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Let's reminisce of time long ago. When a young child of only four years old. She would walk through the path between the two houses. Sent there as she scurried like a mouse. She was so very young. Anxiously awaiting the cookies that would come. Freshly baked, oh so yum! No understanding of the games he wanted to play. She still can't understand why, even this day. She wore the dresses her mother had made. A fashion show in his basement. At times afraid. But those cookies waited, so the child stayed. She spun around and she would sing. A child's innocent voice would ring. She never cried, his hands would move her long hair. Her neck now bare. He would slowly run a finger along her skin. Lifting her dress wanting to penetrate therein. She did not know anything different. She was important to him, she was significant. Her sisters were far to old, Had the child known, she would have told. But not a squeak, "our secret" he would say, so meek. Her parents never stopped her from going, they would always say go. This little girl, if only she could have said no. Up onto his lap she would sit. After the dances she performed, she was a hit. He would hug her and kiss her upon her cheek. His hands would wander, she'd never speak. She didn't know at age of four. That as she grew, his desires would soar. At ages five and six. He would find new tricks. These games became more and more. Her secret, their secret, this child bore. His fingers always playing in her hair. He would look at her, in his basement. He would look.... there. She did not know..... She had nowhere to go... She carried this secret all alone. Whilst at the table with her family at home. Her own father wouldn't touch her at all. His baby she was afterall.But to her mother, she was her doll. Being groomed and shown things she shouldn't have seen. Memories of these times in childhood flash. Always obscene. Seeing the blue headed snake. The girl, age of eight. She began to realize something wasn't right. She was still to small, groomed, she couldn't fight.
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