Thread: Fiction: Immoral Teaching
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Old 04-03-2012, 09:55 AM   #184
fullofsecrets
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Default Immoral Teaching Part Forty One

Her eye lids were drooping as she finally came full term with reality. She looked around, everything was dark for a moment, but then she realized she hadn't completely opened her eyes. The bathroom.... why am I in the bathroom? she wondered.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes a little more to get to a full awake-ness. Looking down, she noticed that there was a washcloth and bar of soap next to her on the floor. She took them and stood up slowly, favoring her now very tender, delicate body. Her reflection was absolutely horrifying and Heather could not believe her eyes. Each arm was covered in hand imprinted bruises, her whole torso was lathered in blood, dirt, sweat, and even more bruises. The middle of her legs were another unsightly area, the entire circumference of her thighs were a mix of black, blue, purple, and burnt red colors.

After getting the washrag covered in soap she gently caressed her body with it. Slowly, painfully, but surely removing the dirt and blood. A sting shot through Heather's body each time she rubbed the rag over a cut, but she endured the pain. She knew she couldn't scream, screaming was a death sentence; but then again so was this turmoil.

When she was finally clean she set the bar of soap and rag in the tub at the corner. She went back to the mirror and took a second look. She was clean now, but in her own mind she was still just as much of a sickly vision as before. She was just about to sit back down on the floor when she noticed the bottom cabinet door of the sink counter open just a crack. She bent down to the cabinet and opened the door all of the way. There were normal bathroom items. Toilet paper, cleaners, rags, a towel or two, but then she noticed something irregular there. There was a pocket knife blade in the front corner. It was only the blade, no handle. It was an estimated 7 inches.

Protection item maybe? Heather thought. She picked it up carefully and held it in her hands as she leaned back and sat down on the linoleum. She stared at it, wondering why it had been there.
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I am the author of "A Hidden Voice" and "Immoral Teaching". Thank you for everyone's comments on my writing. And my stories do not continue without comments. That means *no new parts till there are new comments*
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