Chapter One: Believe Me, Please

Title: Unspoken Stories

Author: Sweet-Nothing

Summary: There’s nothing wrong with this neighborhood. Especially if no one complaining.

Genre: Horror/General

Author’s Note: I was in the mood for something tragic. Really this little story came from actually listening to the song Make Her Say by Kid Cudi and other songs like Blame It On The Alcohol and anything similar to that crap. I love music and all genres, but I hate how they describe sex. I hated even more when I was on the school bus and my class sang it.

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There’s nothing wrong with my neighborhood and there wasn’t lingering pointy fingers ready to scratch your eyes out if they saw you. Ready to break into your eye and make you cry blood if you even dare to gather the courage to look in there direction. They will have you bent over and admiring their beauty when in all reality they were a revolting thing to look at. And yet we pretend it’s love when your behind alleyways choking on all his pride and being force to do again numerous time. It’s not love, I read fairy tales and that’s not love.

It makes me even more sick when people sing about it in their songs and let other people sing it as if it’s normal. It’s normal to get drunk and force someone to suck it. It’s normal to push someone against the wall and force every inch of you inside them. It’s normal to laugh when the person starts to cry yelling to stop, stop, it hurts, God, it hurts.

I don’t say anything when I watch victims and that makes me even worse, right? No, because I choose to look away from sheer painful jerking bodies and crying woman who just lay on the ground. As if to say, why, God, why did you have to bestow this Hell over my head?! Why did you let this rat bite off every tie I had to the beautiful world I use to have? Why did you let me do this to myself? Why, Why, Why? And since I wasn’t God I choose to walk away and let God answer the unspoken question.

When I reach the bus stop and stood there shielding myself from a sunny day, I wonder if God was a sick person. Every time I see someone wedge against the wall it was sunny and no cloud to damper the mood. Their cries echo the streets of this small neighborhood but no one look. No one came when a person screamed “Rape, help me.” Because it wasn’t true, nothing bad about this neighborhood, right?

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