[ CW ] And then she whispered , `` No . '' The story ends with this line .

Trigger warning - child abuse, shitty lurid writing. 
 
 ***** 
 Let me tell you a story. It's about a girl called Ann. You know the type of girl, mommy and daddy were more in love with the pipe than little Ann. On the streets by 10, doing things no little girl should be doing just to survive. I do n't need to tell you the sort of shit that girl did, right? I can tell from your eyes you know exactly what I'm talking about. 
 
 She's sat under a huge willow tree in the park, slowly picking away at a sandwich. Then this guy approaches her. Tall and thin, grey skin, he looked like death. 
 
 `` Hi, sweetie'' he says, the tone of his voice instantly setting her on edge. 
 
 `` Hi.'' she says, clutching the sandwich closer to her chest. 
 
 `` What are you doing on your own?'' 
 
 `` Nothing. I'm not supposed to talk to strangers.'' 
 
 `` Oh, that's a good idea. Well, I should introduce myself then.'' He pulled out some ID, some kind of local council job. She bought it, I mean, why would n't she? Sure, he looked a bit weird, sounded a bit weird, but he worked for the authorities. Maybe he'd help her get off the streets? 
 
 He did. She'd later long for the streets. Again, you do n't need to know the details. Whatever filth or violence he'd subject her to, it always ended with him asking a question. 
 
 `` You know I love you. You love me too, right?'' 
 
 And then she'd whisper, `` yes'' and think about the fact that she had a roof over her head. That she deserved this, that mommy and daddy did n't love her, that's why she was here, why she'd been left alone. 
 
 This went on for a long time. She did n't see the outside world any more, she only heard it. She was stuck in his house, stuck with the smell of damp and human waste in her bedroom, the sounds of the children playing outside, a garden sprinkler going off, a TV from next door. The sounds of normality. The sounds of a life she knew she'd never have. 
 
 One night, just like any other, after he'd asked her the question and she'd whispered yes, he'd forgotten to lock the door. Maybe he was too drunk to remember, maybe he'd started to trust her not to leave. He should n't have. 
 
 Waiting until she heard his bedroom door shut, then waiting longer for the sound of his snores to drift down the hallway, Ann stood up and tip-toed to the door. She reached for the handle, wrapped her hand around it, the cold metal shocking her. 
 
 No, she should n't be doing this, this would only lead to worse things. She should get back in bed. Tomorrow would be another day. 
 
 ( you know i love you you love me too right ) 
 
 She gripped the handle and pulled the door open, stepped into the hallway and was hit by a breeze. Fresh air. A window had been left open. She could leave right now and he'd never know. She could find an adult, get help. 
 
 ( he'd find you ) 
 
 No. The kitchen. It was dark in here, the only illumination coming from the lampost outside the window. She had to be quiet. 
 
 Her tummy rumbled. She needed to eat something that was n't made with boiling hot water in a polystyrene cup. She went through cupboards, trying not to make any noise, but could n't find anything fresh, nothing that was n't in a cardboard box or needed a trip through a microwave. She rifled through drawers until she found something. It reflected light from the outside and shined like something important from one of her old video games. 
 
 She grabbed it and slipped it into her pocket, quietly closed the drawer, and turned back to the hallway. He stood there. Tall, taller than he usually seemed, the shadows themselves did n't seem to want to be near him. 
 
 `` What are you doing?'' he asked. 
 
 She could n't answer. She took a step back. 
 
 `` What are doing, Ann? Why are n't you in your room, sweetie?'' 
 
 In the darkness, in her fear, she did n't notice him getting closer with each word. She was prey, trapped, paralysed. 
 
 `` You need to go back to bed, Ann.'' and then he was right in her face. She did n't realise how quick he could be. The smell of mint on his breath 
 
 ( mint breeze mouthwash honey, keeps you nice and fresh, nice and clean ) 
 
 flooded her nose. She closed her eyes and what happened happened. 
 
 It was her fault. She deserved this, did n't she? 
 
 ( no i do n't ) 
 
 She was in bed now, he was sitting on the edge, stroking her hair. 
 
 `` You know I love you. You love me too, right?'' 
 
 She whispered something, but it was too quiet. He asked again, but she was still too quiet. He shuffled up closer, grabbing her shoulder and squeezing it, tighter than he needed to. It always was. 
 
 `` You know I love you. You love me too... is n't that right, Ann?'' 
 
 He did n't see her arm move. He did n't see her grab the knife from her pocket. He barely saw the blur of her arm as she shoved the knife into his throat. There was blood, you can imagine. 
 
 And then she whispered, `` No.''
