Sybil's Monologue

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She violently shook her head, allowing dark wisps of hair to cover her pursed mouth. He only pressed the cold rim of the vodka bottle harder against her lips.

“Oh c’mon Sweetie, you said you didn’t want to remember anything.”

His alcohol breath washed over her face. The girl struggled in the rough ropes that bound her arms, each second becoming more desperate. A large hand cupped the hinges of her jaw and squeezed harshly. The man sneered, silver strands dropping onto his eyelashes.

“Mm mmm!” a strangled sound was the only thing she allowed herself to make.

The grasp on the girl’s face grew unbearable, and with teary eyes, her mouth was popped open, the feel of the glass container neck spreading chills throughout her. Burning clear
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Sybil! What are you doing!”

Sybil looked down and saw her miniature arms twisted tightly and caught in a shirt she had been putting on. Her mouth was wet with vodka. No, not vodka. How would she know the taste of that? This taste was iron-filled and bitter. It was blood, and it dribbled down her chin. Her voice squeaked and cracked as she sputtered out her words quickly.

“Da- daddy what was that I saw a man there was a man in my room he was different it wasn’t you,” she sniffed hard and hiccuped, “he was right here in front of me he grabbed me and he wanted me to drink your drink,” Sybil began to sob and wail, “I was going to drown, it burned my throat and daddy he hit me he did!”

Father’s eyes remained fixed on his daughter’s tear trails and bloody bubbling nose. His gaze grew pained and glassy. I know that man. He shook his head of grey hair and came to. The man crouched and calmly stroked Sybil’s brunette curls. How he missed her frizzy halo during dark dawns when she woke.

“Come here, my love. The man was nothing, you’re just troubled by what happened to mommy. He’s gone now, he really is. Let us make a hot bath for you and wash your mouth.”

I know the man
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I said it, I SAID IT, please please forgive me, oh GOD. I truly loved my wife, b b-ut I forced the life out of her, I I-”, he paused, as the golden eyes behind the glass roamed his expression. Nathaniel’s face scrunched in disgust at himself when he recalled the dreadful memory. “My pills and injections, I hated I was flawed, I hated that. I stopped taking them, as if I thought love would cure me. For months I was fine. A miracle, I thought. A miracle. I wanted a child, a sweet baby gal… my wife wasn’t ready… and anger consumed me. Selfishness. Violence. My sanity was losing itself, insanity slowly devouring me. A monster began to breathe through me. I lost reality’s connection. How could I have ignored that?.. ignored that psychosis was possessing me again. Again and again and again. Just as I had let my hands rip across my beloved’s
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