[High school romance]
Bad girl x good boy
"Don't be shy, Boris. If you want me to do something, to do something to you, to touch you the certain way or something else, you should just ask and I'm gladly going to do it. But don't be shy and embarrass...
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I adjust my backpack on my sore back and push my legs to continue moving while each pat of my old shoes makes my feet bleed. I haven't slept the whole night. I know, nothing special. But I hoped so bad that after I bawled my eyes out on the grave of my parents while Scar kept digging the ground as if his tiny paws were enough to remove the dirty ground from those graves and gave me an opportunity to see my parents for the very last time, I would at least pass out.
But soon when he realized that there was no way to remove all the ground when his paws got tired, he stopped, panting, and approached me, laying his head on my shoes, while I sobbed. And soon, I stopped sobbing, too, just like he stopped digging, because I, too realized that it was all in vain. They couldn't have responded to me while I was complaining about my life. My mother couldn't wrap my arms around me and tell me how everything would be okay. My dad couldn't beat the asshole who harmed his daughter and no matter how evil that sounded of me I wanted him so bad to punch his gross face, to make it bleed the exact way that asshole opened my wounds and made them burn again while letting go of that crimson liquid. I wanted him to kill him, to torture him the way he tortured me, but since I wasn't aware of him doing so, which wasn't that bad, I wanted dad to make sure that he was more than aware, so he can feel all the pain he would give him, feel it so clearly, so his gross face would frown and be a display full of emotions he would feel while being harassed, the emotions my face couldn't express because he drugged me.
No matter how much I wanted to drug him, to put a pill in his filthy mouth, it wouldn't be fair. It was my fault. I was the one who took it willingly. But if I hadn't, would something go differently? I doubt, but I know that the police would never try to catch this motherfucker since I willingly went with him. But the real question is, did I really have a choice? My father would surely make those damn police officers start the investigation and shut up their mouths.
But there is one thing. If they were alive there is a 90% of chance that I wouldn't be raped. But shall we get to that present moment in which I'm tired so bad to even fall asleep. Let's not forget about my breakdown in front of grandpa that happened yesterday, and even when I came back from the cemetery I couldn't fall asleep. He kept snorting and no matter how much I should have been irritated with it I didn't because his loud snorting kept dispersing my dark thoughts about him being dead, and the buzzing in my ears, since I didn't have any access to music.
I stop to catch a breath even though I've been only walking for less than ten minutes. It's just that I'm so tired. And not only physically but mentally. Mentally much more, actually. But right now that fatigue isn't that important as my body longing for the regular dose that I haven't had since I stayed at home last night, is.
You may be thinking that I should focus on the fact that I haven't tasted food for days, but those pills Manuel was providing me with were my everyday meal. And they were the main ones. They would replace food and give me even more energy than any meal could ever give me.
