It’s not her fault. It’s not mine either. We’re just damned to survive in a life we were forced into. One of malice and hate, abuse and torture.
Some don’t make it. And those that do?
Well…
We’re never the same.
We come out the other side angrier, splintered and severed.
Though, for me, I’m dirtier, nastier. I take each new splintered piece, and I mold it into the vile person I am at my rotten core.
My tragedies have made me.
And I’m a fucking abomination.
Chapter Seven
Peris
I know I’m caught in a dream, each strand wrapped like a web around my consciousness. The weight of my body against the bed, the perspiration trickling down my temple, my ear, where it falls to the pillow below. My rigid muscles and veins pulsing.
I’m paralyzed.
Memories of my father still linger, like a snake slithering in and around, but the core of it has shifted.
It’s no longer him on top of me, but me on top of…
Abel,I croak out in my head. My fingers are dug deep into his hips, pinning him in place as I move above. I can’t stop blinking, trying to get the vision in front of me to distort, to change back to what it was.
Heat envelops my cock for the first time in years, and I lose everything around me.
My ears ring as my vision blanks out. Heavy pulses surround me, rippling and strangling me.
I choke. I can’t breathe.
I claw at my neck. My hands won’t move.
I buck. My hips remain motionless.
The heat is an inferno, suffocating.
It feels so real, more vivid than any terror I’ve had before. I’m grappling, clawing at the wall of oblivion.
Flesh on flesh, smooth against coarse. Shifting. Friction.
My hair scrapes against the pillowcase, echoing in my ear. The sharp whistle of breath between my teeth.
I wriggle my toes. I can feel them slide over the sheets.
Elated breaths punch out of me in quick succession.
Next, my fingertips. They flex against something smooth.
I rebel against the sensation.
Muscles twitch, waking back up.
It’s slow. Methodical. It takes so long, the hellfire spreads. It doesn’t hurt anymore.
