Oh, young soul
The grabber x fem!reader
Suggestive themes, +18, read at your own risk
If you don’t like it just scroll
──────── Nov 27th ────────
Unlucky.
Unfortunate.
Cursed.
That’s how people will call her on the street, but at home it was worse.
‘You are home now’
‘suck it up’
‘It happens to all girls, it was going to happen soon or later’
And maybe it was true, she believed it, but still, she couldn’t handle to live with it.
She remembered his hands, his wandering hands, the ones that went from her toes to the roots of her hair.
The cold of the basement, the type of cold that would give her goosebumps and made her look for warmth were there wasn’t, his arms.
the dry blood of who knows how many children in that mattress he made her sleep in. She could still smell it. It never went away.
The times he left the door open to make her think she could be free. She will walk up the stairs, part of her begging he was sleeping and not waiting for her with his belt on his hands, but it was his game, and sadly she didn’t knew the rules.
The many names he made her call him.
His taste, his smell on her when he will toss her back onto the basement.
But maybe it was supposed to happen, maybe God wasn’t on her side.
Who knows?
Certainly not her.
But she just hoped that after she left herself drop off that chair it will all end.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but it was better than living with the disgust of feeling dirty everyday.
