Some Girl

Some Girl Some Girl

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Summary

Growing pains of a desolate life from a teenagers perspective. Involves sex and some violence

Summary

Growing pains of a desolate life from a teenagers perspective. Involves sex and some violence

Content

Submitted: December 21, 2011

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: December 21, 2011

A A A

A A A


I have thousands of ideas all rushing, running, surging through my mind. Ideas about how to start this story; I decided to start with the truth. Truth, that’s a strange concept. The dictionary defines it as “a verified or indisputable fact, proposition, principle, or the like” but that’s their definition. I’m talking about my truth. Yes it’s true my room is blue that is a fact that cannot be challenged unless you’re a philosopher then the existence of colour is non-existent and it’s all figment of our conscience. But I’m talking about a different kind of truth one that only we know, one that we feel, one that reason can’t explain. Why is it that when I sit down to write, all them ideas, all them thought vanish like the morning dew.

I sometimes sit down and wonder who I am? And what I stand for but I always come to the same conclusion; nobody. There are seven billion people roaming this majestic world, but out of that how many really live? Who really tastes life? Probably half a dozen. I look at people when I’m on the bus and I imagine them like robots; waking up, going to work or watching tele, eating, shagging then sleeping. Is that what life is about? I can see the mechanics in their brain ticking. Tick tick tick, waiting till their batteries run out and they slowly shut down. But even when they do shut down most people are too selfish to donate their parts. All that useful metal that could help another automaton to tick a little bit longer goes to waste. Sad really how life is, how long and yet so short it is. It’s quite scary to see the smiles people have but sometimes, once in a while you get a glimpse of what is beneath that smile. Sometimes its sorrow for what life has taken away. Sometimes its guilt of what they did. Sometimes its remorse for what they did not. All that could haves that slipped away. All those chances to say sorry and make amends gone. It’s weird though, you understand how they feel because you feel it too.

Once in a while I sit at a bar, alone thinking about the good old past. Drinking whiskey, the ice clinks against the glass. Then the taste and the burning sensation help me forget the past and I make new mistakes. Mistakes that help to take away the bitter taste of yesterday. But then I wake up. The walls are white, the sheets are soiled. There is a condom wrapper on the floor. There is a man next to me. I gaze at his face, he doesn’t really have a face, after a while all the faces, all the places become one. I wonder should I wake him up for one last good time or should I sneak out? I close my eyes lean back into the pillow try to recall last night. Recall whether he satisfied my urge. Did he take away the isolation? Did he make me feel? More than that did he make me have an orgasm? Sex is supposed to be away to show love. I use it as a way to escape, for an hour or so I feel nothing. My mind goes blank. But then it’s over, back to reality. Back to feeling empty. I look down at him once again, and I climb on him start kissing him, he wakes up. I whisper in his ears “fuck me” and it’s on. He throws me on my back. His sweaty body on mine, his hands caressing my hips and his lips sucking, licking, nibbling at my nipples. They went hard. French kissing me as he guides his erect penis inside. Oh shit! No condoms! I push him off me. Screaming “get the fuck off me”. I grab my things head for the bathroom. Throw on my clothes and run out the room, run out the hotel.

Back to feeling empty again. I walk down to the canal and think about the lie I need to tell my dad. The reason why I was not home that night. I suppose he won’t really care. His not real dad. My mother’s husband. But she went and left him and me.

I walk in through the door. It’s silent. I try to creep upstairs but it didn’t work. “Where the fuck have you been, you little bitch?!!” he screams I say nothing. He comes closer to me “you’re like your fucking whore of a mother”, still I say nothing. Then he comes closer, he grabs me by the hair. “Stop it, it hurts, get the fuck away from me!” I sob. He replies with a kick and a punch and a kick.

I wake up, naked. Bruises on my breast, I suppose he squeezed too hard. Blood; from where I banged my head. I try to grab my clothes. Too late his back. I try to cover myself. He laughs “I already seen it all, no point in covering”. He comes and sits next to me, kisses me on my neck. “I never meant to hurt you. But you know your mine, why you staying out late? I can’t stand another man touching you. Come on baby you know I love you”. I lie down on the floor. He lies next to me, his hands wrapped around my breast. He asks me “be daddy’s good little angel suck my cock baby”. I do it. As I suck, his dick gets harder. I can taste the precum. I suck the tip because I know he likes it, I know he wants me to put the whole thing in my mouth slowly. His not selfish, He returns the favour by kissing me all the way down and spreads my legs, his tongue feeling the inside of my vagina. Sucking, lapping at my clit. I close my eyes, as he viciously rubs my vagina and kisses my inner thigh.

Apart of me wants him to stop. Another apart wants him to be happy. I want to be his little girl; I want him to be proud of me, to love me. He took my virginity. I want to be his girlfriend and his daughter all at the same time. I don’t like this anymore; my body has been used by so many men. I don’t want to feel this empty but I got nothing. It’s over, his cum all over my tits. I get up, go to the shower, and try to scrub the dirt away. Never goes though because when I look in the mirror I can see it.  Dirty that’s me. I look at the razor blade, should I end it all? Wouldn’t it be better if I was gone? But wait who would take care of dad? Mom gone, he needs me.


© Copyright 2018 SomeGirl. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Other Content by SomeGirl

More Great Reading

Popular Tags