Don’t bother Foster Care because I haven’t been one since 1999! I will NEVER kill myself, feel guilty because of your psychosis or believe anything you say. I rue the day I decided to not have an abortion and terminate YOU! You are the CUNT! LEAVE ME ALONE!! This is my last response to you. You are dead to me!! GET OVER IT!!

You know it is all true, cunt. So do I, since I HAVE VERIFIED IT AT THE SOURCE.

Mind you, this is a woman who was so desperateto weasel her way back into my life, just two years ago, that she enlisted her “wife” to add me on facebook as a gaming friend.

This is also a woman who claims she wanted to have me so much, she deliberately chose my father for a one night stand. Although in some of her stories, the condom broke. Still others have me being adopted.

She is clearly insane.

Don’t you fucking DARE speak a word to me.

I may, or may not, murder her one day soon by drilling her through the vagina.

M’kay, pumpkin?

A young man rests slouched, in a large chair beside a couch. He is blonde, dressed in black, and I can’t tell you who he is now, but I trust him and love him then. He looks at me with hooded eyes, smiles, and says “come snuggle and watch tv with me”.

I run to him and he helps me up, as I clamber onto the chair in the way of all tiny children. I settle between his body and the crook of his arm, which is resting below my bottom. Happy, I put my arms around his neck and relax against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

Time passes. I am content and my eyes rest closed, with the lights of the flickering television dancing red inside my eyelids. The young man’s breathing quickens and I can feel his heart start pounding. He shifts and his fingers are inside my panties. I am too scared to move, so I lay still and shut my eyes tight, as he continues.

Time passes and he shifts again, breathing more heavily. I hear the sound of a zipper and he picks me up and straddles me over his exposed penis. Gently maneuvering my panties over my bottom and down my thighs, he grabs my hips and waist (his hands cover both). I start to cry as he grinds our pelvises together, closing his eyes and moaning. Time passes.

He convulses, gripping me hard enough to hurt and then he opens his eyes and apologizes. We are both a mess and he rises with me in his arms, saying”let’s get you cleaned up” as he carries me to the bathroom…

Is this enough to get that piece of me back? I really hope so.

Consider this:
Thousands (pehaps even millions) of men, women, and chidren are being raped right now, as I write this. No one deserves it, so why shouldn’t the next one be the person whose ignorance and lack of compassion ensures this happens exponentially more than it otherwise would?

Most rapes occur because society turns its collective head and allows it.

You screamed at me, slapping my face and grabbing a fistful of my hair, you dragged me into the bathroom where you forced yourself into my mouth again. You then pulled my head away and held it, by my hair, over the toilet bowl until I was done retching. You repeated this process until I had nothing left to vomit and could only heave, after which you commenced to finish raping my throat, moaning in ecstasy and grinding your crotch into my face every time I retched and my throat convulsed and tightened on you.

When you came, you held your hand over my mouth and nose until I swallowed. I did, after a few seconds, but not without choking and gagging. You didn’t care about that. You were already yanking me onto the floor by my ankles, so you could ram your tongue into my vagina with such force my head kept slamming into the side of the tub. You intermittently came up for air and to yell about how you were doing this to show me how easy it was to just give fucking head.

You’re right. I am such a spoiled little brat. It is your fault, you know, for treating me like a princess.

You spent several hours building up to raping me; fondling and licking me, fingering and grinding on my body. By the time you did rape me, I couldn’t cry anymore until you forced yourself into me and it felt like my entire body would tear up the middle. I started to scream and you crushed my face with your shoulder. I thought you were killing me and I would be dead any second, the pain was so intense. There was no way I could hurt so much, feel such sharp pain exploding through my hips, belly and ribs into my chest and survive. So I sobbed and waited to die. My cries echoed around my head as though they were coming from somewhere else and it seemed at the same time, I was also behind us and I could see your back, moving against me. You covered my body almost completely except where my legs protruded from yours. After awhile, you convulsed and cried out, driving into me harder than ever. Then it was over and I was still alive and though I couldn’t breathe with you collapsed on top of me, the pain lessened because you stopped moving. I was covered in your sweat and wracked with chills when you withdrew, my teeth chattering as you stared at me.

Your face seemed consumed with an awful nothingness and I thought you were disappointed, even angry, that you didn’t kill me as you held out your hand and said to get up. You quickly grew impatient when I didn’t take it and angrily snatched my hand with yours, yanking me to my feet. My knees buckled but you yanked me back up and pulled me to the bathroom by my arm. You pushed me into the shower and turned the water on, telling me to wash myself. I stood there crying and you told me sternly to do it or you would hurt me again. So I did, but faltered as I soaped myself because it burned in the tears you’d left. You reached into the shower and handling me roughly while I cried, finished washing me and pulled me out of the shower. As you sat me on the toilet to dry me off, you were hard again and tried to put it in my mouth but I was still too small so you forced me back to the bed and raped me again. After a second shower without incident, you drove me back to my complex and left me there to walk home. My idiot mother never called the police or took me to a doctor, she just gave me some weird cream I have never seen again, when I told her I was hurting between my legs.

You think I should feel compassion, that after 40 years of causing misery, of hauling yourself upright on the backs of countless innocent children, that you deserve sympathy for your eventual death as the result of your own gluttony? Just kill yourself. Put your gun in your fat fucking mouth and pull the trigger.