Part two in series. Story teller me.

Held down by the neck, smell my farts or the world will end.

I'll pin you down with a  tap tap.

The footsteps sound like that, or heartbeats of fear, no sleep in that little girl's bedroom down the hall,,,,, go right through, she'll take care of you. 
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Fall asleep and be grabbed and jabbed brother stabs a knife into your mattress threatening to kill you. 

Your telling stories, you silly girl, you must be crazy, that wouldn't really be true, you're lying. 

Oh how the young me, she wishes and wished that where so... 
But there is always two or more perspectives you know. 

Every three nights a different man, and when I asked mother dearest why.?????? 

She said that's all that the government law allows. 
And that's still true today. 

So how  many other  children are exposed to such things,  mothers needing food, willing to swap sex for it and got addicted. 

To gain more attention for her body and to shut her daughter up from squealing she crippled her. 
With a degenerative bone disorder, basically broken   from trauma. 
In and out of the chair. 

Miracle girl, running one then , hardly move the next. 

But all the anal analyst was to blame. 

Fear it hurts. 
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Part 3 
Is ~~~~¿¿¶©¶¿¿
On its thought train. 
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