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Stolen
The water poured from the faucet, slowly filling the plastic cup she held in her hands. She didn’t notice when it flowed over the top and began to trickle down her fingers, but she was keenly aware of everything else. The way her chest rose and fell with each controlled breath, how the taste of metal was overpowering in her mouth, the way every sound seemed heightened….
“Hush,” he had whispered sweetly. “There’s nothing wrong with this.”
Was it wrong? She had tried to push him away, but he was too strong. Her stomach had turned every time she felt his hot breath against her skin. His hands had held hers above her head to make it harder to struggle.
“I love you, it’s not wrong if I love you. I’m showing how much I love you,” he had said.
What’s was wrong with her father showing his love?
The cup dropped out of her hands and clanked loudly in the metal sink. She closed her eyes tightly and gripped the edge of the counter. On her clothes she smelled him, the scent lingering like a cloud around her body, clogging her pores, soaking into her skin. She grabbed at the shirt, hectically pulling it over her head. She had to escape….
He had kissed her neck, touched her face….
She gripped her bare sides, trying to replace the feeling of his touch. Her eyes were squeezed so tight the tears she was holding back began to leak out and trail down her cheeks.
Everything had been wrong. He had stolen her body.
A sob escaped her lips and she sank down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Maybe she could become small enough. The tears flowed freely now, dropping on her chest and lips. Maybe she could become small enough to disappear. The salt from her tears burned her cracked lips and she hugged herself tighter. Maybe she could make it all go away….