She did not want the marriage proposals she was offered. She did not want the tedium of romance, the tender, considerate sex, the avowals of love. She...did not want the roses; she wanted something more direct, more physical. She wanted the thorns.She stopped on a street corner illuminated by a dim yellow streetlight that barely penetrated the humid air, leaving dark pools of shadow in the empty doorways and the rubbish in the street. Far away she could hear the hot whine of tires on asphalt, and. I would neverbe a little girl again; not as a sissy girl, not a silly junior highslut girl, and not a little girl whore. I'd been through too much,done too much, and had too much done to me to ever be, or even be ableto pretend to be, innocent again. I looked across the car into thefitful sunlight trying to break through the grim, grey November cloudsand wondered what kind of life was ahead of me. I voiced some of thesethoughts to my mothers, in an increasingly choked up voice, until Ifelt. I was safe. I turned back to look at the car. It was still there, but Joel had left them and was walking away. A smile came to my lips as I had a mental picture of the driver trying to turn the ignition key with his newly deformed fingers. Perhaps I should have asked if they were having fun. I know I did.The moment we stepped inside the front door, the trembling began. I'd managed to keep myself under control while I had been in danger, but now I was safe, the tension caught up with me.Greg's. I must have fallen back to sleep as I was awakened by someone knocking on the door. I quickly threw on my dressing gown and went down stairs, I finally found the key and unlocked the door. Four men were stood there one holding a clip board, "good morning madam" he said, we are in the area and wondered if you had any work for these three. I can't go into too much detail but they have just been released from prison and under the new scheme brought out by the Government, as part of their.
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