Trauma Submissive (complete)

remember when I died

A/N: continuation of part 22. Font intended because of storytelling and stuff so yeah. Mention of sexual assault and suicide and underage drug use.

POV: Key

I was 9 when it happened again.
My mom had just gone to bed after a long day of work, and I was still up playing with my dad. I remember he wanted to show me how to play one of his video games. I let him pick me up and put me on his lap, he handed me the control, and we started playing, I didn't think much of it. A while into the game, I felt something poking, so I turned to ask my dad what it was. He told me I should just focus on the game I did and did my best to not be bothered by the poking under me.
My dad lifted me and when I asked why he just said because he needed to make sure I didn't go potty on myself, so I didn't care that he had taken my pants down. He lowered my body back down on him, but this time I felt a sharp pain and I dropped the controller to the game and started to cry.

A/N: first-person now because my mind is a mess.

My dad rubbed my back as the sharp pain in me got to be more and more, “dad it hurts, what are you doing?” He shushed me “don't worry Jaden it will feel good soon” and just as he said the pain did go away, but it didn't feel good it felt like I was being pushed without falling. I felt my dad's hands snake up to my penis, but I pushed his hand away “I don't feel good, stop please”. He just laughed as he took my hand in his free hand then used the hand from before to grab onto my dick, he stroked me. Fast-forward to when I was 10 I had to learn to enjoy the moments with my dad even know that it hurt, and it wasn't right, it was the only time he wasn't yelling at or hitting me. I learned to just let him have my body because at least I was useful and made him happy. But the guilt of letting my dad use me as his sex item was making my life hard, so of course I turned to the one person who I loved the most, my twin brother. Despite him being 9 he has been a through way more than me and his advice was to numb myself with drugs. I thought that it was amazing I could be numb by just taking pills or putting stuff up my nose and I didn't have to live with the gut-wrenching pain, sounds amazing. So, I got into drugs and I and him bonded over that, it was a double win. Anyway, let's get to the part where I tried to take my life, I was 12 the first time. The only reason why I tried was that my brother went missing and everyone told me he was dead, so I just wanted to be with him. By the time I was 15 I had tried to kill myself 10 times already and on my birthday I had a plan, instead of trying and failing I was just going to fake it. I went to the store-bought some fake blood and rope and I hired somebody with my allowance from my school then I set everything up.
I made a noose, hung it to my ceiling then poured the fake blood on my bed and rubbed it around got my blades from my backpack and scatted those on the floor then told the person to pretend to be dead then I wrote a note grabbed my money then left, and I was glad to leave to.
I had about 40 dollars on me, so I didn't go far, but I didn't have to I just wanted to get away from screaming abusive parents drugs sex and any other things that I may or may not have been through. I hopped on a bus, waited for the last stop and got off there. I ended up on the streets for two weeks, but thanks to my parents I have good lying skills, so I lied my way into a job and lied my way into an apartment then lied some more to get into school and graduate.

A/N: My bad guys I have horrible thoughts for people and I write about it lol. This part was a lot and kind of hard for me to write, so I had to keep stopping because I would have flashbacks and ended up crying, so yeah lmao. Any, who, did you enjoy the sadness?

I suppose it will all make sense
When we grow up.

(822 words)