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Want to try to make one or see what other people came up with?! Every story will participate in The Doll Palace ratings. Good stories will be awarded with Dollpoints.
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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Sheeta
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 | Aborted [00: Purple Fetus] |
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 4.92 with 13 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-06-28 12:38:13 |
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-Aborted-
[-Preface-]
A frantic cry broke from cracked white lips. "Mother please-"
There was a soft crush, warmth burst out around me and the plop-plop of liquid splashed on the ground.
"No, don't kill him!"
I tried to pull myself from the ground but I was too weak, I couldn't stop her. I watched from cold linoleum, my cheek resting against water and birth cord around me. I watched as my mothers fingers wrapped around my bloody new-born son's throat. His body was so small, he didn't look real, he could pass as plastic... purple, lifeless plastic. His eyes never opened, his lungs never heaved, his arms never waved. He was left in a heap on the ground, his frail limbs contorted, his small, squished, face lay still in a pool of blood.
"Why...."
I changed, a fear took over me, pain devoured my heart and enslaved my soul. My eyes felt like they could pop out of their sockets, my teeth had practically shredded my lips to bits. Sweat poured off my body in torrents matching that of a roaring fall river.
My body felt empty, my bones ached, my head throbbed. I needed, I craved, my substances, my life-forces.
What happened to my son's body?
I imagine, or try not to, a black garbage bag bobbing half-surfaced amid the sewage that spills into the mercury infested lake, uninterrupted.... A garbage bag holding the offspring of a seventeen year old junky.
-Thirteen months earlier-
I guess I'd always loved standing out, doing stupid things without thinking too much about the consequences. I've always been a rule breaker, and a head case, always fighting on the losing side but somehow I get out alright. I can't tell you how it all started, how my life started.... probably around the year my mother finally decided to leave my abusive father.
I changed schools, changed names, tried to change personality but those are a bit harder to convince yourself to forget. Into the second year in the new school, from hell, I met someone who radically changed my life. Someone who I could be myself with, someone who eased my pains, someone who introduced me to things I never imagined.
I began to evolve, revolted; I smoked cigs during lunch, pot during class, ate shrooms during break and once puked in the last class of the day from a pill over dose.
I was into anything and everything, should have known I couldn't handle it all. |
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