In her forced state of sleep, Genevieve couldn’t
block out the painful memories:
Many pairs of grubby hands kept reaching out to grab
at her clothes. They forced her under them and ripped away her innocence.
Trapped in a castle of slavery, she was constantly
used by unsavory men. Every night, she was passed around like a fascinating
news article that all the men had to read, but were quickly done with.
Genevieve’s mind flashed through every time she was
trapped and without a rescuer to save her from this empty life. She saw all the
men’s fat faces and beer-bellies and she felt the heat of their rancid bodies
when they pressed against frail one. Every slice in her pale skin was made new
as she relived each horrific scene. To force her compliance, they used blunt
force or just sharp objects that all left nasty scars.
Before long, she became numb in order to survive her
constant torture. She crafted the compartments in her brain and locked away her
emotions. Bottling up herself, she learned to become whatever different tramp
the despicable men wanted. It lessened her bruises and cuts.
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