One Last Time

I closed my eyes as the tears rolled down my face. I didn’t know what to do other than wish for life to be different. Everything went to shit and meant nothing anymore.

The last time I saw him my heart broke. His face wasn’t graced with a smile anymore and I couldn’t understand where I went wrong. Was I not enough for him? Even though I loved him with all my heart, he didn't feel the same for me. I wonder if he ever did. Self-doubt made a few more tears fall from my eyes. He hadn’t even gotten close to me to say goodbye.

I knew I was going to miss the way he calmed me down with one touch. I knew he wasn't going to think about it at all. He didn’t want me anymore. His last words made that clear.

The floor was the only place that made me feel better, it was cold and reassuring. It reminded me that I wasn’t going to fall anymore. No more let downs. 

I grabbed my phone and opened my eyes. I took in a sharp intake of breathe and unlocked the screen. I had to try one more time.

The phone rang but there was no answer. I cried in silence, letting the defeat sink into me. I loved him. I knew I would be doing so forever.

As a last hope, I opened up Messenger. I prayed he would be online. He was.

“Hi,” I sent him scared he wouldn’t reply at all.

The message was read soon after. The suspense killed me slightly until the three dots appeared on the screen. I saw them vanish and come back after a few minutes. My heart raced in my chest. What was he typing for so long?

“I will block you.”

That hurt more than anything ever did. I let out a yelp, trying to contain my tears to no avail.

“Wait,” I sent. “Please. Before you block me.” The broken sentence structure wasn’t new to him. I was always too excited to send only one message. This time, I was too afraid he would just leave me forever.

“I’m here,” he typed.

I breathed deeply. What was I looking for anyway? Acceptance? Forgiveness? I didn’t know.

“Is there any chance you could say it even though you don’t mean it,” no punctuation. There was no time for that. “Just once more,” I waited a few more seconds but he wasn’t typing. “The last time ever.”

For a long minute, there was no answer. Absolutely nothing. It’s almost like I could see him hesitating before answering me.

“Isn’t that going to hurt you more?”

I laughed through the tears. Now he cared if it was going to hurt me. Did he not think of that before breaking up with me?

“Say it back even though you don’t mean it,” it felt like I was begging him. I knew that I was, to be honest. “No. It won’t.”

Again no instant answer. I thought back to the times where he would answer back in a second. How could life be so cruel? How come I would never be able to lay down next to him? That he would never kiss me like he used to? Was this even a world that I wanted to live in? No.

“Okay.”

My heart beat faster, I could hardly believe it.

“I promise.” I didn’t know what exactly, but I thought it was important to say it. “Goodnight I love you.”

This time it took only a fraction of a second. Almost like he simply wanted me to leave him behind for good. Or maybe it was just force of habit. Whatever it was, it made me feel loved.

“I love you.” I thought that would be the end of it but then the three dots came back. “Sleep well.”

I decided I would. If this was going to be the last time I would hear this.

Tales of a Handicapped Teenage Girl

Mother cares about me. I see the way she behaves, the way she goes that extra mile. I know she loves me, specially when I am being difficult. Well, more than usual.

I hate myself. The way that I was born. I am not like everyone else. Mother says I’m special. Am I? I don’t think so. I am out of ordinary, but I would never call myself special. I am bad and my condition makes it so bad for everyone around me.

Despite all the patience in the world, no one can handle me for too long. There is only so much one can take when it comes to taking care of me. I reckon that I am more difficult than a child should ever be. But even right now, with my eighteen years of age, I am but a baby in the world’s eyes. I cannot do a single thing by myself. In my mind, I can think like everyone else. Even so, the connection between my brain and my mouth is not enough. Not even close. I cannot speak properly. I cannot walk. I throw tantrums every so often. But it’s not just my body that is broken.

I try to forget, but I can’t. I remember every single detail. Mother left me in the care of uncle. He was nice at first, but when it all — me — became too much he cracked under pressure. Some would say that my clothes were too revealing. Some would say that it was my fault. Most would never know. But in reality, uncle’s hands found their way up my legs. If anyone would walk in he would say he was changing me. That I am so broken, I couldn’t even do that by myself. He trailed my skin slowly and as he touched between my legs, I trashed my body around trying to stop him. One of his hands hit me in the face and I cried.

Unlike others, I sounded like a dying whale. Guttural noises followed by wet trails that were left by tears. Uncle told me to ‘Shut it’. I couldn’t. Not really. His words echoed around my brain for so long, trying to stop me from crying but my body was broken. Or so I told myself. The wheelchair was out of reach. My legs wide open. He had all the things he needed. He took my panties away. I knew Mother should have never bought such nice ones. One of his hands found its way up to my breast. I cringed. Or my brain did. I had no control over my body. His penis penetrated me and more tears followed. I was all alone in the world. Nobody understood me. Uncle’s voice made sure to reassure me of that. I hated that. His poisonous mouth found its way to mine. His tongue was in my mouth and I bit him. It was an accident. I swear it was. But Uncle didn’t believe me. He pushed himself harder. He made sure that everything hurt and that he wouldn’t leave much of a mark. Mother would see me afterward, wouldn’t she?

When he finished he left me there crying. He placed my underwear back on me and went back to watch TV. Mother arrived around an hour later. She thanked him for watching over me. ‘It’s always a pleasure.’ I hate him. Mother would never know. His smile was too fake, how did she not see it? Mother asked if everything was all right, ‘She caused another scene… Nothing out of the ordinary. Don’t worry about it, I handled it.’

Mother would never know. Mother even thanked him. Even now, when Mother is telling me he is dead. ‘A car crash, can you believe it? Oh, what will we do without him? He was so supportive of you.’ I can’t stop myself. I cry. The dying whale comes back and Mother thinks I am sad. Mother’s words trying to reassure me ‘He is in a better place now, dear’ only do worse. No one will ever know. Only my broken brain and broken body will tell the story.

Part 1

[NSFW]

I was standing in front of you, we had the whole place for ourselves and we planned on taking that to our advantage. I remember your fingers tracing my shoulders and finding their way to the nape of my neck. Your palm hoovered my skin and I shivered. It was almost like your warmth was so close but never reaching me.

I closed my eyes and tilted my neck. I wanted to give you as much access as I could. It was perfect that way. I didn't know what to expect so when your lips touched my neck I felt my legs giving up ever so slightly. I tried to stay calm. To take in deep breaths. To not be affected by you. It was impossible. You were everything I could think about.

I wasn't expecting it when your hands started unbuttoning my shirt, I definitely was not expecting it when you ran out of buttons and instead of taking the shirt off completely moving on to the next piece of garment. I shivered as your fingers moved above my stomach. You stoped for a second and kissed my neck. It was sweet. I let out a deep breath and when I decided to relax and just ignore how affected I was, your fingers touched my jeans. You opened the button and unzipped my trousers. I opened my eyes only slightly and saw the way you were looking at me. There was a hunger in your eyes. Like you were about to eat me alive. I liked it.

You took off my pants, kneeled down on the floor and let me hold your shoulder for support as I lifted my legs one at the time. You looked up at me and smiled. I looked away, embarrassed with the way you were now looking at me. I was definitely not used to this kind of thing. I was hoping you would go back to taking off my shirt but you decided against it. Instead, you ran your fingers up against the skin of my legs and I shivered. I felt hot everywhere you touched and my body was more than begging me for you to keep going. You touched me right above my underwear and I moved my hips towards you. I wanted more. 

As you took my underwear off, I felt the cold air touch me and its contrast with the warmth of my skin was all I wanted when it happened. As soon as i got used to it, I wanted more. I wanted to do the exact same to you. With my panties on the floor and my shirt half open, I held your hand and pulled you up. I failed of course. I only managed to lift your arm. You snickered a laugh and got up.