Daughter's prison - part 3 |
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When I came to, I was in my bed, alone. Sunlight filled the room, brightening it. I yawned, kicking off the covers. Blearily, I glanced at the alarm clock. It was noon. God damn it. I never wake up this late! I sat upright on my bed, then doubled over in pain, as needles of pain shot through my crotch. With sudden alarm, the events of last night came rushing back to me. The image of my father, stroking his raging cock, and getting up off my bed and walking toward me. Oh god. It couldn't have happened. Please... this was all a dream. Even, as I swept the covers to the floor to reveal my lower region, the fierce burning in my crotch told me something bad had happened. I gazed at my panties. The crotch area was stained slightly yellowish, and dotted with deep brown spots, and damp. My eyes then focused on some small brown spots on the bed sheet. Blood stains, I realized, as a coldness settled over me. My eyes told me what my body already suspected, but my mind had refused to believe. I was no longer a virgin. I got out of bed, grabbing a change of clothing, and walked unsteadily into to the bathroom. I could hear the television and occasional sounds of laughter from my father and Timmy downstairs. My crotch was burning. I locked the bathroom door behind me. Sitting on the toilet seat, I hesitantly drew down my panties down to my ankles, and then completely off. Holding it up toward me, I could see that the entire crotch area of my panties swamped with a sticky wetness. Small spots of dried blood stains dotted the crotch area. The heady scent of sex assaulted me, and I almost gagged as I quickly tossed the soiled panties to the floor, and focused my attention to my burning crotch. Bending over forwards, I could see my vaginal lips, glaring back with an angry raw color. A mucous-like film coated whole of my vagina, matting the downy hairs around my crotch. My eyes focused on the raw glistening lips of my vagina. The inner petals protruded slightly outwards, something that had never happened before. I held my breath. I had to make sure. Gingerly, I wiggled my index and middle fingers carefully into my vagina. I inhaled sharply, feeling a fiery pain as my raw wet lips brushed against my fingers. I felt around, seeking the place where my hymen should be. It was gone, completely. I fought back tears. No use crying over spilt milk, I tried to tell myself, but the tears flowed anyway. Wiping the wetness from my eyes so I could see, I delved further. My two fingers slid in deeper than would have been possible in the past, lubricated with the slimy wetness I could feel all around in my vagina. Fighting the urge to gag, I wondered how much of his stuff was in me. Within my vagina, I spread my two fingers slightly, waiting. Time slowed to a crawl, but eventually, some thick milky-colored fluid oozed out. I stared at it. Parts of it were gathered in clots of white spunk, other areas were almost clear. Thin streaks of pink could be seen, which I knew to be my blood. I sat there on the toilet, for almost an hour, watching as my father's sperm dripped slowly out of me. For the next few days, I stayed in my room whenever I could, coming out only make sandwiches for Timmy, or cook dinner for all of us. Like all the times before, Dad pretended the whole thing had never happened, bantering as usual with Timmy and me. But I knew my Dad; he was just a ticking time bomb, and I dreaded each day that passed, wondering if this would be the day that he would blow off. I was fairly certain that he'd drugged me that night-- there was no other possible explanation for my sudden loss of consciousness--and just to be safe, I'd dump out all the open containers of juices and milk in the refrigerator, in case he'd slipped something in it. He probably wouldn't have done that, since that would endanger Timmy, but I didn't want to leave anything to chance. A month past and Dad actually sobered up a bit. Twice this month, he'd actually gone out for second interviews with potential employers. He told all this to me and Timmy during dinner, and I actually started to feel that maybe Dad was turning around. During this time, to my immense relief, my period arrived on schedule. It was the middle of summer, and things were starting to look up. I'd gotten a part-time job at the library, and was saving up some money. It was the first day of August, about a couple of weeks away from Timmy's sixth birthday. I'd been making some clothes for him, since he would be starting school this fall. I had designed the clothes by copying the designs I saw from the Bloomingdale's catalog. Already, I'd made three long-sleeve shirts, a pair of shorts, and two trousers, and was working on the last pair of trousers with the remaining cloth I had left. Outside, I could hear the laughter of Timmy, as he and our neighbor's two kids roamed about in the backyard. There was a knocking on the door, and then it opened as my Dad walked in. I tensed immediately. One look at his sweaty face and his lethargic steps was enough to tell me he'd been hitting the bottle again. Something must have happened to get him like this. I glanced furtively at the open door, wondering if I could make it past him if I needed to. He surveyed the room, his eyes finally resting on me, stooped over the sewing machine in my room. "What's that for!" he gestured at the Timmy's new clothes, which I'd strewn across the bed. "Seems a little too small for you, but hey, I won't be complainin' when I see you struttin' around in em'," he chuckled. I explained to him that they were for Timmy, and I was planning to give it to him next week for his birthday. He just grunted, and to my growing bewilderment, started moving about my room, examining my things. He gazed at the poster James Dean poster I had on the wall, sneering and muttering incoherent remarks. My eyes followed him around the room. What was he doing in here? Why was he drunk again? He'd been sober for an entire month. Something must have happened. Maybe his job interview fell through, I thought. He stopped in front of my wall calendar, that I'd pin to the wall, next to my dresser mirror. Through the reflection, I could see his eyes as they swept across the calendar page. Grunting, his finger tapped at some of the words scribbled on the calendar. "Timmy's sixth birthday." he read, his words slurred. His finger traced the red circle I'd drawn around it. "What's this 'X' for," he said, tapping his thick finger on a red 'X' that appeared in the box a couple of days before Timmy's birthday. I felt my face flushing red. "That's when I get my period," I said in a bare whisper. "Speak up, I can't hear you." he grunted, turning around to face me. "That's when I get my period," I said louder, a tinge of anger escaping. Why couldn't he ever just stay sober? My father just grunted, turning back around and stared at the "X". Slowly his finger traced circles around and around it. He turned around back to me, his face frozen in a smirk. "So Janey, what do you use? Tampons or those winged Tampa's on the outside?" I remained silent, and he asked again, louder. "The other things" I said, glancing at the open door. He was much closer to the door than me. I wouldn't be able to make it passed him, I thought sadly. "You should give tampons a try. I hear they feel pretty good when it's up your pussy. Almost like a little cock," he laughed, taking another swig from his bottle. "Of course, you might not have any use for 'em soon," he chuckled again, gazing meaningfully at me. I looked up at him in confusion. What was he talking about? I tried to reasoning with him. "Dad, you're drunk! Why don't you go downstairs and take a nap? I'll brew some coffee-". My voice cracked, as he strode to the door, slamming it shut with a solid thunk, leaving us both in the room. I could see the beginnings of madness and rising lust in his eyes, as he turned toward me. "Oh god, this can't be happening... not again." I whispered to myself. I was seated by the sewing machine, and tried to get up, but he was suddenly there, right up behind me. Immediately, I felt his big hands as they cupped my full breasts through the thin material of my T- shirt. "I was just talking to Timmy today, and do you know what he told me that he wants for his birthday?". His voice was slurred, and the smell of alcohol on his breath made me gag. I sat rooted in the chair, paralyzed in fright as his hands mauled my breasts, mashing them tightly against one another. "What did he want," I finally whispered. "He wants something only the two of us can give him." His hands moved lower, down my breasts, to my smooth belly. He began patting me there softly. "He wants a baby sister." I gasped loudly in alarm, springing up from the seat. I stood up, but he kept his arms tight around me. "No! Daddy, please stop it. We can't do this! You must have heard wrong," I cried out tearfully. He kicked the chair away from between us, and pulled me back against him. I gasped, feeling the stiff lump of his manhood as he pressed my buttocks against it. "I ain't lying. That's exactly what the little tyke told me," he said his voice heavy with lust. "And I know you, Janey...you couldn't refuse Timmy anything could you." Maintaining his tight embrace, he half carried me with him toward the bed. He spun me around with ease, and with a quick shove, tossed me backward onto the bed. I lay there stunned, on my back, as he quickly ripped off his T-shirt. I looked toward the door, consider making a run for it. He looked at me, and said "Don't even think of it. My god, your body's tempted me enough this past month. Mark my words. You're gonna get fucked good today. I haven't been holding off a whole month's worth of cum just to jack it off. So either we do it together, or I'll do it my way. Now, get out of them clothes." I laid there speechless. Everything had happened so fast. This had to be a dream. But he stayed there, right in front of me, waiting impatiently. I had no idea what 'his way' was, but I knew it couldn't be good. Reluctantly, I removed my T-shirt, pulling it over my head. He just stood there waiting. I sat up, and pulled my thin cotton pants off. All I had on was my panties now. Reaching for the T-shirt, I held it over my breasts, trembling as I tried to cover myself from him. But he just leaned forward, yanked it from my grasp, and tossed it aside. "Now the panties!" he growled. "Daddy!" I sobbed. "Can't we just-". "The panties, or you'll regret it," his eyes flashed menacingly. Sobbing softly, I peeled the panties slowly off. I eased them off my hips, down to my ankles, and then removed them completely. "Good!" he nodded approvingly, his eyes glued to my crotch. "Now lay back down on the bed, and spread your thighs." I gulped in fear, but did as he asked. Flat on the mattress, between my parted thighs, I awaited the inevitable. I watched as he crouched slightly, removing his shorts in one fluid motion. His massive cock sprang out. My breath caught in my throat as I saw close up the gigantic dimensions of my father's big solid penis. THICK was the only word to describe it. It looked at least as thick as my wrist! My stomach knotted in fear, as I gazed at the monstrosity, knotted with thick purplish blue veins all around. In the brightness of the room, I could see clearly the pulsating veins surging towards the large head that was dripping with the moistness of his escaping pre-cum. I quickly closed my legs, even as he crawled up onto the edge of the bed before me. Kneeling before my locked thighs, he growled out. "Spread em, you little slut. Don't try to play coy with me, I know how much you've been hungering for a piece of daddy's meat ever since I gave you your birthday present." His hands snaked out to firmly grasp my ankles. I resisted, but he was too strong, and slowly he parted my thighs. I moaned in fear as he pulled me by my ankles, toward him, until my thighs were to either side of his hips. My buttocks were lifted off of the bed, and his large hands were suddenly there, clenching into the softness of my buttocks. He kneed my thighs even further apart, and hunched forward. His fingers wrapped firmly around his fat blood- engorged trunk, as he guided the purple head of his thick bloated cock-its slit dripping thickly with pre-cum- slowly and deliberately toward the mouth of my pussy. I choked in fear, cringing as I the searing hot contact of my father's large bulbous head cockhead wetly against my nether lips. I could feel it, hot against me. He rubbed it up and down across my lips, smearing it wetly with his leaking pre-cum. Finally, he looked up at me, his eyes clouded with lust. "Time to give Timmy his birthday present," he chuckled wickedly. He thrust forward, and his cock, hard and thick, moved into me. I gasped out loud in shock, as I felt my tight, pussy lips splitting open around his massive thickness. Then the huge bulbous head of his cock was sliding agonizingly into me, as my lips stretched to its limits to contain his girth. There was a wet noise, and suddenly my lips swallowed the entire corona of his head. I inhaled sharply, my eyes wide, as I felt the thickness of my father's cockhead in me. "Mmmmmh! Feel that Janey? Your little tight pussy's nibbling on Daddy's cock," he chuckled. "I bet little your pussy's hungry, isn't she. Janey, baby, is your little pussy hungry for more of Daddy's meat? Well, supper's ready!" "No..." I moaned, as his hands clenched the cheeks of my buttocks cruelly. He set his teeth, and shoved forward with a mighty lunge, thrusting with the strength of all his manhood and virility. I felt every ridge, every bump of his thickness, as he drilled into me in great waves of warm moist flesh until suddenly his swollen penis head pelvis smacked tight into the end of my tunnel. I grunted in pain. The sheer enormity of his flesh was more than I could bear. It felt as if a telephone pole had been shoved into me--he was so thick. Gasping out, I tried to twisting away from him. My whole groin was on fire, but my movements were futile. With his incredible length and thickness, my father pressed forward, impaled me under him with his flesh. "God, you've got one tight pussy!" my father gasped. He pulled the cheeks of my ass hard back against him and held his prick inside me. Flexing out to its fullest extent, he wriggled his hips, grinding his swollen cock head right up against my cervix. "Ohhhhhh.. God," I gasped out at the sensation. I could feel him, way up, deep against the entrance to my room. "That's right, baby, feel Daddy's big cock, honey. Feel it deep, deep in your tender young belly. How's it feel to get fucked by a real man, baby? You just lay back now and enjoy every inch of Daddy's thick meat." With that, his hands gripped me tightly by my hips, pulling me toward him. His thick hard blood-filled cock sunk to its fullest depth inside my quivering belly. He then drew his long, sword of a cock back. Pain flared anew as the sides of his huge cock slid across my raw and narrow passageway. I was dimly aware of the lewd, wet squelching noises as his huge monstrous cockhead mashed again and again into the very end of her pussy, his hips were twisting in a cork-screw motion as he strove to drill his truncheon deeper into my loins. "Ohhh! Ohh! Ohhh," I heard myself moaning. My belly felt stuffed full with his maleness. Minutes ticked by. I closed my eyes, shuddering my father's movements became steady, his hot thick flesh sliding smoothly against my wet, stretched pubic lips as he pumped his organ back and forth inside her body. Opening my eyes, I looked at the dresser mirror. The sight I saw in the reflection repulsed me. I could see his broad back, as he bent over me, his hips rising and falling as he rutted into me. I wasn't able to see my face; all I saw were my slim pale thighs, upright and to each side of waist. "I was really being fucked," I thought, watching the reflection sadly as he pistoned his thickness in and out of me. After more minutes past, his breaths grew shorter and shorter, along with his strokes. I could feel him growing and growing deep... deep inside me. Oh god, this was it, I thought suddenly, horrified. He's going to cum in me! The knowledge filled me with despair and horror, and I felt my tears flow anew, cascaded in torrents down my cheeks. The image of me, under him, as he sprayed my delicate womb with his hot white sticky lust made me sick with nausea. Oh God, I don't want my father's baby! This thought ran crazily through my mind, and foolishly, I clench my ass muscles in a senseless gesture of defense. That did it! As my muscles clasped tightly around my father's hard-driving, lust swollen cock, he threw back his head with a guttural bellow, shoving his virility forward and into me in one last furious thrust, plunging his cockhead right smack deep into the crack of my cervix. He held me tightly against him, as fat wads of his hot sticky spunk jetted out, drenching inundating my insides full with his thick clinging seed. On and on, his huge cock jerked and twitched to its completion, white hot spurts of sperm foaming out the stretched lips around the base of his cock, drenching the matted hair of our fused crotches. "Noo! Oh, God, no, no, nooooooo!" I was sobbing hysterically. Finally, my father collapsed in exhaustion over me. I laid there, sobbing softly, his weight on me. I could still feel him deeply inside me, his cock twitching in the aftereffects of coition. His weight was heavy. I could feel the scalding hotness of his sperm, a fiery pool deep in my belly. I laid there under him for a few minutes. But his weight was too much. I twisted under him, trying to squeeze out from under his mass. Groaning, he finally flipped himself off me, his face red and perspiring profusely from exertion. A moist sucking noise resounded in the room as his fat dripping cock slurped noisily out of me. My eyes shot downward, watching as a string of creamy semen trailed out, as my pussy lips closed behind him. Gasping from his exertion, he flipped over onto his back besides me, his chest rising rapidly up and down. Lost in my own misery, I lay there, prone on my back, my legs spread vulgarly in the position my father had taken me, sobbing softly. After a while, he propped himself up on his elbow. I felt his gaze on me, eyeing me up and down with satisfaction. His gaze lowered triumphantly to my raw red glistening pussy, which gaped partially open. He'd done that...stretch my tight near-virgin pussy open with his wide cock. White frothy foam coated the lips and wet matted hair of my well-fucked pussy. "How'd it feel getting the 'ole in and out' from your daddy?" he chuckled. "Guess you ain't so high and mighty now, huh? Heh!" he laughed, his hand reaching forward, slipping between my damp thighs, to cup my tender mound- even as I sobbed aloud in renewed despair. I felt his fat fingers rudely probing into the folds of my swollen pussy. Ignoring my sobs, he spanned out his fingers, rudely spreading apart my tender lips. Fascinated, he watched as thick gulps of his creamy sperm oozed out. He gloated lecherously over the copious amount of spunk he had pumped into his little girl. "Damn! Daddy really creamed BIG TIME inside of you, didn't he," he chuckled, amidst my piteous sobs. "Your pretty little pussy must be just FULL of Daddy's baby making sperm. Christ, but I'd be damn if little Timmy doesn't get his birthday present after all!" he gloated. He got up off the bed. His now-flaccid penis shone wetly from our juices and his balls hung low, depleted. Grabbing his shorts and underwear, he slipped them on in front of me, even as his eyes roamed in satisfaction over my aching body. "C'mon, time to get a move on! It's almost six. I told Timmy we'd be going out to dinner tonight. He picked up his shirt from the ground, and pulled it on. Walking over to my dresser, he began opening the drawers and rummaging around. He turned around, smiling. In his hands, he held a panty liner. Walking back toward the bed, he picked up my panties from the ground, and held them both out to me. I looked at the liner and panties he held before me, then at his grinning face. Slowly, I took my panties from his outstretched hand, hoping he would leave now, but he just stood there...waiting...and smiling. Resigned, I sat up, wincing in pain as I felt a dull ache in my belly, from his deep thrusts. Under his lecherous gaze, I donned my panties. He waited, expectantly, his hand outstretched, holding the liner. Glaring back defiantly at him, I finally grabbed the panty liner, slipping it under the crotch of my panties. As I slipped it on, I could feel the sticky wetness of his warm spunk on my fingers, and I had to fight the urge to vomit at the thought of all his sperm deep inside my womb. He stayed there in the room, watching me get dressed. We walked down the stairs together. Calling for Timmy, who was still playing outside, we all piled into the car. Throughout dinner, I nibbled at my food, my appetite gone. All I could feel was the burning feeling between my legs, and the escaping wetness. I clenched my thighs tightly together, feeling more wetness seeping down my thigh. My panties were drenched, the liner doing little more than act as a dam against the torrent of sperm sloshing around inside me. My dad kept eyeing me smugly. He was well aware of how uncomfortable I was; his whole load of sperm dripping slowly out of me, and from his expression, he was reveling in it. When we got back home, I ran upstairs to take a shower. I quickly removed my shorts. My panties were totally drenched, looking almost sheer. I peeled them off, along with the lining. I looked down; my crotch was a mess. My raw lips were red and puffy, glistening with his jism. I sat down on the toilet, parting the lips of my vagina, and watched as a river of his sperm oozed out. I considered douching, but knew from health class that that would only increase the chances of pregnancy. So I sat there, like before, coaxing as much as I sperm out as I could. Later on that night, as I was tucking in Timmy for the night, I mentioned to him that it was going to be his birthday in two weeks, and whether there was anything that he would like, and maybe he could pray to God for it. "Oh yes! I've been praying every night!" he said excitedly. "I even told Dad about it, just so he could mention it to God in case God didn't hear me, because I'm so little." "What did you pray for," I whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse. "A baby sister!" he beamed. Johnny's got a new sister, and she's the best thing! I was over there today, and they even let me carry her a bit, and I didn't even drop her at all!" I smiled at his enthusiasm, even as tears filled my eyes. "Oh god, what ideas you must have given dad," I thought. But I could no more blame Timmy for it than I could blame my mom for dying and leaving us with Dad. "God works in mysterious ways, dear. Sometimes he might not seem to be paying attention to you, but know that he's always looking out for you." I paused. "Timmy, even if God doesn't give you a little sister for your birthday, who's to say you won't get one later on, in the future?" "I know!" he beamed up at me. "That's what Daddy says too. He says that I might almost be seven before I get mine, but I'm willing to wait!" That wasn't what I'd meant, but the idea that my father had been talking to him so matter-of-factly about him getting a baby sister brought a chill to my spine. "God, he really intends to get me pregnant." I kissed Timmy goodnight, walking out troubled. I didn't know what I would do if I got pregnant. I didn't have enough money for an abortion, and I knew dad wouldn't allow me to get one. He met me outside my bedroom door, as I prepared to go to bed. "So, did Timmy tell you about his birthday wish?" he said mockingly. He chuckled aloud, as he saw as my face redden, positive proof that I'd indeed spoken to Timmy about that very topic. He continued to stand there, blocking the doorway to my room. I tried squeezing past him, but his hands came up, gripping my arms tightly, and pulling me toward him in a tight embrace. "From tonight on 'til Timmy's birthday, you'll be sharing my bed," he whispered gruffly in my ear. I gazed up at him in shock. He couldn't be serious? But from his frozen expression, I could see he was dead serious. He led me firmly down the hall, past Timmy's bedroom, into his bedroom. Locking the bedroom door behind him, he turned around, facing me. "You know the drill. Clothes off...on the bed...and spread em for daddy. Afterwards, when he'd emptied himself into me, he made me sleep with him in the 'spoon' position, his shrunken but lengthy penis still deep inside me, as he drifted off to sleep, his arms clutching me possessively. He woke up two more times during the night, hard and thick within me, thrusting hotly into me until he'd emptied his seed once again. For the next two weeks, he basically kept me there in his bed, fucking me whenever it fancied him. He ordered in takeout for lunch as well as dinner, and left Timmy to play outside with the neighbor's kids. He took delight in fucking me in various positions-from behind with me on all fours, or missionary, or me on my back, legs resting on his shoulders while he sank into me deeply. My pussy became a constant sticky mess, always slick and dripping with his spunk. The bed sheets became indelibly stained with cum stains, and the room reeked of raw sex. After the fifth day, I knew with a hopeless certainty that I was going to be pregnant for sure, if not already. He'd been fucking me right through the middle of my cycle, when I was the most fertile. It excited him so much, to be grinding his fat cock deep against my cervix, as he caressed my smooth taut belly. "Just think, Janey," in a few months, your slim sexy belly is gonna get all big and round. Knocked up by your own daddy! Go! d!" he'd groan, as he emptied yet another river of sperm into me. He took particular delight in producing unwanted orgasms from me, pointing them out, knowing how embarrassing and humiliating it was for me. The first time I orgasmed was when he'd had me sitting astride him, forcing me to slide up and down on his thick cock. He'd already come three times that day, and was taking forever to come again. I couldn't help it; I'd been riding up and down on his thickness for over half an hour, and to my horror and utmost shame, I started to feel pleasure in my loins. Minutes passed, and the pleasure reached a pinnacle, and I remember gasping and shaking, feeling my pussy muscles convulsed around his thick spurting cock. He knew immediately what had happened, and started roaring out loud about how he could feel me cumming all over his cock. I broke down in tears, my shame was complete. Timothy's birthday came and went. Dad finally let me sleep back in my room, but it was already too late. My period never showed up. I was hysterical, while he strutted about the house, proud as a peacock. He and Timothy talked excitedly about his baby sister, while I locked myself up in the room, crying uncontrollably. The month of September came and went, along with my plans to finish my senior year in high school. I stayed home, not able to bear the thought of the great shame that I would feel when the other kids begin to notice when my belly started swelling. Timmy did start kindergarten though, and everyday, I walked him to school and picked him up afterwards. Since I was at home all the time now, with Timmy gone most of the day, Dad's sexual interest in me flared anew. I didn't even resist anymore. What was the point? He couldn't sully me any more than I was already. As the weeks passed, I eventually lost my inhibitions. After some time, I actually started fucking him back. Trapped in the house all day and night, there was really nothing else to do, so we basically wound up fucking a lot. It got so, that just the sight of his thick member was enough to get me wet. The weeks turned to months, and my belly began to swell with the life my Dad had created in me. On a Saturday morning, in April, I gave birth to healthy seven-pound girl. I named her Hope. Lying there, in the hospital bed, cuddling the delicate bundle of warmth as she nursed on my breasts, sanity and reason--properties which had abandoned me these past months-returned suddenly to me. I saw for the first time, with clarity and rising disgust, how I'd become nothing more than a mindless sex slave for my father. I had to end this cycle, or else it would just wind up repeating itself over and over. If I continued down this road, I knew for sure I'd only wind up getting pregnant again. All my dreams of escaping with Timmy, and now Hope, would remain just that...dreams. I was a picture of perfect coolness and composure when my dad stepped into the room to look at his newest daughter. When he reached out for her, I looked him straight in the eyes, my eyes cold as ice. "Dad, it's over. I'm going away with Timmy and Hope, and you're not going to follow us. If you do, I'll tell everyone about us. I'll tell them how you raped me, and locked me up until you made sure I was pregnant. I'll tell them about Hope." He began to utter something back, but stopped mid- sentence, as he saw the look in my face. His face paled, as he realized from my dead-calm expression that I was entirely serious. I continued. "If you don't want to get locked up for what you did to me, you'll leave it drop and consider yourself lucky. I'll be back to the house in a few days to pack up our stuff, then we'll be gone." The room was silent. I spoke again, this time a whisper. "Please leave. I'm tired." I said closing my eyes, and dismissing him once and for all from my life. 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