Chapter 1 - Tears of Terror:
It was raining outside, and occasionally water leaking through the broken roof of the storage shed could be heard dripping into a water puddle in the corner. The sound of heavy panting echoed in the small shed as I removed my clothes alongside my partner. “Tira-chan, you have such cute breasts” my partner remarked as I carefully unhooked my bra.
I blushed a little bit, trying not to show my embarrassment. “That’s not how you say it…” I retorted, attempting to remain calm. We drew close into a heavy embrace, and I could hear his heart beating as our breath tangled together in the cold, moist shed. I opened my mouth slightly, and he brought his lips to mine.
His tongue moved slowly around mine as we kissed, but his was rough like sandpaper as it stroked the roof of my mouth. He place his palm on my modest breasts as our lips moved away from one another’s, and sighed with a smirk that made him look kind of like a playboy. “This is my first time, you know.” My partner commented softly. I tried to smile cheerily, curving my small, puffy lips upward, but only embarrassed myself.
We laughed a little bit together before continuing. “That’s okay; it’s my first time too. Please be gentle, Urin-kun…” I spoke softly as I reached my arms out to receive him. He slowly and gently removed my plain, white panties, kissing my legs passionately as he removed the garment from my left ankle and tossed it onto the ground nearby. He laid my back gently onto the blue mat as he began to lick from the tips of my toes to my special place. He was gentle, but clumsy as he licked my clitoris, and it sent shivers up and down my spine. He then began breathing heavily, and began undoing the buckle on the belt that held up his blue school uniform pants.
“I can’t wait any longer, I want to become one with you, Tira-chan!” my partner shouted. I bolted up “Shh! Someone might hear you!” I yelled. I was in my bedroom, in my bed. I wet my bed again. “I really have to calm down… that’s right, Urin-kun wouldn’t like someone like me even if I knew him forever.” I uttered to myself in a depressed tone. I groggily pulled myself out of bed, removed my pajamas patterned with green hummingbirds, and began walking toward my door.
I heard a door slam. It was more than likely the front door, and I confirmed my theory when I overheard my parents shouting at one another in rage. My parents were having marital problems, because my father was cheating on my mother with a few lovers. If I were braver I would go against him in protest, but my father is a scary person who abuses people in his anger.
I have been punched and kicked around by my father many times in the past, and was even whipped using his belts a few times. My mother was forced to help him whip me one of those times, and she was crying while she whipped me. Now I can understand why. Our father was a worthless drunk and a junkie who couldn’t control his anger, and we needed a place to escape to.
But no one would help, and if we told anyone, we knew that he would find us and do horrible things, torture us, and probably even kill us. I got dressed in my uniform, and waited for my father to stop yelling about my mother, who had been the one to run out. I went into my closet and pulled out my school uniform – summer was approaching, and it was getting unbearably hot out, so I was glad that I would only have to wear the thick, three-layer winter jacket for one more week.
Also, the long skirts we wore during winter went just past our knees and were insulated on the inside, so it became extremely stuff when the climate began to warm up after spring. Since I missed a lot of classes, I had to make up for it by going to summer school – of course, anything was better than being near my drunk and abusive father.
I didn’t bother to take a morning shower because I had to run during PE for my first class, and I knew that would waste water, electricity, and also my soap, which wasn’t really expensive, but I couldn’t afford it because the cram school I attend does not allow students to work part-time jobs.
I exited my room and entered the restroom across the hall to grab my toothbrush and toothpaste – I usually take them to school because I can’t stand having chucks of food stuck between my teeth after lunch, and as horrible as the menu was at school, I usually just brought my own bento for lunch.
As I entered the kitchen and began preparing my bento, my father staggered into the room and threw his arm around me. I stiffened as I could smell the putrid smell of bad alcohol from his entire body. “Hey Tirayuki. I’m not a bad father am I? I work hard and put food on the table, don’t’chya think so?” muttered my father. I nodded with a forced grin. “Yes, you do just fine, otou-san.” I replied with a low tone as I struggled free. “I have to make my lunch for school. I’ll be home before curfew, so don’t worry about me otou-san.” I reassured him.
Somehow he sobered up a little bit and managed to stagger out of the room as he muttered things to himself. I sighed deeply in relief, because in reality I was so afraid of what my father would do that I could barely keep myself from crying. I finished making my bento, and then I departed for school. My school was nearby, so it only takes 15-20 minutes to walk from my house.
As I walked to school, someone was shouting. “Hurry, everyone move, I can’t stop, I’m late!” the person shouted before sharply turning the corner. They slammed into me before I had a chance to say anything, and I was knocked over, losing my bento and its contents all over the ground in the process. I couldn’t stop myself from crying this time – I didn’t have any money for lunch, and there’s no way I could go back to make another, especially with my father being home…