The White Rabbit

Chapter 7

   Warning!! There is rape/molestation of a minor in this chapter. In no way do I condone or encourage molesting minors!!! If any of this offends you the feel free to skip ahead! Other than that, enjoy!!

   It's been a week since I've last seen Caleb. I know that he told me that he'll try to see my soon but soon feels like forever.
   The day after the party, Ali called me and told me that she somehow managed to hide being hungover from her mom. I don't know how because her mom practically watches over her shoulder at everything she does. I'm just glad that she didn't get in trouble. I wouldn't forgive myself if Ali got in trouble because of my inability to watch over her.
   In the past week, I've been remembering my life with Caleb as my brother. With every memory, his face becomes clearer and clearer. But with every memory, I have also been having nightmares about my father. Last night was the worse though.
   
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   I hold tightly onto Harry. His fur still smells like mom's perfume and it calms me. I sit in the middle of my bed crying quietly. I miss my mom. Whenever I cry, she usually wipes away my tears and sings to me
    The door to me room creaks open and my dad walks in. "Hey bug, you okay?"
    Instead of answering , I bury my head into Harry's fur. I try to stop my tears from staining his white fur, but they just keep coming. Arms wrap around my waist and my dad lifts me up, sitting me on his lap. I bury my face into his neck and continue to cry.
   "I miss mommy," I whimper.
   " I know bug. I know. Daddy will take care of you, I promise." He sounds like he's holding back tears of his own but they don't fall. After I calm down, we both sit in silence. I shift in my dad's lap and I hear him gasp.
   "Are you okay dad?" I ask, blissfully unaware of what was going on. "No bug. Not at all."
   Dad soon turns to me and asks "Do you want daddy to make you feel better bug?" I nod, willing to do anything to take my mind off of the death of my mother.
   My dad's hand reaches down and cups me through my pants. I jump back and look at him, shocked. "What are you doing?"
   "I'm making you feel better bug. Isn't that what you want?"
    I stare at him, confused. "But it thought you said that that's my no-no place. Nobody can touch me there." He smiles. "That's right. I'm glad that you remember that. But it's okay for daddy to touch you there because I'm making you feel better. I won't hurt you." When he touches me there again, I don't pull away even though it feels uncomfortable.
   My dad lays me on my back and he's kneeling over me. "You're so pretty bug. You look just like her." I pout. "I'm a boy. I'm not pretty."
   He chuckles. "It's okay to be pretty. Because you're my pretty bug." He takes off my shirt and pants, leaving me in my underwear. He leans down and kisses my neck making me squirm. He moves further down and blows onto my stomach making me laugh. He chuckles and moves further down until he's face-to-face with my underwear. Dad looks at me and says "'Now bug, this will feel a little weird at first, but I promise you'll like it."
   "Okay." I nod my head. I can trust dad. He's never lied to me before. If he says that I'll like it, then I'll like it. He pulls my underwear down, leaving me completely nude. I blush, instinctively reaching down to cover myself and dad chuckles.
    He stands up and takes off his own clothes so that he's nude as well. "Will it make you feel better if daddy's naked as well." I don't know why but him being naked doesn't make me feel better. If anything, I feel even more nervous. But I nod and say "yes."
   Dad leans back over me and puts his lips on mine. When he pulls away, I frown. "I thought that dads aren't supposed to kiss their sons. My teacher said that it's wrong."
   Dad frowns. "Your teacher is a dumb bitch that doesn't know what she is talking about. It's okay for me to kiss you because what we have is special. We're not like other dads and sons. We're different. And what did I tell you about being different?"
   I smile up at him. "That it's good!" He chuckles. "Good boy."
   Dad reaches his hand down and begins to pump me slowly. For a while it feels good. Then I remember that it's my dad who's touching me like this. A nagging feeling starts at the back of my head. My dad said that we're special and that it's okay to be different. So why do I feel so uncomfortable?
   Dad continues to touch me and his hands are rough. I try to focus on his touch but I am unable to feel good. Dad looks at me and smiles. "Do you want to touch Daddy?"
   He sits up on the bed and leans back. My small hands touch him and he lets out quiet moans. My movements are unsure and I feel awkward as I touch his.
   Suddenly he pushes me back and causes me to yelp. His eyes are glazed over as he stares down at me. "I won't take you today but I can't take this any longer."
   A long finger pushes its way inside of me. It feels weird and foreign as it wriggles around.
  "Ouch! Dad that hurts! Take it out!" Instead of taking it out, he adds 2 more fingers. It feels like I'm being ripped in half. A burning sensation crawls inside of me and tears leak out of my eyes.
   "Dad it hurts! Please stops!" He doesn't listen, pushing his fingers in and out of me. This goes on for a few moments until my dad moans loudly and a weird liquid leaks onto my stomach. I'm still crying when I look down and see my dad take his fingers out of me.
   Blood covers his fingers and stain my bedsheets. Dad leans towards me and kisses me gently. "You did very well bug. I'm so proud of you."
 
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   I wake up, rushing out of the bed towards the bathroom. I lean over the toilet retching up my lunch and dinner. When I'm finally finished, I flush the toilet and stand up. I wash the nasty taste of puke out of my mouth and lean on the sink, hunched over.
   I don't want to remember that. I want to forget it. I want to forget. I want the pain to go away. Without looking in the mirror, I open the bathroom cabinet and take out a razor. I pull up my long black sleeve and look down at my arm. There are 5 horizontal lines that stain my pale skin. I slash the razor across my arm. What was once 1 cut turns to 3. And that turns to 6. Blood leaks onto the bathroom floor as I sit against the tub.
   For the first time in a while, my dad is not the cause of blood surrounding me. It's my own sick addiction. I close my eyes and smile, letting the blood drip onto the white tiles.

Whew! I'm not gonna lie, I was a little uncomfortable writing this. Once again I do not condone or encourage molestation! If you are being molested then please speak up and tell someone!! Have a great day my lovelies!! Byeee!!-no_nonsenceny