Knee Socks [p.l.t]

You where 6, playing with your dolls, I was 12, playing with hormones. When you where 13, you started getting into makeup, and I was 19, getting into trouble. And when I finally noticed you, it was too late.

4Likes
0Comments
331Views

1. O n e

WARNING: THIS IS FICTION. IN NO WAY IS THIS SERIOUS. IF YOU ARE AWARE OF A PEDOPHILE NEAR YOU/STALKING YOU, CALL THE POLICE. SPOILER ALERT. THIS WILL NOT END HAPPILY JUST LIKE IT WOULD IN REAL LIFE. DON'T REPORT, JUST DON'T READ! THANK YOU!

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

She was an angel dressed in human skin. Her pale complexion and dark hair added to the mystery that was the girl in 25B; the apartment right below mine.

It was a beautiful morning just like the one outside my window now when my world came crashing down. The day I laid my eyes on the most beautiful creature that couldn't possibly come from a humanity such as this. 
The girl was 15 when every waking thought of mine..was of her. She kept me up with her loud music from down below, and occasionally the sounds of her getting into trouble with her parents when she would arrive home late into the night.

If there's one thing I know for certain about her, it was her age. That age is what ruined me the most, because you see, I'm 21. I'm a messed up, drunk-off-my-head-all-the-time, smoking, tattooed, gambling 21 year old; abusing my rights as a legal adult.

She was an angel wrapped in a spring dress with Daisies and pink English Roses braided into her dark hair. Along with those blasted Knee Socks.

Her body sure was something to look at. She was 5'6 with a thin waist, a nice bum, soft pink lips, rosy cheeks, thick lashes, and breasts that would be considered too small for her height. But she was perfect to me.

No matter how much I craved to have her to myself, I knew it would never be. I am six whole years older than her. How cruel fate can be. To know that I was to fall for someone that I wasn't allowed to fall for.

That's why she must remain my secret, and I must remain a secret to her. She cannot know of my dreary existence in the messy apartment that reeked of nicotine above hers.

She was to remain a guilty pleasure. Something that I cannot speak of or touch. Only to look at when I got the chance.

My short-haired, knee sock wearing, under aged secret to keep until the day I greet my grave.

I'm digging it myself by even speaking of her at this moment, but I'm already caught. I'm never to see my sweet breath of fresh air ever again.

How I wish she could have been kept a secret.

My secret.

___________

WARNING: FICTION ONLY! THIS IS IN NOT SERIOUS. IF YOU ARE AWARE OF AN ACTUAL PEDOPHILE NEAR YOU/STALKING YOU, TELL THE POLICE. THIS STORY IS FICTION IN EVERY WAY. 

If you are sensitive with subjects like this, don't report. Just don't read it!

Ciao

~W.S.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...