By the spring of my 12th year, i was barely hanging on. i had realized that Jackson was going to make my life miserable for all time, and tried to break up with him twice. Learning how a modified extension cord could become an electric torture device and having all my fingers broken taught me that was not a viable option. my life long excuse of clumsiness was accepted without question.He rarely punched me in the face, and found other ways to break my will without living marks that could be seen with clothes on. my parents never saw me. i started drinking heavily. By the time i started school again in the fall, i had to have a drink in the morning to go to school. i had been suspended several times for my clothes and once for being drunk. i was a problem child. And, this is when i learned of Jackson's vice. Jackson had a serious problem with gambling. i managed to get several little odd jobs gardening and such but still couldn't cover Jackson's debts. And, finally, he got the hell beat out of him. Then he began to look at me with an odd speculative light.One Saturday, he laid out new clothes on his bed for me. He sent me to get in the shower and watched while i applied my make up and arranged my long hair. i probably should have seen it coming but i didn't.Two rough looking men showed up that evening to pick us up. i followed Jackson, numbly, with my head down. We drove to a city an hour away. The ride was extremely tense, and no one spoke. Finally, we arrived at a seedy looking motel. i was still clueless.Once we got into the motel Jackson told me i was going to blow the two men. And, i found the will somewhere in myself to tell him no. He slapped me in the face repeatedly, threatening me. The men looked on seeming completely unfazed by the scene. Eventually, i gave in, just as i always did.Jackson grabbed a towel out of the bathroom and wiped the blood from my busted nose and mouth on it. He drug me back towards the bed, and pulled my top over my head. One of the men moved finally, and pulled my skirt off. Not another word was spoken as i kneeled down at the foot of the bed and took them in my mouth one by one. Tears poured down my cheeks and my mascara ran, but i didn't say a word. In some part of my heart, i always knew this was what i was made to do.After i had swallowed their cum, they became a little more animated. They never spoke to me, but took a couple poloroids of me. They told Jackson i wasn't bad at all. They might know someone who could help him. One of them eventually handed me a couple of pills and i took them, numbly. i didn't know what they were, didn't care. After that i don't remember much of what happened. Just flashes.The inspection and pictures of my body.The ride home.The accusations of whore.Jackson's fists.
