Warning:
-Swearing
-Implied no consent
-Implied pedophilia
-Non proofread
I swear it has a meaning 😭, also can anyone tell me how to post things without having to do it on news
Or am I just stuck like this
WHAT DO I DO
Anywho I hope this is good 😭(first chapter btw idk how long it took)
Dont ask me to name this, also the person that's narrating is a different character. Not me.
ALSO IM NOT PEDOPHELIC I TOOK INSPO FROM ANOTHER GAME AND MADE A STORY PLEASEE DONT JUDGE ME THIS GENUINLY HAS A MEANING(meaning becomes more clear in other chapters if my writers block doesn't stop me)
Also I got lazy at the end
Anyways SERIOUSLY I HATE PEDOPHILES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT JUDHE AT ALL OR I WILL LITERALLY DIE PLEASE 😭😭😭😭
Also please feel bad for this character I beg of anyone who's reading my crappy shit
Also new art coming out(I might as well put myself as artist cause idk how to post actual writing shit I'd not think it exists)
Anyways sorry about that, Heres the story ig(SERUOUSLY. I WAS WRITING THIS WHEN I FELT LIKE DOING THIS. DO. NOT. I hate pedophiles and I wish for the best and will help anyone who has to go through SA, pleas eim here to help if you go through any terrible shit, as a writer, artist and person <3)
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The sun split my eyes open, blinking through the bright, sudden rays. I turn to my alarm clock. 8 am. Monday. I sighed and sat up, putting a hand to reflect the sunlight from my face. Another day. I sat up. Empty. As always. I looked around the familiar space around me, my room. Numerous poster hung along the barren walls, nonsense to my eyes. Things I stole to my father. AC/DC, Red Dead Redemption, and some cat posters. Something to spice up the emptiness. But it just didn't feel right. I got up from my bed, my bed creaking in some way as my weight was taken off its rigidity structure. The pant pajamas I wore tugged as they snuck under my barefootd feet when I stepped along the creaking wooden boards of the house. I rubbed my eyes as I stepped down the stairs. Pictures of me, my mom, and my dad were sparked along the walls of the stairs. All of which were they happy. But my face just a void of nothing. As always.
I stepped into the kitchen of the house, the smell of breakfast hitting me. Surprising, I’d usually smell it when I came out of my room. My mom stood at the stove, a mitt on her right hand with a pan wrapped around her tight but gentle grip. Precise, professional. I admit it, its fascinating to see her so calm when the oil could burn her. Burn this entire house.. Stop. No. Don't-
“Hello, dear!” She broke my thoughts with her cheery voice, her blue eyes now pinned on me. I simply wave. Not one with words. Speaking never intrigued me. Her smile somehow turned brighter, now turned back to the food.
“Go check on your father, will ya?” She requested with slight hestiance, I could tell. I shrugged, and looked around the kitchen, my absent-mindedness blocking and bouncing the words from my mind. I payed more attention around the kitchen, staring at each detail for the 500th time. As always. The fridge, plain, the table, an unpleasing brown, the counters, boring, the stove, crackling nonsense I hate. Everything. The same. The tucking same… suddenly I hear my breath going out of control. Finally, a crack in this plain, plain house.
In a flash my mother appeared, worry splattered all across her visage. Brows furrowed, her lips turned towards in a frown, her eyes glinting with concern. She helped me calm down, her voice muffled and distant to me. But nothing worked. I needed this. Panic suddenly hit my body. Panic. From what? I don't know. My heart skyrocketed. Late. Too late. Suddenly I couldn't handle it. I hated it. No, stop. Stop! I commanded myself, feeling something wet slide across my cheeks.
Panic radiated through my veins, my stomach, my brain. Invading. Perhaps there was so much that it made my knees buckle up. I was caught by the familiar hands of my mother. Finally, the panic started to leak through. Probably from the liquid coming from my blurred eyes.
My moms voice slowly came into my mind, her thumbs wiping off the droplets from my face. Hey, don't let the panic get you too! I thought, my gaze trained on her thumb. Finally, I could here the familiar stove, but quiet, and more importantly, my moms voice.
“Honey!! Honey, its okay, its okay..” I could tell she was struggle don't to cry. Don't panic yourself. I tried to let a smile crack on my emotionless face. I managed to. The result was a sigh of relief from my mother. Good. She didn't need what I had.
“Its okay.”
Suddenly I was pulled into a tight squeeze. My mom had my body wrapped around her arms. She was crouching. My father wasn't in the room. Good.
“I-” I started, only to be cut off by my mother, “I know what your going to say, and its fine. Just.. Go sit with your father on the couch for now,” she sighed and let me go, helping me stand upright, then she did the same without the helping psrt. Her face a mirror to me. I nodded weakly, finding myself wiping off the liquid now. It was quite annoying.
I barely comprehend that my feet made me go into the living room, my mind too occupied on the walls. The barren, repetitive color. Boring. Boring! No, push those thoughts away. I could feel panic hiding behind them. Not again. My gaze was suddenly trained on my father, who didn't even look at me. He already knew I was a mess.
“Stop having panic attacks kiddo,” he blurted out slowly, munching on some Lays chips. Alas, my father was a wise man.(BRO WHY DID THAT SANDY(Spongebob Squarepants character) SONG CALLED ‘MHMM’ COME ON 😭😭) I hummed to agree, then sat my ass down on the couch, 2 feet away from my father on the couch. The couch was strangely wet. I shivered and wanted to throw up. Not again. Repeated, repeated , repeated! I just want to- no! Two slate voices fighting. But- no! Don't! I listened to the one declining, staring at the nonsense on the TV. The couch was an ugly bright red. Possibly the only true color in this goddamn house. I could feel the couch tensing, something coming closer. My father. I edged back to the left, my brows flattening. I wanted to scream at him. But he backed down, thankfully. His munching and the TV was too much sameness.
Maybe the store clerk could help me.
Wait. My clothing. Still pajamas. I sighed and got up. Fully calmed down. The previous moment forgotten. I walked by the same walls, the same hallways, up the same stairs, by the same pictures, down into the same room. Same. The only comfort was my room. Where my bed lies. Giving me dreams, nightmares, something to spice up my mind, only to completely vanish as it overrode with each reoccurring day. As if I'm trapped in a constant loop, no way out- No! Don't think about that.
I then realize Di was just standing in the opening to my room. I didn't have a door. Staring at nothing. I sighed and enterred, my heart set on the closet, but my feet drew me to the window. I was about to curse at myself before noticing something. A car. Normal. But something seemed.. Off. A break in the cycle? I shrugged and went back to my routine.
I slipped on an outfit. This should do. I didn't bother looking in the mirror. I didn't need to. I went through everything again. Overused memories, words, etc etc. I called out to my mom that I was going to the store, and without further elaboration, I swung opened the door and slammed it a bit too hard.
As I always do.
I walk across the concrete pathway of my house, seeing the familiar fencing separating the lawns of me and my neighbours house. Oh how I hated that guy. If I'm gonna guess, he was on the porch. Smoking weed. Already stoned.
As my predictive implied, there he was, the irritatingly strong scent of disgustingness hit my senses before I could stop it. The only thing that could get me to react.
Mauruana.
Reminded me of my dad.
He laughed at my reaction and got up, I could already hear the old rocking chair creak under his fat ass. I would glare, but I'm too lazy to, besides I was too busy trying to get the stench off my nose, but it only came closer as his sneakers eechoed across the sidewalk and creeped closer to me. I backed away.
“Aw, you scared, punk?” His annoying and mocking voice rung out. I scoffed and, looking both ways, dashed across the street, watching his snarky smirk sastifiingly turned into an annoying glare. He yelled something, but I didn't hear it as the familiar bell of the store rung out. Something that I hated. Annoying. Just like the ringing voice of that jerk. The familiar store clerk I call my “partner” was across the ugly grey countertops. I hated the store. It had people. And more infuraintingly, it had him.
Alan.
His eyes turned towards the sound of the bell, his chapped ahh crusty ahh lips spread into a smile.
“Ah, its you Belle!” He greeted with his stupid grin. Hiding all his sin. Innocent. I wanted to stra- no. Stop. Not now. I waved in response, looking away. Before I realized my mistake he was already across the counter tops and ripped my head up to his face with his index finger on my chin. Get the fuck off me! My body screamed. I tensed.
“Now now, what did I say about eye contact?” I could already smell the threatening and dark undertone. I shrugged, trying to look at anything besides his fugly face. But he lightly slapped me, making my eyes flash to his boring brown ones. Like my table. Ugly, repeated, predictable, unwelcome. He giggled at my monotone stare.
“Youre too cute~” he teased as he stepped back a bit. I don't even know why I went here. What was I thinking? I made myself get dressed for this bi- stop. I commanded myself to stop the thoughts again. All trapped in my mind. When I flashed back to reality, he was already at the other end of the countertops again, sorting out some boxes, Probably for the neighbors’ twin brother. Filled to the brim with Diet Pepsi. The one trait about him that was bad. I then immediately shut down those thoughts, knowing what they’d lead to.
As if Alan knew what I was thinking about, his fingers wrapped around my chin and thruster me coward, making me nearly stumble, but catching myself on the counter. I was in an awkward position, being forced to look into the ugly dark brown orbs of his. His visage was filled with dark intention.
“Dont think about that guy down the street. He’s not work your time,” I could feel his finger trace my collarbone. I hated it. I hated him so fucking much. But.. If I tried to.. Reflect him, repercussions appear. “8 pm. My place. Sharp. One minute late and you won't walk for a week,” his voice pressed into my mind, the useless sir from his mouth swirled with seductivity and rage. He then covered it up, possibly for the camera and let me go.
“Why are you here again?” He finally got over himself. Took his long enough. But his question was good. But my mind was too occupied on what he said. Not again.. Everyone, besides 3 people, wanted me. Wanted me. Craved me. But I hated them. Reflected them. Everyone just wanted me as a Fuxk toy, a tool, something to play with. To control. Those 3 people who didn't want me were my mother, and the two boy neighbors across the street. Those 3 people deserved my attention. But not the plump neighbor boy. Just leave me alone.(FURRYMON CAME ON???)
Anyways, I shrugged. Now satisfying his need for attention. Pick-me. He wave sme out. I could finally get out, and tried to zoom out, before I felt something could take hold of my arm.
“Ah ah ah, kiss on the cheek,” he demanded more than asked, but still innocent. Somehow. I suppress a scoff as he lowered his cheek to my level. Begrudgingly, I kissed it. Always like this.
Then, he let me go, and I walked out.
The day flew by, as always.
Doing the same thing. As always.
I ate the same dinner. As always
With the same family.
As always.
Then, my head snapped to the clock on the wall. 7:49 pm. Shit. I shot out of my chair, with fell to the floor, sastifiyngly. My legs were out the door and zooming to the storeclerks house. I want to walk. I don't want.. That to happen. Or at least as bad as it could be. In the small, cut off community of the population being 10, everything was a fair walking distance. I finally arrived at his house. 7:52. I could feel sweat drip down the sides of my face. I was bet with a stern glare from Alan.
“Good. You aren't late,” he grumbled before forcing me inside roughly. I hit the opposite wall. Here we go again.
~~~~
Slamming. Screaming, muffled.
Same.
As.
Always.
I just want out of this loop…
~~~
I stumbled into my house. Hair askew. Mind scrambled. I glanced at the clock. 12 pm. 5 rounds. Surprising for the storeclerk. Guess he didn't have much in stock. Not that I needed it. I could feel tears glaze my cheeks as I walked up the barren stairs.
I needed sleep.
Sleep.
But when the next sensation I feel is my comforting bed underneath me, it didn't come.
No.
Not now.
But then, I could feel the familiar tug of exhaustion.
I sighed.
And fell deep into unconsciousness.
Mind only filled with clocks
Tick tock
Endless
Forever.
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A/N: IT HAS A MEANING PEOPLE
Part two(if wanted) is coming(the only reason its rated T is bc there the mentions of guns and robbery. I don't think that's appropriate for everyone.) Also TYSM FOR RANDONLY FOLLOWING ME TANGERINE I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT- You make fire music I'm just gonna say that.