Lisa SXXXXXXXX

30 November 20XX

Garage

DOGGY

I spent a lot of time in here when I was little. I never stopped, I guess. I still come out here to smoke, and when they get really loud, but I don’t like to. It’s really cold in the winter, and the floor’s, like, really gross without shoes. It also smells really, really bad. It’s like gasoline, but also like, sweat.

We used to have three dogs, but they all died. One of them died in the winter, but the ground was frozen, so we had to drill a hole. I didn’t cry, though. I never really liked them.

They were loud, they slobbered, they were gross, and really mean. They’d get in your face, they’d steal shit off the counter. No, they weren’t good pets.

We trained them when I was a kid. Me and Dad, we’d go out here—where we had, like, old mattresses—and we’d do tricks with them. I remember, he had me sit really still, and the dog… did something I don’t know how to explain.

Basically, I’d get on my knees… and wait there until Dad gave a command. And then they’d come over and they’d climb on top of me. It was always really cold because I wasn’t wearing… he never really explained why. I guess it helped.

He liked to take pictures. He took a lot, actually. When it started, the dogs didn’t, like, know what to do, I guess. But they learned fast.

I didn’t like it. It felt weird, and like, I remember how it felt inside me, and it only happened a couple times, but…

We stopped playing with the dogs, and Dad just took pictures of me in swimsuits instead. He stopped a few years later. When the dogs died, he said I was all grown up. He said I was beautiful and kissed me. He always says I’m the favorite.

I can’t stand that motherfucker. I can’t stand that fucking bastard for what he’d done to me. It’s like you think I didn’t know what was going on. I mean, part of me didn’t, I was still just a fucking… girl.

“Doggy,” take a picture, take a video, “it’ll last longer!” I’ve been looking through your shit, I saw all the grody shit you keep under the workbench. I found it so easily. You disgust me. You don’t even care enough to hide what you are.

Month, day, year… hand massage… mouth… shot… this, that. All the way at the bottom, there’s a picture of a little girl standing there. It’s probably cold. Her teeth are white and her body’s soft. She’s swan-blonde with dark brown eyes.

She’s naked and smiling.

You can’t fuck. You can’t hurt me. You can’t punish me. You can’t do anything. You can tie me up in the backyard and cover my eyes, but that’s still not enough.

I’ve heard those sounds so many times. I’ve heard your pants unzipping, pissing, I’ve heard you stroking yourself, I’ve heard you ejaculate, your load is pathetic. If you’re gonna do it on my face, don’t be a bitch. You’re a fucking faggot.

You fucking sissy, spread your legs. You should let me tie you up on a dirty mattress and play with you. Let me do you like you did me. I’ll torture your sex organs until they look like mine. I’ll milk you until your shaft bleeds, and then I’ll keep going.

And like, that’s why I don’t wanna… Shingo-san. I just like, don’t feel anything there anymore. No, don’t touch me. I’ll give you a handjob or a kiss or my panties if you’ll get me a bite to eat, or if I can wash my clothes at your place, or sleep on your floor, or wash my hair. Just please don’t touch me there, Shingo, please.

Just talk to me.

Just help me out.

Just be a friend, for God’s sake.