Kiss me Or Kill me

Prologue

Some childrens are just born with tragedy in thier blood.
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After Mom died, we were taken to an orphanage where everything was far from being okay. The loss of our mother weighed heavily on us, and living in the orphanage was nothing short of horrible.

It was a terrifying sight to witness children crying, left by their parents, without anyone to comfort those abandoned babies. The constant wails of the children made it impossible to find any semblance of calm.

My brother Ivan and I were separated into different sections for boys and girls, and our meetings were reduced to only once a day. The youngsters received no quality education or proper care. Everything ran on a strict schedule, down to the minute. Even the slightest delay for lunch or dinner resulted in severe punishment.

The caretakers were excessively strict, with one even resorting to hard slaps for the smallest, unnoticed mistake. Anger seemed to be their constant state. To make matters worse, the older girls took advantage of my quiet nature and bullied me relentlessly.

Whenever the caretaker was absent, they would mock my appearance, calling it scary. They taunted me, referring to my body's scars and labeling me "cow."

"You're the ugliest thing I have ever seen. Those scars are hideous." they would cruelly say.

Then, one day, their demeanor suddenly shifted, as if they had never been cruel to me. They braided my hair and spoke to me in a sweet manner. They even allowed me to play with their dolls and toys.

After breakfast, they took me into the restroom.

There were three girls and one boy, around seventeen years old, with them. They locked the door, and my stomach churned with fear.

"What?" I stammered, my fear palpable.

"Come on, just pull up your skirt." Said one of the red-haired girls.

I nodded hesitantly, my hands trembling, and pulled up my skirt, revealing my underwear. They all burst into laughter as if I were a joke.

"Your panties are peculiar." Remarked the boy, touching the fabric of my undergarment. Uncomfortably, I pulled away.

"Don't worry. We're not doing anything wrong. We're not interested in touching trash like you, you cow." The blond girl said, caressing my cheek before slapping it.

"Now, take off your underwear." Ordered the other girl. Nausea overcame me. This wasn't right. My mother would never do these things to me, nor would anyone else.

"No! Leave me alone!" I protested, pulling away and rushing out of the restroom. However, they managed to grab me by the waist.

"Shut up, you ugly cow!" One of them snapped, gripping my wrist tightly while the other held my waist. The blond girl forcefully removed my underwear.

What followed afterward is a blur. They touched my private parts, causing immense discomfort. I cried and cried, feeling like I might faint or vomit.

Years later, I came to understand that what happened to me was sexual abuse.

Living in that orphanage for two years turned my life into a living nightmare. It was suffocating to be there, and I could no longer bear it. I wanted to escape, to run away anywhere. The urge to flee grew stronger with each passing day.