Someone's Daughter

TW: rape, abuse, murder

My mother told me I can't go alone, because I'm still young.

I laughed.

Funny how I seem to be old enough for her men, but too young

to go out alone.

What could there be? Perverts? Rapists? Pedophiles? Psychopaths?

Seems to me I've seen them all.

I live with a maniac. I work for her.

Selling touches and throwing clothes in throbbing lights.

This is world to me.
Never known nothin' else till someone told me I'm a

part of the criminals. 

How am I supposed to know? 

I've been brought up a whore. 

No one told me I could say no, kill if needed to keep my freedom.

Something I never had since they freed me from my clothes. 

Since he ripped my soul apart, right from between my thighs.

I had bruises on places an elementary school kid should have never had.

But how would I know? Having never had my taste of schooling?

"Tell me mother, how am I supposed to know?"

My foster mother never answered me.

I wiped my hands on her cloth and washed her with kerosene. She seemed speechless.

The knife lodged in her throat might explain that.

    

 I was good at crime, I mused looking at the newspaper.

A horrified journalist report on how a mother of 15 adopted kids was murdered.

The fire had left very few evidence, leaving the mother and the eldest daughter supposedly dead and three of the children severely wounded.

I wondered what they'd do if they find no remains of the eldest daughter.