Her Helping Hand. (W|W, INTERSEX.)

9.

I refuse to punish everyone for one persons behavior. God bless.

TW: sexual assault.

UNEDITED

RAYNE:

That fùcking bastard. I should break his teeth. I thought as I walked down the street, trying my best to hold in my temper. I can't believe I decided to open up just for him to respond that way. The only thing keeping me calm was the smile on my angels face when I started to speak.

Too bad it'll be the last time. I don't ever want to speak again. Because ignorant shit like that is the reason why I don't talk at all. I've always been insecure of my voice. It's deep, throaty even. It sounds like I'm half of a man.

Every single foster parent I've ever had made me feel that way. They made me feel manly, forcing me into dresses and to act feminine regardless of what was between my legs.

I fucking hated it.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out to see a text message from Dylan. She asked if I was okay and to make sure to get home safe. She also said we'll talk when she gets inside. I sighed and locked my phone before walking to the park.

Usually after work I wait for Dylan in the park. I like to sit and watch the sun set as well as listen to the joyful screams from the children that played in the playground. It calmed me, and also made me think about the future I never thought I'd be able to dream about.

I've always wanted kids. I loved kids so much. I wish I could protect every single one in this world. They were so innocent and didn't deserve the monsters who prey after them.

I would know. I've been through it too many times to not understand. To never be on guard the moment I see a red flag.

As the sun went down and the dusk sky took over, a young girl ran over to me with a large smile on her face. She seemed to be about thirteen and it made me smile to see her smile.

"Hi. My mom said she always sees you here in the park. She wanted me to give you this." The young girl stated as she ran up to me. She had large green eyes and curly hair, her skin an olive color. I smiled at the cutie and nodded before taking the envelope from her hand.

"She said to call her anytime you need anything. My dad works at an auto shop. She said you look like you can be of great help to him."

I looked up and saw her mom waving at me with a smile. She looked older, her grey hair laying down her back. I squinted, trying to understand why her face seemed so familiar. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

I waved back and watched as she called her daughter over. The young girls name was Lucille. She waved and ran toward her mom, her mom staring at me for a second before nodding causing me to grow confused when a bag was put over my head, causing me to gasp for air and panic.

"Yeah stupid bitch. You thought I wouldn't find you?" I heard Michael's voice growl as he choked me with the bag, throwing me to the ground. I was gasping for air, clawing a hole into the bag when a large blow hit my Face, causing me to groan in pain.

"You stupid fucking faggot. You think Ms. Williams can save you now? She must suck a mean dick for you to be whipped like that. I should test it out for myself. But first..I want to see how loud your voice could get. Today wasn't enough." He hissed before punching me again and choking me with the bag. I gasped for air, kicking and fighting my way through but he held me down, pulling my pants down.

"Y'all see this? She's a fucking freak. Cut it off so she can be a real woman."

I screamed for help, kicking a hard figure and hearing someone groan as I scrambled to my feet, pulling my pants up and ripping the bag off my face. I saw Micheal bent over as his buddies stared at me in fear, one of them launching themselves at me with a knife.

It slightly pinched my skin and I groaned through my teeth as I held his hand back from stabbing me deeper, a hoarse scream coming from between my lips as I ripped the knife from my skin and pushed him to the ground, pounding his face in.

"Yo! Yo chill! It was just a joke! You're going to kill him!" I heard Michael scream but I growled and stood, blood dripping from my knuckles as I walked toward him, his other friend already running for his life and leaving Michael on his own.

"Yo please! Just say something! Im sorry!" He panicked. I stayed silent, stalking toward him and grabbing him by his throat, my hand squeezing his neck as the adrenaline pumped in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to squeeze him to death. Until his eyeballs popped out of his fucking head and he choked on his own blood.

But instead I dropped him to the ground before kicking him in the face, leaving him and his friend to bleed and groan as I stumbled out of the park, holding onto the street pole for dear life.

One thing about living in New York City is that people will watch you suffer and not say a word. People took pictures as I stumbled down the street, the blood leaking from my lower chest just above my rib cage as I tried to hold it together.

The blood poured from my lips and by the time I reached the apartment building, I was wheezing and gasping for air as black spots filled my vision. I wanted nothing more than to lay down and let the white light take me.

But then I heard my angel. And I smiled as I dropped to the ground.

"Rayne?! RAYNE?! OH MY GOD! SOMEONE CALL 911!" I heard her scream as I watched through blurry vision as she threw her stuff onto the ground and dropped to her knees, her small warm hands finding my clammy, bloody face.

"Oh no, my baby..who did this.." She sobbed as she tried to shake me awake. I moaned, trying my best to stay awake but failed as my eyes shut, everything turning black.