Letters and Diary Non-Fiction posted August 13, 2009

This work has reached the exceptional level
A diary entry A drugged night of sexual abuse.

Dear Diary

by Laidy

The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
The author has placed a warning on this post for sexual content.
Hell found me. I had been tied up in a dark basement. I had awoken to the smell of rotting debris; I was lying in a puddle of slimy, sticky mess.

The basement was dark and moist. It was used as the building's main garbage room and it reeked. I even think I had been lying on the cement ground, in some rotten garbage juice. I wanted to throw up my insides. But Diary, if I had, then I would have been lying in that too. It was so horrible. And the worst part of it was that no one had to even enter in there to throw their garbage away. There was a metal chute that went straight through every apartment and down to the basement. There was a large bucket-like thing which caught and collected everything that came down. It was disgusting.

My ankles and wrists had been bound tight with sticky, thick black electrical tape. I could feel the pulse in my wrist beating fast against the cold cement floor. And my mouth still had that rubber ball in it, strapped around my head with its leather belt clasped together in the back of my neck. I could feel my face pulsating from the events that had occurred earlier today. I knew I had lost consciousness because I could see it had fallen dark outside. The window in the basement had bars that ran down and across and levelled with the walkway outside. Diary, I hate that damn basement. I have spent so many hours down there. I wish it could just burn from the inside out. Of course Diary, have it happen with me away and at school. Diary, I was laying there and after I had noticed all of that I also realized that I had no clothes on. And then I remembered everything!

I knew where I was. It was not the first time I had ended up down there for hours on end. I always ended down there after denying him his sexual pleasure. Diary, he is my father and he acts like I am his sex toy. I am always his sex toy. His sexual release is my body. I always feel so disgusting. He told me once that I was his wife. Diary how is it that I am his wife? I am only fourteen years old! Sometimes I feel like I don't understand him when in fact, we speak the same language. Maybe my Spanish is different. Maybe I have a deficiency in my learning habits. I feel so hurt right now. I am so sore. I always have to endure him. I have to endure the pain. My pain is always for his pleasure.

I don't know why I always fight him; I kick, I scream, I try to get away, I turn him down and it is still not enough to make him want me less. He always seems to be more turned on by my disgust in him. He looks at me like I am a desirable, sugar coated candy.

Tonight was different, Diary. I remember. I remember what happened from the beginning to the end, until I had passed out. Diary, why does my father keep doing these things to me?

Usually he shoves a few drinks down my throat to the point that I am drunk silly and out of my mind, almost numb down to my toes. He then usually tells me just to relax, that I won't feel a thing. Then the sex happens and I pass out from the alcohol and the pain. This afternoon was so different. Diary, I was so scared. It was different tonight.

Diary, I write to you tonight in a different tone. I am so cold. I am still shaking even though I now have a sweat suit on and am under my blankets in bed.

He caught me off guard and pressed a cloth over my mouth and nose. He had me breathe in chloroform. It felt like my mind was on fire. My mind was there, but my body just would not respond -- literally. As I breathed it in, I began to panic. And then I began to run. Diary, I tried, but I just did not get too far. I think I had maybe gone ten paces and then I collapsed, face down on the hard wood floor of the long hallway, outside his bedroom; in our apartment. Diary, that face plant felt horrible. I could not move. My own body weighed down on me and I just could not move any part of myself physically. I was so scared; I still am.

I remember seeing the world turned over. It was beginning to look right side up again. It was not dark or hard anymore. Although I know now that it was him flipping my limp body over so that I was lying on my back.

Diary, he just stood over me and looked at me with a wicked smile on his face. He said that he knew I would run and it had caused him to become more aroused at me. That running was the best part, he said. That it meant there was a chase, a reason for him to run after me.

All I could do was move my eyes around. And it was in that second that I saw my future. I saw the pain and the torture in this future. It was all in my father's eyes; all in his hands.

One hand held a leather whip that had silver, pointed stones protruding from it. The other hand held a rather large pink and brown dildo. Diary, that is when I saw him pull out a rubber ball that he strapped around my head so that the ball was secured inside of my mouth. I was so petrified.

Diary, he got down on his hands and knees and made his way over to me, crawling like it was an erotic film-fest. Disgusting; he made my skin crawl. He bit at me. He was snapping his mouth at my clothes then reached out his arms and tore my clothes. First my shirt, and then he tore my jeans. Diary, I felt like he was possessed. Like there was some kind of Demon inside him and taking control over him. Diary, then he tore off my bra and underwear. I felt so frightened. Then he kept biting at me, nicking my skin from time to time; I saw the blood start to spot in places. I was naked. My 'only just starting to grow' breasts were fully exposed.

Diary, that drug he had given me; God damn it! I know, I know, I am not supposed to curse but to tell you the truth Diary, I don't know what I am supposed to do now and what I am not supposed to be doing. It seems to me I am doing a lot of things that I am not of age to be doing. So what the hell?

I could not move. Diary, I could hear his voice so close to my ear. I even smelled his breath. It smelled of Budweiser beer. Diary, I hate that smell. He was on top of me and I still could not move. I was trapped under his 180 pound body. His mouth was loudly sucking on my neck, my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, and then, Oh My God! I could not do anything, even to save my life, make him stop, or even cry out for that matter. He was sucking hard on my middle. Diary, he kept asking me if that was how I liked it.

Diary, then the most awful thing happened. I felt this excruciating pain. He was inserting something into my vagina. It hurt so badly. He just looked at me as it went in and out. He continued to penetrate me while he sucked on me. It was the same dildo I had seen earlier. It felt like hours had gone by, but really, Diary, it had not. I wanted to yell and scream at him to stop. But I could not. Not a sound escaped my mouth. It was impossible at this time.

His eyes were burning into mine deep. Diary, I felt so horrible; so dirty. He suddenly stopped with the dildo and got up. For one second I felt relieved to see him move away from me. He took the rubber ball from my mouth and saw that there was drool all over it. He wiped it clean, only to replace it into my mouth. Diary, that's when the real pain started, that's when he started to whip me. I felt each and every slash on my legs, thighs and stomach. He rolled me over on my side to whip me harder on my back. I felt the metal prongs digging into me and cutting my flesh as it so quickly whipped back out and then in again. Diary, I do not understand how he was so turned on by this. How could he have possibly gotten off on that?

After what felt like hours of pain he got down on all fours and he fondled me close. I could feel his erected penis on my back and so close to my rectum. I could still smell his beer infested breath. Diary, he disgusts me.

My father grabbed my body to a sitting position. Of course I did not stay that way. I was all jelly with that drug processing through my body. So, he set my back to lean on his leg, and then attempted to lift my limp, naked, almost numb with pain body. He threw me over his shoulder. I saw the world do yet another flip; this time it was upside down. I saw my long brown hair dangling in my face. I really didn't care at that point what my hair was doing, Diary.

He then dropped me on his king sized bed. I remember my body bouncing twice before it settled firmly into its place on that nasty bed. That is where everything usually happened. Every night, it was never any different. Diary, why was today different? Why did he have to hurt me so much?

He undressed himself as I just lay there, like a weight. I was planted there. I guess he knew that I was not able to go anywhere because he left his bedroom door wide ass open. Go figure. Damn that drug, Diary.

He leaned against the dresser behind him and then he turned around to look at himself in the mirror. Diary, he was examining his erection. I was completely disgusted. I wanted to throw up and smear it in his face. Then he turned back around and he smiled. I remember thinking that I just wanted him to get on with it and be done already.

Before I had time to brace myself he thrust himself into me, hard and raw. Dairy, it hurt so much. I wanted to die; I still want to die. I feel like the whole world is against me.

I do not know how long it took. I think I even passed out for a few minutes. I remember coming out of a deep sleep or trance that I had put myself into and seeing him pulsating and jerking his body while still inside of me. He looked like he was having a seizure. Diary, I think I would have been happy if he had just dropped dead right then and there. I hate him so much. Maybe I would be free right now, instead of here in this cot of a bed writing to you, Diary; and in his apartment. I would love for my 'so called husband' to die right now. I hate him and I can't write it enough.

He finished pulsating and then leaned over on my stomach to catch his breath. I felt his sweat dripping on my naked body. Yuck! I hate him, Diary. I thought he was done but then he held both legs in the air and grabbed the dildo and rammed it in my ass. Diary at this point, I do not give a fuck what words I use. He's such a fucking asshole. I wish he would fucking die and go to Hell. I could tell by the look on his face that he enjoyed this dildo 'play', which was my pain. Damn you Dad! I fucking hate your disgusting, perverted guts.

Diary I could feel the drug wearing off. I started to move my fingers and toes. I tried to grip the sheets to hide my pain. But it became more evident as the drug continued to wear off.

He saw that I was beginning to be able to move and I distinctly remember that a smile came on his face. He looked so evil. I thought he looked like the devil had possessed him.

We both then heard the deadbolt unlock. Thank God for his mother. She had come home from a day of downtown shopping. I thought that an angel had been sent to my rescue.

He quickly turned the television on and closed his bedroom door quietly. I watched him get dressed; then he took some black tape and bound me. I saw how he waited to make sure his mother was in her own room, only to sneak us both out so he could place me in the basement. I was left down there for hours, unclothed and still with my mouth full of ball.

Diary, I do not know what keeps me from going to the police or telling someone that this is happening. I feel like if I did I would be in trouble. Plus I will get taken away and I do not want to go to foster care again. I just want to be left alone. It's not like anyone would care. My mom gave me up and sent me away to live with him, so who would want me -- other than him? I have to be thankful I have a home. There are worse things out there. But I still have to wonder, what if? I have thought so many times about running away, but I know nothing of where I am. I just got here a few months ago and if I ran away, I would be lost in this big city.

Maybe I should drink that bleach -- like I have thought so many times before of doing. I just want to be dead and be away from this death of life I live. Thank God for books, Diary. Without them I think I would be insane.

So, now I am in bed writing this, you already know that I am out of there and clothed. And I already told you about how I found myself in there. But I am tired and exhausted. So, Diary, I will write to you again tomorrow night. I hope it will be better then today. Good night.

New Arrival Story contest entry


Write a story that starts with this sentence: "Hell found me."

Your story must start with the sentence above. Do not add to the sentence. You have the option to put it in quotes (for dialogue) and to change the punctuation at the end for proper grammar.

This is just one diary entry from a 14 yr old girl who gets sexually abused by her father on a regular basis.

2546 words.

Thanks to youstupid for the 'in the dark room' art.

If viewed please review, for it will help me a lot. Considering English a second language to me. Thanks.
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