This has an R Rating for a reason. Contains Intense coarse language, potentially graphic violence, and adult themes. Don't read if you will get offended by this... You have been warned.
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The Present Isn't Always a Gift
"Just fuck off! Go away! Leave me!"
The young girl shrieked in terror, tears were gushing out of her reddened eyes. "Just leave me alone! Do you know what it's like to.. to be stepped on? Crushed. Beaten. Bruised. Left for dead all bloody and broken on the sidewalk? Do you fucking know? Of course not! You don't know fucking shit, Murray!"
She picked herself up off the cold, rocky floor she was sprawled across and tried one more time to claw her way out of her stone chamber, while her captor stood above her laughing.
"Ha! Cry! Bleed! Scream!" His voice was menacing. "Go on! Scream out at the top of your lungs. No one's gonna save you! No one cares about you, ya filthy whore!" He spat down at her as he turned and walked away, leaving her sobbing to herself.
"Anne, what have you gotten yourself into now..." She cried to herself.
Her memories took her back to when she was a child, playing at home on the coast where she lived. She smiled through her tears as she remembered herself running through the back door all muddy from the rain that morning. Her mother was appalled. "Annabel Stacey Bedrinn! What have you gotten into this time?" Young Anne stood there and laughed; "There's worms in the mud, Mummy. Come look..."
The sound of heavy footsteps brought Anne back to reality. She looked up to see a rusty bucket flung down at her and some dried out bread. She rushed to catch it before it hit the ground; but the bucket was too quick for her and smashed against the ground to pieces, the water that was once inside now ran along the dirty ground like a small stream. She scraped with her fingers what water she could make cling to her hands and sucked it from her skin and picked up the bread and took a small nibble after dusting a few flakes of dirt off it.
