The dead girl’s face was split in a“Glasgow Smile,” the corners of the mouth cut to make a mockery of happiness. Just like my mother’s. My mot...er’s face had healed and scarred, but the dead girl’s never would.As I slept that night, I dreamt the same thing over and over. I kept seeing my mom lying on that sidewalk.So when I woke up the next morning, I knew it was time. Time to find Jack.Time to find my father.Time to call in that Marker.All things being equal, the most important thing was to. ..My gapping ass was a lewd welcome to some man who decided to see just how much further it would stretch. He began to force his hand up my ass. I clutched the bench I was restrained to and yelled into my ball-gag. He wouldn't stop. He kept stretching me open more and more. I vigorously shook my head back and forth yelling a muffled "NO" into my ball-gag. My left foot and sore assThankfully I remembered to wiggle my left foot, which I did over and over again. At first I was overcome with. The massive ruins of a city lay to it southern tip, called Chi-Go to the locals. The old broken-up roads must have been marvellous in their day but they're nothing but dangerous stretches of broken rubble now.I was born the fifth of seven children to Anne and Mark Simmons of Grayslake. I was taught at an early age to write my name, then read and write a bit. I took to numbers better than most others in our village. The family farm raised oxen, goats, chickens and pigs. We had three milk cows.. But that dint work. Then she said he must be hungry and asked me whether I could get her night gown from the bath. I said sure and went to the bathroom.There I found her gown along with her bra and panties. My hands started shivering as I touched her undergarments. They were so warm, that I knew she was wearing them from the morning. I could smell sweat on them. That drove me crazy. Somehow I managed to be in control and picked up the gown and went back. She took it from my hand and was about.
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