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Pathetic Little Pet.

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Tonight as I lay in my queen sized bed, tracing the patterns on the wall with my eyes failing to distract my self, I pray to whatever god that is out there that he wont come tonight; he wont crawl through my window, climb into my bed, touch me or somehow control my body just by looking into my eyes. But as I hear my window on the wall facing my back open from the outside, I know that tonight I wont be as lucky, that I will have him touch me, compel me so that when he enters me I wont scream out in pain but scream out in pleasure all the while im crying inside begging for him to finish quickly. When he removes himself from me, I still know he’s not finished by the hunger that enters his eyes when he looks at my neck. I lay there breathing hard and I'm not surprised when his face becomes demonic, veins crawling under his eyes that have become red, and two of his teeth growing to become fangs ready to insert into my neck and steal even more of myself- my blood.

Just as I'm about to pass out I ask him the same question I ask every time he’s finished with me “are you going to kill me yet?” a tone of wistfulness slips through that im sure he noticed. “not yet, my pathetic little pet” he replies as he gets out of the bed like he has all the time in the world, re-dressing himself hiding the body of what most people would -including myself at the naive beginning- believe was cut by the gods but instead all I see is the monster somewhat hiding himself with clothing. I let myself fall into a dark sleep as I hear him closing my window, not having enough strength to stay awake any longer, hearing his voice repeating the same words in my head over and over again 'pathetic little pet.'