Pedokiller

Chapter 1

He unzipped his dirty pants again. I knew what that meant. He wanted me to suck his rancid penis. I perched my lips and shut my eyes. I felt that hollow feeling creeping through my guts. A mix of pain and disgust flowed through me. I gagged from the stench and girth of it. He finished. I swallowed. He slapped me and left the room. The searing anguish burned my cheek. The fire inside me radiated like warm bath water.

I thought being molested was normal. Until I realized in school that it wasn't typical at all. Other kids didn't discuss being raped. I told my best friend and she stated at me with disgust. Her lip snarled to the side as if I was roadkill.

I was a 13 year old white female with long blonde hair. The slender American beauty. I grew up fast because of the subtle molestations. Puberty flew by like a bird flapping its wings in full force. By 18 I was bombshell. I felt myself becoming deadly.

My chipped painted nails clicked on the dash of my beater car. I was late for work again. Coffee in my hand I sprinted in. My red nails looked faded like my makeup. I didn't need any of this artificial nonsense to look pretty. I was beautifully broken. I also didn't need my bosses nonsense either.

"Hey babe you're late again," my sleazy boss stated.

"I'm sorry," I lied through my coffee stained teeth.

"Maybe a kiss would make it better," he slurred under his breath.

"In your wet dreams you fat slob," I muttered.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm sorry I'm late for my job," I replied.

"Don't let it happen again," he scolded and walked away.

That's the reality of womanhood. I'm sexually harassed on a daily basis. My body is seen as a sexual toy for men. Some men are such sexually deviant perverts. They always try to hit on me. As if I live to please them. I hate them. I hate most of them, and women too. Women that fall into their permiscious traps are almost as bad as the men who snare them.

My life was steady. I would work, sleep, eat, repeat. I worked for an office conning idiots into buying worthless insurance. I never felt guilt. If they were dumb enough to buy in then I didn't care. I didn't consider their lives. They were voices on phones, and none of them were real to me.

Everything in life was fine. Until I dropped my keys in broad daylight. I was tackled into a nearby van. The bright yellow van with sunshine painted on the sides. The ice cream trucks chime blaring so loudly that it muffled my terrified screams.

A chocolate coated hand clasped my mouth shut. I felt that familiar feeling of being raped again. I didn't fight back with a frozen knife stuck to my throat. I felt my blood trickle down the blade. The man was handsome and young. He smiled at he penetrated me. I pretended to enjoy the sex. He let his guard down as he came inside me. His grip loosened on the blade. I snatched the knife and shoved it through his five o' clock shadow.

His blood sprayed my face in crimson gysers. I smiled with delight as the life faded from his blue eyes. I stood up sliding in his blood puddle. I kicked him in the face with my heels. I slung my right shoe off. I stood on neck and watched his blood flow through my toes. I enjoyed a pedicure from a pedofile.