My Inner Ink: Hate
The Tattoos on My Soul
Part 6: Hate
“It will be our little secret,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Take them, your mother won’t know. Hide them,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Just one little kiss,” as he slipped his tongue into her young mouth.
“Keep them,” she replied.
She pushed him away and leapt out of the car, and hurried to brush her teeth.
A 12- year old wise to a pedophile.
The only hate she would ever truly know.
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