S^x with a Ghost| Fyolai AU

|! Tragic Tuesday !| [pt. 1]

It was yet another Tragic Tuesday once again.

Well- it was more or less a normal Tuesday... if you could excuse that fact that I was forced to go help my father support his insufferable gambling and sexual addictions. And what I mean by support is well... go down to the local casino and just stand around, or perhaps even wander off in an adult infested drug house. That was yet another thing I hated about going there... other than having to personally spend time being in my fathers presence for about two to three hours, that place would always reek of alcohol and marijuana. It was absolutely distasteful.

I would always gag do to the clouds of smoke and other hazy host that I dare not even question the contents of. Sometimes I would even get sick from the fumes and pass out in the middle of everything, not that my pointless human being of a father even cared about my well-being in the first place. Which I definitely didn't expect him to... which is why it was always a kind and helpful stranger who would make sure I got out of there, safe and sound. And that person was almost always the kind casino owner, Sigma.

Sometimes I felt like he was annoyed that my father was bringing an obviously sick teenager to a place that was full of adults who would get drunk and have sexual relations almost every hour of the day. And honestly, I think everybody had a problem with it. Well, excusing my fathers many mistresses that I doubt he even remembered the names of. It was always the same few adults giving me sympathetic glances and wide saucer eyes that were filled to the brim with concern. But I hated their pity. I hated the way they looked at me as if saying "I'm so sorry" or "I wish I could help you". Why should they apologize for my fathers fucking ignorance? As far as I'm concerned, my distress has always been his fault and his fault alone.

A fault he will never be willing to pay up for. Not as long as he lived that is.... Which I wouldn't be opposed to him suddenly quelling over dead. Actually, I'm quite welcome to such a possibility- so much so that it made me feel better just thinking about it. As psychotic as that may seem... in my eyes he deserved every ounce of pain that he was going to be put through. By my or some other persons hand one day. And I personally can't wait to see a sight like that, watching the blood spray into the air in a mutilated frenzy. The image was making me smirk proudly.

I was walking along the carefully crafted side walk that led into the doors of the majestic and looming Casino before me. It's tall and large figure radiated with respect and grace. The newly red painted walls seemed to glimmer like that of a chuckling flame, the glowing yellow neon sign dancing around like fire flies in the nighttime sky as it's cursive font flashed along my vision in a parade of delightful colors and scenes. The pair of glass double doors greeted both me and my "father" who was walking by my side. Keeping a close eye on me as I would often try and run away at a time like this. But who's to say they could blame me for such a thing...? I didn't want to be here.. and I doubt my father ever actually wanted me around. The only reason he ever bothered to "spend time with me" was when he wanted or needed something from me. And that something in this instance, was well... a ride home since he would get absolutely hammered every time he would come here. That and the fact that he could never walk straight after pleasuring himself with his newest female companion that he suddenly picked up at the bar area. As always. But God... did I hate having to assist him when it was time to leave. He would say the most nonsensical bull shit... and it seriously made me want to leave him there on the side of the road and return home without him.

But of course. My mother would get all concerned, because even though he abused her and probably forced her into sexual pleasure almost every single week, she claimed to still love him. And I just could never wrap my head around a concept like that. Why would anybody love a man that would take away their freedom..? Because that's what he would always do, take her freedom away from her so she couldn't do a thing against him during the times he would continuously use her body- over and over and over again. Just so he could pleasure himself- as if that's all she was good for. I could always hear her screaming in agony from up there in my room- and it made me shiver as if I was suddenly shoved into a pool of Arctic cold waters. I could never sleep when he would do such a thing to her. I don't even know if she enjoyed it or not... but sometimes I would hear her voice egging him on. So that had to have meant she was consenting to it.. right..? Just thinking about it not being a consented action made me want to throw up my internal organs. Being in the same house as him was bad enough... but if I knew he was absolutely forcing himself onto her I would be more than inclined to run away from that infuriating hell hole.