She hated storms, hated the dark, hated being alone in any of them. She suffered from nightmares and had since she was seven years old, when three old...r boys had attacked her in the park where she had been playing alone. They had beaten and bruised her and used pocket knives to cut her all over her pudgy little body. When the police had found then they had given no reason for it. For Dusti it had been no more traumatic then the endless practical jokes and constant fear inducing things her. “Stop! Stop fucking moving!” I scream, hitting my lower abdomen with the base of my fist over and over until it finally settles down.I really thought I got this fucking thing out of me, I think, bringing my knees back to my breasts then rocking back and forth while I sob. Either I only managed to rip its tail off before I lost consciousness, or it crawled back into me while I was unconscious… Considering all of that pink liquid I scooped out of my vagina after I regained consciousness, and. More

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