He brings her hands to touch him. He groans with the feel of those tiny hands on him. It makes him harder. She is sobbing, “Please, let me go. I don’t like this game. I hurt. It is paining me. Please…”
He hugs her and tells her, the game is just begun. She will enjoy it, soon.
The next few minutes she burns, hotter than the tears that flow down her eyes, the pain is extreme and her muffled screams remain thus, his hand clamped over her mouth. He is making noises that drown hers. She is afraid of him. She has never been in so much pain or terror.
It is over.
She cowers as he stands up. Her body coils into a ball, shivering, whimpering. He pulls her up to rise. Her legs give way and she is unable to move. He lifts her up and takes her to the bathroom. He bathes her, the water cold, humming a tune, blissful. She can barely breathe or stand. She sits quietly while he dries her and changes her clothes, carries her to bed and tucks her in.
“Now sleep.” He whispers, “This is our secret. Do not tell anyone.”
She stares at him, eyes blurring.
“I will tell Mommy.” She retorts back. He laughs.
“Nobody will believe you.”
The doll sat there on the shelf, eyes unblinking. The doll that stayed with her over twenty years, unblinking, bald, without clothes on, until she finally gave it away. The hairless doll knew her secret. She was the only one who she spoke to; little insensible monologues of guilt and pain…
As for telling anyone, he was right.
He was right. Nobody believed.
(This is just an extract of the complete short story. It is graphic and I have shared only what can be shared here keeping in mind the readership.)