Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

She could hear… she could hear them behind her. The sound of flesh on flesh, her mothers soft, breathy wimpers of pain. She closed her eyes for a moment, but that just helped her imagine the sight she would see if she turned around. She’d seen it all before, of course. Her childhood was a blur of pain and fear and anger. She tightened her grip on Oleander, and her eyes this time were less pleading, harder. A hint of steel.

“I don’t care, My Lord Oleander.” she forced the words out as he told her the risk. He brushed his paw over hers and she pulled the paw back. The symphony of moving flesh behind her made the motion over her own paw more sickening. “I’ll take that risk.” She couldn’t sit here and listen to this for the hours it would take for her body to come down from this high.


"Speech"