Tell Me I'm A Bad, Bad Man

The rooms bright, so so fucking bright. I can't cope, my head can't cope... hands... hands touching
touching
STOP
I can't move, fuck I can't breathe
The hands don't stop, why won't they stop?

Mommy, why won't it stop? Mommy, help, it hurts... it hurts...

Hands are dirty, fuck, there's dirt, there's dirt. It's on me and it's burning. Please help, somebody, please help. They won't help. They won't. No one loves me. Why don't they love me?

"Hands are dirty, Frankie, wash them in the sink before you eat. "

Hands are dirty, didn't your mother ever tell you? Stop touching. Touching means pain and pain is burning and itching and hot water to wash away the germs. I can't move. Fuck. I can't move. My heart won't beat properly, there are hot tears in my eyes and I can't do it anymore. My chest constricts and I can't get that oxygen I need - why can't I get it? Something metal rattles and my eyes shift to the fucking handcuffs attached to my wrist and the bed rails. Shit. Fuck. I can't move. I can't move.

His body is heavy, crushing my chest. I can't move underneath him. I'm trapped and I can't get out.
"Please help me mommy"
His dirty hands are over my wrists, pinning me down so I can't move. My stuffed animal watches with its beady little eyes and what would it feel like to be clean? My body's too small and weak, I can't get free, he's crushing me, I can't breathe...


My right hand is trapped. I'm defenceless. Anyone can hurt me now, touch me, stroke me... I don't want them to. I'm scared, god it hurts. It's inside me, I can't get it out. It'll never come out...

I can't breathe...
"mommy, why won't you help me?"

Tears leak down my cheeks and I can feel the dirt in my veins, never coming out. I'm unclean. Always have been, always will be.

"Mommy, please..." I moan softly. My voice won't work properly. It's a whisper, dry and hoarse and it makes me feel sick just to speak. My fingers are sticky and oh fuck, they're dirty. My right hand hurts, it hurts so much and I don't know why, why can't I remember?

My arm hurts, he held it too tight as he took my body. I'm shaking, knowing he'll do it again. It's dark and cold and I'm scared... is this part of growing up? Does it always have to hurt so much?

The tears stop at the memory. Yes, Frankie, it always hurts. It never ends. Never. No one will love you...
No one...


Its dark and cold, my arms still trapped and why won't they let me free? What did I do?
"WHAT DID I FUCKING DO?!" I scream, tears blinding me again as I rattle the handcuffs desperately, movements weak with the drugs. I'm not safe and I never will be.
I turn my head, tears dripping onto the pillow. No fucking way. Baby boy sits beside me, nervous as ever and watching through his strands of hair.

"I'm sorry." His voice is quiet and I scoff loudly, looking back towards the ceiling.

"You're not sorry. You don't know... YOU DONT FUCKING KNOW! YOU'RE ON THEIR FUCKING SIDE! You're on their side..." I cut myself off with laughter. Ha! The fools think they've got me.

"T-their side...? I'm only trying to help..."

"you can't fucking save me." I sigh, smiling a little to myself.



"No one will save you, Frankie... even if you scream."

Notes

So many chapters, so little time.

This is gunna get darker most probably so CHECK THE WARNINGS AND STAY SAFE. As I think Jackoffjill has already mentioned, we are both British so we try our hardest to write American English but we've already had a few fuck ups ( which I THINK we've managed to edit out). Bye loves! There will maybe be a new chapter up soon but I'll definitely try to do at least one tomorrow!



It never ends - BMTH goes well with this one ☝️ love your candycxnt