Post by Deleted on Apr 30, 2016 23:06:59 GMT -6
When everything always seemed to go bad at my parents house, one place that I could always find sanctuary was with my grandparents. I, just like every other child read Superman comic books and the one thing that I always wanted the most was my very own fortress of solitude. Whenever I locked myself away, I felt different every time that I had a comic book in hand because it took me away to a different place, it took me away from the harsh reality that I endured every single day.
I remember it like it was yesterday, sitting on the floor in my grandparents living room, curled up and enjoying the very newest edition of Superman and thinking to myself; how do I get away? My mama was always a very cruel woman, wanting to see me hurt, wanting to see papa, my own flesh and blood do things to me that most families never even dream of but in my case? She got off on it.
I remember a time when mama told papa to take me to their bedroom and give it to me as she liked call it and this wasn't my first time, no, it had become something regular around the house and every single time that papa let out a grunt of pleasure after thrusting inside of me, the only thing that I could look over to see was mama with her legs wide open, and her hands inside of her pink panties. She enjoyed it, she loved watching papa do things to me that most families would never dream of doing.
As I snapped out of my catatonic state, I realized that there was no escape, I didn't have a fortress of solitude, I didn't have any superpowers that would take me away or freeze them or melt them because all I was was a tiny little child, with no way to protect himself. You see, no amount of tears was going to stop it, no amount of begging or pleading was going to put an end to it and even though my grandparents knew that it was going on? They had no proof, they couldn't prove anything and it would be my word against theirs and of course – I would be out numbered and things would only continue to get worse from there.
So the question always ran through my mind, how do I get away, what do I do?
The answer was simple and it was always the same, nothing, that's what I could do, absolutely nothing. So one day, my parents were on their way to pick me up and my grandfather knew that – he knew that I was heading back home and he knew what was going to happen to me so he spent all weekend long working on a friend for me, creating me somebody to talk to, somebody to cry into and she is the most beautiful thing that I have ever laid eyes on.
With long, silky black hair and a pale face with no emotions whatsoever, for the first time, I can understand where she was coming from. I finally had a friend who understood how I felt, I finally had a friend who knew exactly what I was going through and her name is Elizabeth. Now you see, Elizabeth made all those "play times” with mama and papa not so bad because after Papa was finished? I would go back to my bedroom, curl in bed with her and tell her everything that went on. We became best friends in a hurry, we understood one another and still to this day – I take very good care of her, I make sure that absolutely nothing happens to her and each time that I run my large hand across her cold, porcelain face – I realize that she's all mine, I realize that she loves me for who I am and I know she's not going anywhere.
Elizabeth is Family, she will always be the first person that I run to when I need to talk and she will be there until the day that I draw my final breath; rest assured on that.
So who is Elizabeth? You would have to understand who my grandfather is first and in due time, you will understand more of my story!
I remember it like it was yesterday, sitting on the floor in my grandparents living room, curled up and enjoying the very newest edition of Superman and thinking to myself; how do I get away? My mama was always a very cruel woman, wanting to see me hurt, wanting to see papa, my own flesh and blood do things to me that most families never even dream of but in my case? She got off on it.
I remember a time when mama told papa to take me to their bedroom and give it to me as she liked call it and this wasn't my first time, no, it had become something regular around the house and every single time that papa let out a grunt of pleasure after thrusting inside of me, the only thing that I could look over to see was mama with her legs wide open, and her hands inside of her pink panties. She enjoyed it, she loved watching papa do things to me that most families would never dream of doing.
As I snapped out of my catatonic state, I realized that there was no escape, I didn't have a fortress of solitude, I didn't have any superpowers that would take me away or freeze them or melt them because all I was was a tiny little child, with no way to protect himself. You see, no amount of tears was going to stop it, no amount of begging or pleading was going to put an end to it and even though my grandparents knew that it was going on? They had no proof, they couldn't prove anything and it would be my word against theirs and of course – I would be out numbered and things would only continue to get worse from there.
So the question always ran through my mind, how do I get away, what do I do?
The answer was simple and it was always the same, nothing, that's what I could do, absolutely nothing. So one day, my parents were on their way to pick me up and my grandfather knew that – he knew that I was heading back home and he knew what was going to happen to me so he spent all weekend long working on a friend for me, creating me somebody to talk to, somebody to cry into and she is the most beautiful thing that I have ever laid eyes on.
With long, silky black hair and a pale face with no emotions whatsoever, for the first time, I can understand where she was coming from. I finally had a friend who understood how I felt, I finally had a friend who knew exactly what I was going through and her name is Elizabeth. Now you see, Elizabeth made all those "play times” with mama and papa not so bad because after Papa was finished? I would go back to my bedroom, curl in bed with her and tell her everything that went on. We became best friends in a hurry, we understood one another and still to this day – I take very good care of her, I make sure that absolutely nothing happens to her and each time that I run my large hand across her cold, porcelain face – I realize that she's all mine, I realize that she loves me for who I am and I know she's not going anywhere.
Elizabeth is Family, she will always be the first person that I run to when I need to talk and she will be there until the day that I draw my final breath; rest assured on that.
So who is Elizabeth? You would have to understand who my grandfather is first and in due time, you will understand more of my story!