New Chapter!!!🐋🐬
Warning: As this chapter is a continuation from the previous chapters, this chapter continues to explore kidnapping and rape. It is a very sensitive topic and you may find it distressing. Please take care of your wellbeing and read what is most comfortable for you.
Enjoy your reading time. 🪴🪴🪴
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This story starts with a little girl nine years ago, who was oblivious to the dark side of the world.
Nine years ago. If she was 21 this year, it meant she was 12.
Little girl.
She didn't want to share this story in first person.
The weight of her past reflected the way she started to share her story. Reflected in the way her eyes dim a little. Reflected in the vulnerability in her voice.
She trusted me. Trusted me with her vulnerability, her past, her true self.
"The little girl was naïve and pure I guess. Raised by parents who loved her, protected by her brother who always took care of her. But that day, the little girl wanted to explore a little with her school friends. She rebelled against her parents words and ran away from her brother's protection. Just for a little bit of fun. She went out shopping, bought a few things, tried new foods, and then went into the woods for a few games of hide and seek. It was one the best days the little girl had in her life. Trying things on her own for the first time. Eating foods she chose for the first time. Playing around without the confinement. What the little girl didn't know was all these measures she found suffocating were all there for a specific intended reason. They weren't there to suffocate her, at least not intentionally, but were there to protect her. The clothes she wore, the activities she did, the food she ate, the confinement being arms of protection." She releases a sigh before swallowing and taking a moment.
I don't say anything. I didn't want to interrupt anything. This was clearly something she wasn't used to sharing around. A proud woman like her would almost never share anything that could put them at a disadvantage.
I was one entitled man to be given the privilege to even hear this.
"But she realises this, moments too late. During her third game of hide and seek, she hid far, far away. Too far away and she did have her doubts. She thought maybe she should walk back a little closer. But she heard footsteps and thought it was the seeker and quickly shoved the thought away. But as the footsteps crept closer, she realizes there was more than one footstep. And then she could hear voices. Two voices. Male voices. Before she could comprehend, those two men were in front of her and tried to grab her arms and legs. The little girl kicked and punched. Shoved and squirmed. But they managed to get a hold of her and tasered her. The next time she woke up, she was in a room full girls and some boys. All on the floor, eyes empty, all dirty and messy. The little girl couldn't believe what she was seeing and couldn't believe the situation she was in. She wanted to get out. She screamed and screamed. But her screams were left unheard. It was left unheard for a long time."
She pauses once again. This time out of hesitation.
I begin to glide my hands up and down her back, hoping to reassure her.
"And then, all of a sudden, the only door to the room opens, and a man approaches the little girl, before grabbing her and forcing her to walk into another room. Raised to be strong, the little girl once again attempts to attack and tries to break free. But she was injected with drugs that made her movements limp but was left conscious enough to grasps what was going on around her. Her anatomy was violated, her will disregarded and the long hair she loved so much was used for pleasure. In the span of two days, this course of action repeated itself another three times. By the third time, she didn't even try to break free. She didn't struggle. She just let it happen. Because the little girl leant that there was no point. It was going to happen whether she tried or not. Luckily for her, her family found her and killed every person who was directly involved with me and left the rest under the hands of police force and the children were set free. But . . . even though this only lasted two days, most likely nothing as long as the children who were already there experienced, those two dark days stuck with her. In front of her, in her nights, everywhere she went. The little girl lost a sense of her and the world. She couldn't come near any men. She couldn't tolerate most people's touch."
Wait . . . what about her parents touch? Her brother's touch?
"The only person who's touch she didn't mind was the person who found her first and made it his personal mission to make sure I was safe wherever I went. It was her older brother. The little girls aversion to people and touch was so extreme, receiving medical attention was almost impossible and was sedated most of the time. So, the little girl's older brother learnt medicine to fix her where necessary. He learnt how to cut her hair because the little girl couldn't tolerate anyone touching her hair besides him and her mother. He cut her hair regularly so that it would never become long enough to remind her what it was once used for. The little girl found comfort and safety in his presence. But slowly she learnt to be a little bit independent. She would still prefer him close by but understood that can't always be the case. She chose to grow into someone who can protect herself. Grow into someone people should fear of. The little girl still has her dark nights and dark days, but she lives day to day. She now sometimes finds calm, happiness, and fun days." She finishes.
I let it all sink in.
Everyone involved were already dead.
But she still continues to suffer. Those two days follow and haunt her in her sleep. Just like it had a mere hour ago.
"I think the little girl is resilient and brave. I think the little girl doesn't fully understand how strong she is." I say letting my gaze hover over her.
"The little girl isn't strong. But yes, I think she is resilient and a little bit brave." She dips her head lower as though she wants to hide away. I don't want her to ever hide away from me.
"She is strong. Everyone copes differently and that's okay. But she learnt to overcome and power through. Those who are strong are capable of that."
She looks up at me, her eyes in disbelief. Doubtful.
I don't want to ever doubt how strong or brave she was.
"Perhaps. But the little girl hopes to be stronger."
"Tell her she already is."
She smiles. A small smile. But a genuine smile. It was when I realise, she didn't pretend to be apathetic or unemotional here. She displayed anger, displeasure, vulnerability, sadness, fear, a little bit of hope.
She was being true to herself in front of me.
I wanted to keep it that way forever.
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