You don't control me, Dixon

➋ 50- Yeet

♤

I curl up on my windowsill and look out the night sky. It was almost Halloween. The leaves fell and the grass gets frosty at night.

I sigh and press my cheek into the cold glass, childishly wishing if I could have one wish I'd want a friend from the stars, they'd keep me company. I smile softly as I imagine a person clad in shimmer walking down from the sky and greeting me with a nose kissy.

As I glance at my clock I realize that it won't be happening for a long time.

11:57

A few moments longer. A few moments longer and I'll get a email from my teacher to see if I can skip my grade. But we had talked and apparently I need to meet with the superintendent in person.

And I don't think that I can do that.

I flinch as someone slams into my door. I sigh and cover my ears. The fullness of silence killing me.

Dad had people and scandalously dressed women. The only part that I'm confused about is why they wear bathing suits in fall?

I slam my head into my window as my door unexpectedly opens.

I scramble to my feet to face the man like dad said I should do.

My heart skips a beat as the mans disgusting smile creeped up. I snap my eyes to the floor and pull at the bottom of my shorts, the still healing wounds of the regular still pink and tender.

But then again when am I ever fully healed? My skin always some shade of blue or purple.

Or just a tan if I'm lucky.

"Hey girly"

I shiver as he grabs me with his dirty hands, did he work in a coal field?

I gasp as his grasp tightens his other hand finding my face, yanking my face up to meet him.

His hungry eyes made me cringe. I gag as his hand slips from my arm to my mouth. Trying to pry it open.

I pull but he releases me and I go falling into my windowsill.

I groan softly and roll to my side, grabbing at my head. I gasp as he sits on me, his beer belly weighing painfully on my protruding ribs.

"Wanna play a game?"

I reel as far as I can and wiggle my legs pitifully. His dirty hand finds my throat and the other takes the opportunity of my mouth gasping to shove his pudgy fingers into my mouth.

I gag painfully as the dust enters my throat. As he shoves his fingers deeper down my throat I gag and watery bile bubbles up.

I gasp in needed air as his hand releases my throat with his dirty hand. I flinch voilently as I feel something hard against my stomach.

I stare as his now clean fingers find my throat as his other finds the fork of his pants. I try to claw at his hand as he groans over me. His hand pressing heavily on himself.

What on earth is he doing? Is he hurting himself?

I squeak as his hand slide off my throat to the top button of my sleep shirt that's already hanging off my shoulder. 

His yanks and the top falls, my regular sports bra the only thing hiding me from this man.

As as he starts at his pants I bring my knee up and into the thing in his pants, scrambling back into the wall as I gasp clean, unmusty air into my lungs.