x-sodapop

Her huge sad eyes stare at me, and I take my hands off the wheel to squeeze hers. The car swerves. Her boyfriend raped her again tonight. I can just imagine her lying there, her vacant eyes staring at me (beautiful like the dead), her body being moved by his thrusts. She doesn't ever cry. As he was shoving her down, my father busts into my bedroom, and the stink of sweat and liquor fills my room. I want to ignore him this time. Just continue lying there and staring at the entrancing motion of my ceiling fan. I know what she's going through that whole two miles away. And then he beat me. And then he reminded me why we're saving ourselves.