How Sick Can You Get?
Secrets
Bandit POV
I couldn't get any sleep after my sickening discovery. I spent most of the night crying or throwing up. Just the thought of "baycest" was enough to make me sick. Do people not realize that we are an actual family? Are people really such sick, messed up pedophiles?
I don't understand. How did I not know about this before now? There had to be more to "baycest" than the one picture I had found.
After about half an hour of contemplation, I decide to look up baycest on google. I just had to know how long it's existed and exactly what it's all about.
I didn't think it was possible, but what I found disturbed me even more. Pictures, so many pictures, of me as a child, a baby even, and my father. All of these pictures depicted my father as a pedophile. I began to sob uncontrollably and threw up the remaining contents of stomach. Just then, my parents walked in the front door and saw me sitting on the living room couch, tears streaming down my face and covered in vomit.
"Bandit, what's wrong?" my mother cried as she rushed to my side, embracing me in a comforting hug despite the sick that covered me. My father saw my phone with the screen still lit up and looked at it. His eyes widened and tears began to form in his eyes.
"You found out, didn't you?" he mumbled, sadness and concern lacing his voice. I nodded and let out another sob against my mother's chest.
"She found out about what?" my mother questioned, turning her head to my father.
"About baycest," he answered. There was a silence in the room as we sat there, not sure of what to say.
"How....how l-long?" I asked. There was another pause as both of my parent's faces contorted in emotional pain.
"Almost your whole life," my father mumbled, fighting back his own tears. My mother's arms tightened around me, offering me as much comfort as possible while tears started to stream down her face. My father joined in on the hug so that I was completely surrounded by both my parent's arms. We all cried together for a while before I finally broke away to ask a question that had been bugging me.
"When were you planning on telling me about this?" I asked, looking them both in the eyes. My mother let out a sigh as my father looked away before opening his mouth to answer.
"We don't know. We didn't know how to tell you," he admitted, still not meeting my gaze.
"We're sorry, sweetheart," my mother said as she again pulled me into a hug. I was slightly angry at them, but I knew it wasn't their fault. They hadn't created baycest, and it must be hard to try and figure out how to tell your daughter that a bunch of sick pedophiles were shipping her and her father together.
I relaxed into my mother's warmth, letting her comforting hug overtake me. We cried together a little more before I drifted off to sleep like a child being rocked in her mother's arms.
I couldn't get any sleep after my sickening discovery. I spent most of the night crying or throwing up. Just the thought of "baycest" was enough to make me sick. Do people not realize that we are an actual family? Are people really such sick, messed up pedophiles?
I don't understand. How did I not know about this before now? There had to be more to "baycest" than the one picture I had found.
After about half an hour of contemplation, I decide to look up baycest on google. I just had to know how long it's existed and exactly what it's all about.
I didn't think it was possible, but what I found disturbed me even more. Pictures, so many pictures, of me as a child, a baby even, and my father. All of these pictures depicted my father as a pedophile. I began to sob uncontrollably and threw up the remaining contents of stomach. Just then, my parents walked in the front door and saw me sitting on the living room couch, tears streaming down my face and covered in vomit.
"Bandit, what's wrong?" my mother cried as she rushed to my side, embracing me in a comforting hug despite the sick that covered me. My father saw my phone with the screen still lit up and looked at it. His eyes widened and tears began to form in his eyes.
"You found out, didn't you?" he mumbled, sadness and concern lacing his voice. I nodded and let out another sob against my mother's chest.
"She found out about what?" my mother questioned, turning her head to my father.
"About baycest," he answered. There was a silence in the room as we sat there, not sure of what to say.
"How....how l-long?" I asked. There was another pause as both of my parent's faces contorted in emotional pain.
"Almost your whole life," my father mumbled, fighting back his own tears. My mother's arms tightened around me, offering me as much comfort as possible while tears started to stream down her face. My father joined in on the hug so that I was completely surrounded by both my parent's arms. We all cried together for a while before I finally broke away to ask a question that had been bugging me.
"When were you planning on telling me about this?" I asked, looking them both in the eyes. My mother let out a sigh as my father looked away before opening his mouth to answer.
"We don't know. We didn't know how to tell you," he admitted, still not meeting my gaze.
"We're sorry, sweetheart," my mother said as she again pulled me into a hug. I was slightly angry at them, but I knew it wasn't their fault. They hadn't created baycest, and it must be hard to try and figure out how to tell your daughter that a bunch of sick pedophiles were shipping her and her father together.
I relaxed into my mother's warmth, letting her comforting hug overtake me. We cried together a little more before I drifted off to sleep like a child being rocked in her mother's arms.
Notes
So, another chapter to this story!!! I'm actually more excited about writing this than I am about any other story I've ever written, probably because this story is to make a point. Give me feedback, please!!!Your's in destruction,
~ Demolition Heart
could you update??
12/27/13