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All I truly fear is him. His…penis. Will it hurt? Will I bleed? Who will be there to talk to me when it’s over and I feel different? When he forces me from girl to woman? Teen to slave? Free to broken?
Reverence for those wiser, older, and smarter than you. Appreciation for those kinder, gentler, and nicer than you. And utmost worship for those who could fucking annihilate you without a single thought.
He would merely hurt me again and again. It was pointless to give my body a hundredth attempt to survive when my soul had already packed its bags and leapt overboard.