by my arms.
“Hi there. Wanna have some fun?” I ask, but really I want to say ‘Stop looking at me like you would jump me right here if it wasn’t so cold your dick would fall off! You disgusting old shit!’. But I don’t. He still makes me sick, though.
He says ‘ya’, and I say ‘money?’.
He looks around and starts going through his pockets. I swear some people are so unorganized.
I straiten up and start to walk away. He suddenly grabs my skirt. Which if I may just say is actually to short to actually be considered a skirt, but more of a expensive, stylish headband. Actually a headband would be just as warm, if not warmer. I swat his hand away.
He holds up some bills and says ‘here‘.
“O.K.” I say, and I get into the passenger seat.
I feel nauseous. I want to gouge this piece of shit’s eyes out for looking at me. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t have a choice. I need to pay the rent and buy food. Really not the kind of things a seventeen year old kid should be worrying about.
We drive away and I feel like crying. I don’t. I feel nauseous, but I don’t puke. Why did this happen to me? Why does God hate me so much? Oh well, I guess if things cant get any worse they have to get better, right? Right?
Did I mention I feel nauseous?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hallo! review and tell me if i should continue. did you like it, hate it , did you want to gouge *YOUR* eyes out? (please dont! i would feel so bad!)
“You fucking fag. You disgust me.”
*fwap*
“Is that how I fucking raised you?”
*fwap*
“ANSWER ME!”
============================================================================
I could still feel the sting of his hand hitting my face. The breath being knocked out of me as he kicked me in the ribs. The bruises that had long since disappeared.
So that is why I am here. Standing in the bitter cold. Dressed in the most skimpy, scanky, slutty outfit you may ever see.
The whole situation makes me nauseous. I used to have a life. A loving family, lots of friends, good grades. Oh well right. To bad.
To think my own father could hate me for something so stupid. For something I cant control.
I lean up against the brick wall behind me, and pull the small coat tighter around my thin frame. It doesn’t really help. I’m still freezing.
Just then a car pulls up to the curb. Which as you may have already guessed is my cue. I put a seductive smile on my face, and walk up to the car leaning on the open window, supported by my arms.
“Hi there. Wanna have some fun?” I ask, but really I want to say ‘Stop looking at me like you would jump me right here if it wasn’t so cold your dick would fall off! You disgusting old shit!’. But I don’t. He still makes me sick, though.
He says ‘ya’, and I say ‘money?’.
He looks around and starts going through his pockets. I swear some people are so unorganized.
I straiten up and start to walk away. He suddenly grabs my skirt. Which if I may just say is actually to short to actually be considered a skirt, but more of a expensive, stylish headband. Actually a headband would be just as warm, if not warmer. I swat his hand away.
He holds up some bills and says ‘here‘.
“O.K.” I say, and I get into the passenger seat.
I feel nauseous. I want to gouge this piece of shit’s eyes out for looking at me. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t have a choice. I need to pay the rent and buy food. Really not the kind of things a seventeen year old kid should be worrying about.
We drive away and I feel like crying. I don’t. I feel nauseous, but I don’t puke. Why did this happen to me? Why does God hate me so much? Oh well, I guess if things cant get any worse they have to get better, right? Right?
Did I mention I feel nauseous?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hallo! review and tell me if i should continue. did you like it, hate it , did you want to gouge *YOUR* eyes out? (please dont! i would feel so bad!)