When Will They Hear?

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Facade19
Posts: 402
Joined: Thu Jun 10, 2004 11:57 pm
Location: In the city of pigs

When Will They Hear?

#1 Post by Facade19 »

Spartan, if you read this, my dear friend and brother, this is my reaction to Donner. This is the only way I can in any meaningful way express my awe. Believe me, this is my response to Donner, the one I promised you. If I am way of tract, forgive me, for your voice has erupted in me these emotions!

As she slowly regained consciousness and awoke to the sound of her violator inundating her for the third time, her suborn expression revealed to the silent onlookers of her capitulation. All hope lost that someone would sprawl to rescue her from the unwelcoming grip of that beast, she lapsed to a transient state of mind. Her lifeless eyes, which only a few hours ago still uplifted the darkness she knew too well, now gave way to the darkness she refused to surrender to only a few hours ago.

It is the thirteenth year since the war broke out. And still no sign to an end. And still no explanation as to why it all started. All I know is that the grim reality that surrounds us, all of us, the ever so clear menacing and enveloping madness that comes and goes as it pleases, robbing the innocence of that very innocence that made them special, and leaving them behind to taste the bitterness only such madness can procure, penetrates me even in my own unconsciousness.

As he finished his sodomy of her, as to show that he felt she was not so bad, a little kiss on the cheek was more than she could ask of her beloved suitor. Her rectum still bleeding from the rape and her innocence oozing the vile remnant her virginity forcefully taken, her lifeless body resembled that of a corpse that I am lying next to. With whatever strength remaining in her, she grabbed his knife that he set aside on the table before entering her, and pointed it towards her own throat. The rotten color of faded blood betrayed the sharpness that object of man’s cruelty had in it. With one final ecstatic laughter and shrill hysteria, she edged a deep cut, one powerful enough that the moment the blade touched her skin a fountain of blood squirted whatever life was in her. That is the last memory I have of my mother, as she edged contempt in my heart.
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