Transcendence

18: Wading

**TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD! CHILD/SEXUAL ABUSE, GRAPHIC SEXUAL EXPERIENCE!!!!**  

Sometimes, I feel like a duckling. A baby who hasn't fully gripped walking yet. So, I move my feet and waddle to and fro.. to and fro. Frustrated that I can't walk like Mama Duck. But... shouldn't it be enough that I'm trying? Even if I make mistakes?

*****

A few weeks later....

She set the bags down on the table and unzipped her coat. A quick trip to the local market had turned into a few hours while she bought food items for the whole week. It was chilly outside today and she was glad that she had her winter coat. Course, it didn't beat New York but it was a close second. Before she began to take the items out of the bags, she flicked on the small nearby television complementary of her apartment complex. A news reporter appeared on the screen and she sighed and reached into her bags. Tonight, she thought she'd make some Mediterranean salad with a homemade vinaigrette and some fruit salad. Tomorrow, something more hearty since it was still very cold outside.

She was proud of herself. She'd continued going to the weekly scheduled sessions with Dr. Gupta and was amazed at the progress she felt she was making. Sometimes, they would just sit in her office and laugh. She'd tried to get Gupta to share bits of her life and to her surprise... she had managed to get some tidbits out of her. Dr. Gupta was a young 33 years old and already a practicing clinical psychologist. Not only was that impressive but she also had a boo.

 While Gupta tried to skirt around that subject, she tried every time to bring that up. She was not going to let up until she spilled the beans. Smiling to herself, she sighed. As she laid the contents of the bags on the counter, the thought about the first time she had tried cooking came across her mind. Tightening her jaw she gripped the bags. Why when she was thinking about all the good times did a bad memory have to come up? Swallowing tightly, she felt the memory come forth and squeezed her eyes tight. She could never forgot her firsts.

*****

"Sweetheart, do you like Daddy?" A gruff voice asked in the darkness as fingers slid across her skin. She buried her face into the mattress and tightened her legs together, the feeling of something sticky still in between.

"You playing shy now baby?" His touch made her shiver and she wanted to bite his fingers off.

"N-No..." At her tone, the man smirked.

"Daddy's hungry." His breath was rank with the smell of cigarettes and booze and it made her eyes water. It didn't phase her anymore. Hungry was a code word. A word meaning he wanted more sex. More of her being. She felt empty as she slowly sat up and turned to face him. His eyes grew a glow with lust and his fingers skimmed down her breasts, still forming and growing.

"You're such a good girl Ebere."

"Thank you Daddy." She said in an almost robotic tone before pressing her small hands on his course chest.

"I'm glad we have this time to spend together. Don't you?" She gently climbed on top of him and looked into his eyes, not truly seeing.

"Yes...me too." The man had become a blur. She'd come in contact with so many of them that after a while they blurred together into one big blob of a face.

"Pete trained you well. You know just what to do without even being asked." He was one who she had come to think secretly envied the man he called Pete. When he would request her, he always made her say such strange things... things that made her feel dirty. Things about how she liked him better and the thing between his legs better than Pete. It was always Pete with this one.