There was once a small boy named Donald who once dreamed of being a princess. Every night he would open his windows and blinds and make a wish to become a princess and every day he would be disappointed that it never came true. The little boy was too scared to talk about his wish for he knew others would laugh at it. But he still wished every night before he truly went to bed faithfully.

The drive into the city was peaceful. Papa never told me what the city was called, nor did I care about the name. It’s just the place when we needed something that we couldn’t find in town.

I find that drawing soothes my nerves. Painting takes time and I have to get it set up, but drawing is easy with just paper and pen, I can let my mind go and doodle. Sometimes I’m working on a picture. Sometimes drawing comics. Sometimes I just doodle. Right now, I’m currently making a really fucked up piece of art while I cry my eyes out for the umpteenth time. Oh boy, am I emotional. I don’t think I’ve ever been this emotional in my life. I’d cried sure, but never for this long. I don’t even know what I’m drawing to be honest, all the tears are staining the paper.

It was early morning at the Hazel house when I had a broom and dustpan in my hand going everywhere with hardwood and sweeping any and everything I could. Next, I vacuumed everywhere with carpet and dust cleaned anywhere and everywhere: the walls, ceiling fans, shelves, etcetera. Then I wiped off the counters in both bathrooms and kitchen. Finally, I was washing plates and making breakfast when Mr. Hazel walked in.

“Hey, Rome, mighty early.” He sniffed, “Mmm, that smells good, wha cha making?”

I smiled, “I’m just making muffins, I found some in the cabinet.”

It was not long before I arrived at Frankfurt’s house. It was decent size and sweetly placed in a nice neighborhood. I had met Frankfurt in kindergarten after both being into Pokémon. We used to hang out every day with our Gameboys and play the newest games. We somehow got every class together, and that cemented our friendship continuing even now.

It was almost three when my parents came in with dad’s signature, “Hey buddy, how you feeling?” He always comes in with that when I put myself in the hospital accidently.

“I’m fine I guess.” Mom came up to me and put a hand on my shoulder

“You gave us quite a scare with that stunt you pulled.” Dad’s voice nice yet with a tone of ‘you’re so fucking dead when we get home’. Why can’t he just be an asshole all the time and not put up this stupid act?

I could see a light at the end of a tunnel, “Come on, push, push.” A voice cheered, “You’re almost there, keep pushing!” When my eyes adjusted, I was looking at a nurse. Did I just get Isekai’d? “Mr. and Mrs. Kellerston, congratulations! It’s a girl!” Oh no, I wasn’t isekai’d. The nurse put me in mom’s arms. She looked much younger and happier with a smile on her face. Dad’s face popped into view; I’ve seen pictures of my dad young but seeing him now is so different. He’s attractive, very attractive, nothing like he was when I was well yeah.

“D-Do you re-really wan-wanna do this, Roman?” My pudgy, little brother, Naples stuttered to me. He was only nine, timid, and terrified of anything and everything. One time he got scared of a snail. Yes, a snail, those cute little buggers. Mom had to hold him real tight to get him to stop screaming. Probably doesn’t help that he’s baby’d by our Mom. Fortunately for me, I got a free snail to add to my collection. Named her Shelly along with Dr. Slugger and Slimy.

Every day is a struggle. My father left just when my sister was born, and my mother went crazy soon after that. Drugs and alcohol consumed her, and she was fired from job to job never really staying at one. The money she does get, she uses on herself. When she sober, she’s horrible to deal with. I don’t know what happened to my dad or why he left us. Mom never mentioned anything about him and when I asked, she’d beat me. Asking her any question like that got me a beating. Asking for money got a beating. Asking her for food got a beating. Just existing got a beating.

I’m in a bind. Not just any bind, the type of bind that normally means you’re in deep shit. I’m currently staring at the decorated walls of the principal’s office. The constricting room was littered with paper and folders. Pictures of his family were ornamented on top of the mess and the trashcan was full of fast food. The principal sat in front of me. A balding middle age man still tall and not any less attractive. Not that I’m into men or anything.

Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months, and months turn to years. Five years is how long a young girl laying in her comfy bed had been wandering. Five years since her parents murdered and her home and nation burned and annexed like a forgotten child’s toy. The memories were vivid, the smell of smoke and ash, of iron and blood. The bodies laying candidly in their beds. The shrieks and cries of her siblings and the hooves of the horses.

...

First lewd story EVER. Tell me if it's any good

Okay, the last one for the night. The beginning of a new chapter. I'm going to be revising Trial by Fire too. I hope this clears up any confusion. Enjoy :3

I had a difficult time writing a torture scene, but I hope you enjoy. Tell me if I should add more or change it because I'm thinking of revisioning it.

Instead of calling this part Player One chapter 2 part 5. I decided to call it something more fitting and interesting. Hope you enjoy because I did

Sorry if this one isn't as good. I need to get ready for work. Also, I didn't even notice that this was the final chapter. I mentally planned for this and it feels too quick. I may revision it for later.

This one took longer than expected. I didn't know how I felt about what I wrote at first, still don't actually. Oh well, it'll probably all change eventually. Thanks for reading.

Okay, definitely not dead yet. I finally got out of my shit hole of a small town and now I'm living in Provincetown. Pretty great, considering where I lived before. Anyway, this is a much longer story that isn't done yet. I'd appreciate if you give me some input, thank you :3

A raindrop falls directly onto a boy in an ebony black leather tunic with hems and seams of shiny silver. He wears a belt of silver with a belt buckle of an eagle with fists crossed into an X behind. On his chest is a Velcro patch of a red shield. His face was smooth and pretty, and his body so small and petite that the tunic he wears was a baggy on him. He wasn’t always that way, but due to recent events. His body is turning that way.

The man in front of him wears the same tunic and belt. Only on his chest is a silver shield with silver fists crossed X, and a star on the top.