Fated to be "Raped": an inspirational short story, of a day of my life.
Since he was young and innocent, he never knew what peace tastes like. He doesn' know a mother, and was raised by a thoughtless father. His only friend was that moon.
In the twenty first of his age, and deep down a worn out prison, he's standing jus' like the other crime fellows, but the only one hiding an illicit pill behind his teeth, a narcotic drug, perhaps.
"Open up", commanded an annoyed head officer, forcefully squeezing the young man's cheeks.
"Open up!!", the officer pressed harder, making the boy’s inner skin meet with his irritated teeth, then bleed.
"Hm...!", the young man smirked, showing rebel. He owned a careless, yet tired sleepy eyes.
A rough and shameless smack landed loudly on his right cheek. A slap only the young man's ears can tell you about its sense. Collapsing into the floor, the boy took a second to grunt out the heat.
The poor guy, looking at the filthy ground, decided not to show the bastards the face they were excited to see. With some tired black silky hairs on his face, he secreted tears of humiliation, hidden inside his amber eyes, in a pride.
Your heart starts to burn, seeking revenge.
He spat out his own blood.
The cruel head officer, spotting the boy's youth for a while started to laugh.
"Bring him to my office", he ordered the guards, then flirted with some thoughts in his head.
Savagely, the guards heaved the young man from the ground. Hardly standing, he despised each one of them, sending smirks of dignity and fame all over the place, then finally slipping the tablet from his back teeth with his tongue, longing for it to settle his mind.
One step closer to that door, to him, was like one step closer to the untold. His heart started to break down, hard enough to become heard, and his smirk has bended to a frown.
“Bring him in”, the head commanded. They cuffed the young boy alongside a fatigued table.
“Leave! what’re ya waitin’ for!”, the commander frightened the guards off.
The young man instinctively knew what was about to become of him, yet, his self-existing dignity never waned, as he kept his influencing react sharp, as far as he’ll be mentally capable, at least.
When the guards were gone, the offender shut the door, then leaned towards the young man's face.
Pulling the weak boy’s hair up,
"I don' get why the likes of you never understand…", he satisfyingly spoke.
The boy, semi-drugged, and barely able to find the officer’s face,
"It is because the likes of you will never understand", he mistakenly smirked out his attractive teeth.
Flipping the boy against the table, the aggressive officer tried to free his sick member with his right hand, pressing the poor young man with the left one, as strong as his manhood possibly can.
"Tgh!!!", the young man grunted, trying to slip free. He started to panic. Each grunt tried to escape his mouth was followed by a screaming pulse, all caressing his terrified heart.
Instantly, the older man pushed his member long and deep against the forced young man.
"Agh!! It hhurts!!!", he roared out his throat, watering at the mouth.
"It burns... my skin!!!", the young boy lost his mind...
"… my skin!!”, he kept on bleeding.
Nothing from the sinner but gander laughter, and nothing from the scene but an inscribed torture.
His yells were pronouncing help, echoing from a prison to another along the halls. No one was there to rescue him from his fate. It was a familiar performance to everybody.
The young man started to shout, like a monster, thrusting out all the humiliation by breaking down everything around the table. He scared off the coward officer.
"Guards! Guards!!", the officer called, fixing his sinful pants.
The guards came in with their bloodthirsty batons, knocking the poor boy down.
They dragged his body to his cell, or at least will be.
Thrown away in a corner just like a garbage bag, his tears started to peacefully fall, washing up his face. He's crying with no facial expression, yet shaking, filled with vengeance. He seemed spiritless.
A weary old guy came closer to the scenery, and sat down beside, perhaps his cellmate. Patting the wounded back:
"Welcome to hell, son", he praised.
To everyone was fated to be raped, I send you the might of the moon...