"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍." - Reba McEntire. "Fancy". 1990.
🐻Fancy🐰Mike🐤Ness🦊Vanessa✨
In which, Francine Jenkins is a Yale pre law and criminal justice major completing her senior thesis...
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Violence warning !! ~~
"The Bear Forest Snatcher they called me."
Mr. Patrick continued as he played with the blade against her skin. "They never asked me my real name, you know? Don't you find that rude?" Fancy didn't say anything, her eyes stayed glued to the knife, wondering when he would use it against her. "Hey!" He shouted in her face, his other hand reached up to grip her chin and forced her to look at him.
"I'm talking to you, Francine." She shook with fear. "Do you find that rude, my dear?" She nodded. Eyes welling with tears. "My name is Samuel Patrick. Samuel Kelvin Patrick, by the way. Nice to officially meet you Francine Marie Jenkins." He said.
"Now that you are mine, that is." He flipped the blade in his hand and pressed the tip against her skin, the skin just south of her neck, over her collar bone. "Please no." She begged. "Please please please." "Shut up." He slapped her. She screamed. "That's always the problem with you." he hissed, the blade pressed against her skin as he began carving her flesh.
"You women, you girls. You were made to be seen and not heard, do you hear me? A perfect little barbie doll. You know, they never made barbies that speak? They made babies that cry- that's for you girls to learn motherhood. But Barbies? They are perfect, seen and not heard. Seen and not heard. You are barbie. Seen and not heard. Seen and not heard."
He lifted the knife from her skin, the letter S had been traced in blood and slice. "Stop." she begged. "Stop please." "Now now," He pressed the knife to her skin again, "None of that." He continued as he began to carve another letter.
"If it wasn't for my son and William I would have never known that you were here, you've come home to me, Francine." "You're insane." "You belong to me." He replied. "And you know it. Why else would you be here, back to me." she whimpered, pain coursing through her body. He finished another letter. K.
"And you'll join them." He said, starting his final letter on her skin. Fancy gave a shriek and she cried out, pain searing through her. "You'll join your sisters. Here. with me. Forever. I'll make you perfect." He finished his last letter, a P. His initials.
"There we go." He pulled his knife back and cleaned it on his pants. He grabbed a bottle of something and poured it over the markings. Fancy screamed. Rubbing Alcohol. Oh how it burned, how it seared and stung. He had marked her and now he was making sure she felt it, against her skin.
