A/N:

**Involves rape** Bently lives a normal teenage life..Well with one exceptions,'Uncle Elliot'.For years she's kept the secret of his affections for her bottled up truth would destroy her god mother and her own when her god parents ask her parents for something Bently is faced with the struggle of the truth, and what it could mean now by not telling... I want to first say sorry to anyone who was previously reading Death of an Irish girl, Birth of an Irish Woman. I've lost my 'oomph' for it. This is not to say that I won't work on it, I will still try. But for now I've removed it and it will not be up till I've revised it and got the feel for it again. So my promise, and I stick to them as you well know, to you is that I WILL repost it and it WILL be even better.

Now to start off with this story's author's note…This story involves the molestation of a teenage girl. If in anyway stories like this disturb, upset, or piss you off…Please don't read it. It will also be filled with a bit more angst then anything (besides my 'life' story…That's actually what my close friends call it) I've ever wrote before. This story will not have a happy beginning nor a happy ending.

On a brighter note I hope you read and hopefully as a writer yourself 'enjoy' my WRITING STYLE….If you want to tell me what I could do better or maybe even give me some advice on what you think would go well with the story line, please tell me. Criticism is much appreciated. But please keep all the criticism on a knowledgeable level. If you don't like my story and you believe it's very roughly put together, I have no talent, and that my writing style is annoying…Pick up a dang book and read it, and another, and then another..etc… I'm sure you'll see everyone's style is different.

Enjoy (as much as the plot allows…it won't all be sad)

One

Look at me…Sixteen and what do I have to show for it? Nothing.

"Oh, Bently," Marissa my god mother embraced me in a warm huh, "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks Aunt Marissa."

"I do hope you liked the clothes. Elliot was so worried they'd be too flashy for you."

"No, not at all. I love them."

My mother held up a small denim skirt, "I'm sure all the guys will too."

"Why? It's not like this body of mine would excite any of them."

"Child please. You've got just the right body for a girl your age."

"That she does," My Uncle Elliot's arm slid around my waist, his finger tips falling just below my waist, "It won't be long till I'll have to scare off some horny teenage boy."

"Oh, don't remind me!" My mother gave me a small smile and wink.

My Aunt Marissa and Uncle Elliot are my god parents. They met my parents when they were in college. Since then they've been the best of friends.

Marissa is a wonderful woman. She loves to help out in the community, and give back to all the people who gave to her. She's gorgeous, with strawberry blonde hair, sea green eyes, and a complexion to die for. Her voice doesn't match her body. If you were to simply meet her you would think she's rather obese, because of her mellow sound.

Her husband, Elliot, is the polar opposite. Unlike Marissa life has always been very simple. His father was a well respected lawyer who paid Elliot's way through med school. He's very tall, built, with dark brown hair and almost black eyes. Elliot's a mystery… To most people.

They can't have children. Marissa has always been rather sickly. So when they began to try for a baby it never really came as a surprise that they couldn't. They've spent thousands, maybe millions, trying.

Some days I feel sorry for them both. Other days its only Marissa that I feel sorry for. She has more love in her pinkie toe then most people will ever have in their whole life. As bad as it sounds I'm always happy to hear the attempts failed. God letting a child be raised by Elliot is like handing Jesus over to Satan. It would never work out.

"We've got to be heading home. I have an early trial in the morning."

"Thanks for coming."

Marissa smiled, "Oh, shush. You know I wouldn't have missed your birthday for anything."

"I know."

As they all wondered out to the front lawn, Elliot stayed behind. I knew why. Deep down I believe Marissa knows to.

"Elliot please not today," I stepped away, "Please just not today."

The small smirk on his face scared me more than anything else. When he pinned me against the wall I thought my heart was going to bust out of my chest. His hand ran down my side, and then slowly pulled up my skirt. When his cold fingers ran across my most precious flesh I flinched.

He roughly kissed my neck and whispered into my ear, "Happy birthday baby girl."

When he left I didn't cry. I use to. When it first started I'd cry all the time. Never out in the open though. It was always late at night after my parents went to sleep. I couldn't let them know. In the beginning it wasn't as bad. At first I didn't really know what he was doing. I thought it was him showing affection. But when I hit puberty and my mother gave me the talk, I realized it was wrong.

Now, don't misunderstand what I've said. At this point his touching was just touching. He'd yet to take it any further. Once, hair began to grow, breast became more obvious, and my body began developing a womanly figure that's when the touching turned to sex. I know what you must be wondering… Why haven't I told anyone? Well I love him.

Ever since I can remember I've had Uncle Elliot. He's been a constant in my life. He was there when I was born, when I lost my first tooth, first broken bone, first school dance, and has never missed a birthday. To everyone around us he's nothing but a good loving Uncle.

Behind closed doors it's another story. Behind closed doors I'm no longer his precious god daughter, but the ragdoll to his masochistic needs.

Since the age of twelve the need… the desire to wash him off of me has always been the same. I cannot stand the downright dirty feeling he gives me. Even the stares make me want to throw myself in a steaming hot boiler. I'd give anything to never feel again. To be totally stripped of all the filth.

My body… Because of all this I've become very disgusted with it. Nothing about this shell is me. I'm lost deep within clawing at the seams that keep me caged.

I'm ragged.

A/N:

So what did you think? Is it a good start? Does the main character give you enough insight into her own mind?...Most importantly was their enough detail that you could really see the scenes playing out in your head??

…I know this chapter was short. Most will be for this story… At least until we get to a certain point. I can't tell you why, but it's a good one… Remember I love you input. My email is ashley_ Feel free to email me with any questions or comments.