I Survived The Witch [#1] ✓ [Follow Freelove to Read]

## Sammy 02 A4CC4 28-09-09

Can't see the Private chapters?  You have to fan me then use the instructions/link on my profile to access them!

This video was in a different format all together, it wasn’t armature footage filmed on a hand-held camera.  It was a series of camera’s propped in various hallways, hidden in rooms, or other various places.  The video started with a hall camera.  Sammy was seen walking down the bland hall, her feet sticking slightly to the wooden floorboards.  As soon as she was out of the shoot the video flipped to a different screen. 

This second screen was in a kitchen, an eyeball camera somewhere near the top center of the room with a 180 degree viewpoint.  All I could see was her brown hair from the top of her head.  Sammy walked to the middle of the kitchen and opened the fridge.  She pulled some milk out of the fridge, opened its top and smelled it, shrugged and set it on a small counter adjacent to the fridge.  She let the fridge door close itself and moved to the left to open a cabinet.  She pulled out a large square box, cereal, and spun around to set it down next to milk.

She then opened a drawer right under where she had the milk and cereal and pulled out both a spoon and bowl.  She loudly set the utensils on the counter and poured the dry cereal into the bowl, not caring too much if a few of the flakes spread across the counter.  Milk went in after and she stood there, eating. 

For whatever reason she didn’t bother sit at the stool right next to her nor did she move out of the kitchen to a probable other location which would have a table.  The video hung like this for some time, watching her eat.  She was slow and refilled the bowl once both with cereal and a little bit more milk.

Once she finished she turned to stick the milk back in the fridge, but left the bowl, spoon, and box on the counter right where she had them when she finished.  She turned and left.  The camera switched back to the one in the hall.  She was walking back down the hall, this time with her face towards the screen.

  She was wearing beige night gown, a single-piece that hung loosely on her shoulders and went down past her knees.  I could see her cheeks had lost that glimmer she had in the previous video, they looked shallow and her general mass looked to be a lot less—like she really hadn’t been eating much.  She looked sickly.  Her hair was tangled and it looked like she hadn’t bathed in several days.

At the end of the hall she turned into a room.  The camera changed again.  This wasn’t the room she used in her videos—her bedroom.  This room had white carpet, white walls, and was filled with garment racks. These racks were littered with dresses, hundreds of them, and not one of these dresses looked suitable for public viewing—they were all torn, burned, cut, dirtied, smashed, ruined, and anything else one could think of to ruin clothing.  These were the dresses she wore in those videos.  This was a graveyard of the abuse done to her.

In the center of the room, surrounded by the dresses, was an opening of sorts.  She shuffled into this opening and sat down on the carpet.  Her knees went up, her head went down, and she started crying.  I knew right then there were more dresses in that room than the videos I’d had on the previous tape, how long had this abuse been going on for—why did she still partake in it?  Hundreds of ruined dresses, hundreds of times she’d been beaten, broken, spat on, had dirt thrown at her, and filmed all the while.  Why did she put up with it so many times?  What was the point?

Her head lifted up, like she heard something.  She turned to the side—to a corner that was off the camera.  “Who are you?” she sniffed, “What do you want? Why are you here?”  Whatever was off screen didn’t answer.  “What? What! Yes, I’m crying want to take a fucking picture.  Everyone just wants a fucking picture!”  She reached for something that was apparently under her legs and threw some sort of small metal box off the screen—her handheld camera probably.

Her pitched heightened and slid on her butt away from the center, “Why won’t you talk? Say something!”  The person she was talking to finally came into the picture. It was a short creature with large pointy ears and calloused skin. But his height wasn’t the concern; it was the fact that his skin was green.  He also was fit with green hair, a nifty green tuxedo, and a large green ring on one of his pointer fingers.

“Who are you? Just go away!” she tried to scoot back a little bit more but with two strides he was right on her.  His stubby fingers went for her, touching her leg.  Her body gently rolled back, her arms floated down to her sides like they were falling through water, and her legs slid out slowly, flattening with the ground.  She was still, she was quite.  Her eyes were still opened as and she watched the camera. Well I’m still not sure if she actually knew it was there, at least it looked like she’s looking right into the camera.

“Now, now, this I have to see.” The Green Man spoke, reaching his fingers under her nightgown.  She didn’t speak, she didn’t cringe, she didn’t even move.  His head went under her dress with his fingers.  I could see his fingers reaching up her stomach and catch the top of her underwear.  It looks like he pulled it down and held them there for a moment—some movements, I couldn’t see what, then he pulled her underwear back up and backed out from under her clothing.

“Well then, how does a girl of your reputation and occupation go so long without being deflowered?”  He sneered, “All these dresses, all those boys, all that attention you wanted and fed off of—all that you gave to them and not one of them had the heart or soul to fuck you for it… Makes you feel dirty doesn’t it? You, not being worthy enough for them, you, worth beating, but not even worth the time to screw… so pitiful…” 

The green man grabbed her ankle with one hand and yanked, she started sliding.  He dragged her across the view of the camera and off into the corner he started in where the camera couldn’t see.