The Blue

I knew I shouldn't have done it. You know, go to the mall so late with itchy fingers. But I didn't want to be home alone with Uncle. He touched me again last week. Down there. It scares me because I didn't know a lot about sex until I googled it and found out too much. That was a couple years ago after Daddy died. Now I'm a junior in high school and a virgin and my uncle doesn't keep his hands to himself even though it's a crime.

Our little secret.

I told him my insides hurt, maybe I should tell my doctor, and he let me get my nose pierced.

He lets me go to the mall so I rode my bike there at 8pm, an hour before closing. Harry posted a story in the food court thirty minutes ago so maybe I'd see him, except maybe he'd be with Maddy and that would be awkward. She's my friend but I still wanted Harry to ask me out instead. I haven't had a boyfriend since Joff and it's starting to feel really lame. I feel lame in the Vale in general.

I have a lot of Instagram followers though. Like five thousand of them. Uncle lets me post my outfits probably because he buys them. That night I wore my baby blue pleated mini skirt and babydoll Cinnamoroll t-shirt, ruffle socks and chunky Mary Janes with heart shaped buckles. I put my hair in two high-up bubble braids with my bangs down. Very reformed school girl.

I go to Moongate Academy but sometimes I wonder if the Gods really are real or if people just want them to be because they're scared.

I wonder why the Mother and Father would strike mine down.

The Uncle isn’t one of the Seven for a reason, I think.

Iron Oaks Mall is supposed to be the fancy mall. It has marble floors and big ceiling windows and chrome banisters atop thick glass barriers. Lots of designer stores you can’t find anywhere else in the Vale. Lots of places where the managers know Uncle by sight and if he steps a foot past the door they come fawning all over him.

And me.

I’m like a doll to him most of the time: posed, poised, lifeless. I make myself into a doll the rest of the time. I learned from him. People on Insta really like it.

I got a very cute raspberry sorbet from the Yi-Tian ice cream booth, like they curl the sorbet into cute rolls, then top it with berries and whipped cream. Click. Oo yep, that was going on my story for sure. I watched my entire story to make sure it looked good. Harry had watched every single post but didn’t react to any of them. Ugh.

I felt aimless so I walked to the food court, palms clammy and stuck to my cup of ice cream. I sucked the back of the spoon cutely as I scoped the scene.

Oh Gods.

The place was almost empty, dozens of dozens of vacant tables, and a few cleaning ladies scrubbing them down. At the far back sat Harry and Maddy, next to each other, making out.

I crunched my ice cream cup accidentally and sorbet goo burst down my fist. No, no, no. How could he? Last thing he sent me was a good night text!!! The signs were there! But if he didn’t see me, it didn’t count. Yes. Leave. My face burned as I chucked my cup in the trash and attempted to lick my fingers clean.

Double ugh.

The freaky looking security guard was watching me from the shadowy side of the elevators. I only noticed because he stepped out, smirking, or at the very least doing something twitchy with his lips. He’s ugly because half his face is badly scarred and his greasy black hair doesn’t grow on that side. So he folds it over, all thin and sparse, down to his shoulders.

He’s scary because he’s huge. Like, a super bodybuilder who’s at least seven feet tall, some sort of giant beast trapped in human form. His hairy arms are covered in tattoos. He has a heavy brow and fucked up nose. Sorry, messed up. Whatever. I don’t care. I see him all the time because I’m here all the time, with or without Uncle. One time I was alone and I bumped into him and he said, “Careful, girl.”

I apologized profusely to his chest and ran in the other direction.

That was what I did just then. Like, get me out of here!

Only I didn’t leave the mall. I washed my hands and took a full length mirror selfie. The lighting in the bathroom was nice and glowy. Definitely story material. Take that Harry!

And I don’t know why I do this. Did this. I guess it started after the first time Uncle, you know. It was stupid because he’d buy me whatever I wanted, almost, unless he thought something was tacky and tasteless and below our rank. Then I’d have to buy it with allowance money. Really, I had plenty.

I got a different feeling when I slipped things into my purse, my pockets, my empty Starpike cup. Like I could do something. Something naughty. Something Uncle would hate. My heart raced at a million miles per hour and my head felt floaty. Like I starved myself that day, only without the starvation. But the feeling fed me too. I didn’t care that half my sorbet ended up in the trash.

I had Waynwood’s.

The department store was pretty abandoned, being so late. But it was big enough to hide a girl like me, a girl who knew the store clerk, Mel. I waved when I entered and went to the more edgy and fashionable section, where Uncle is loath to go.

I play a game. Dance a dance, really. It’s like how I am at home, aware of my every move, choreographing myself to real life. The doll game. Play pretend. Be a real girl, flesh and blood. So I did a highly convincing job of browsing the racks, clothing, jewelry, accessories. I slipped a pair of earrings into my palm, then into my vintage Juicy purse, without skipping a beat.

I’m Petyr Baelish’s little girl. Who, me? Stealing? Never!

I’m the best at this game. I’m the winner.

So three pairs of earrings, one bracelet, and a set of silk headbands later, I waved goodbye to Mel.

I managed three hurried steps past the security scanners before I smacked into a wall of blue.

A uniform on a broad chest. A shiny badge that read Clegane. My blood ran cold—him again!

“Excuse me,” I said, but he caught my wrist.

“Not so fast, girlie. We need to have a little chat.”

“W-what? Why?” I clutched my shoulder bag tighter against my armpit. “If my uncle hears about this—”

Officer Clegane laughed, loud and raspy, like I had told him a nasty joke. “Go ahead, call your uncle.” He brought his face down, so his gross hair lapsed at my temples. His breath smelled like cigarettes. His boots reflected my baby blue skirt. “I’m sure he’d love to hear how his pretty niece is a little criminal.”

“No,” I gasped.

“Yes,” he barked back.

I didn't like him in my face. I jerked away, looked desperately over my shoulder. Mel stood behind the register, arms crossed at her thin waist. She was smiling.

"That's right," Officer Clegane growled. He slammed a pair of handcuffs on my wrists and grabbed my elbow in one of his big, hairy paws. "You're coming with me. Might be you should tell the truth. Yeah, that ought to do."

Hot tears slipped to my chin. I thought of screaming or crying louder, I'm Petyr Baelish's little girl!

But I had lost the game.

I was a loser.

Officer Clegane dragged me into the underbelly of the mall, some basement level with fluorescent lights and gray industrial carpet. He unlocked the door of a room, not much bigger than his wingspan, with nothing but a metal table and two metal chairs in it. When he tossed me into one of the chairs, he left a series of angry red finger marks on my upper arm.

"Rude," I said under my breath.

Officer Clegane just stood there. I didn't know if he was a real cop or security guard or what but he wore dark blue pants and a lighter blue button-up, both stretched to their limit due to the monstrous size of his muscles. He had a black belt overladen with a set of keys, a walkie talkie, a black baton, and—and—

A gun.

Cops are supposed to protect and serve the innocent. I'm innocent. I'm just a girl. The gun scared me badly and so I was already crying when he said, "Open your purse, girl. Show me what you took."

My whole body shook, but I managed to get my handbag out from under my arm. I set it daintily on the table, unzipped it.

Words cannot express how stupid I felt, when I pulled out those stupid earrings, the bracelet, and the headbands. I laid them in a row. I thought bleakly of taking a picture. #mallhaul

Ugh :-(

"I'm really sorry," I said. "I'm really so sorry. I'll give them back, I swear. And I'll never do it again."

Officer Clegane unsheathed his baton, and poked around in my stolen treasure. "That lot right there—that's misdemeanor theft. You're looking at six months in jail and a hefty fine, plus a mark on your permanent record. You trying to go to college, sweetheart?"

I bit my lip. Those golden hoops didn't seem so cute anymore, not even with the strawberry charms on them. But I didn't know if I wanted to go to college. I didn't know if I wanted a future. I thought about dying a lot. How it would be easier than suffering every single day. The gun scared me because it was tempting. A faster out than pills or razors according to the internet. How bad did I have to behave for Officer Clegane to give me one bullet?

He stuck his baton under my chin, lifted it. "No, she's going to be a little jailbird. That's it. "

I was crying pretty hard, but I could still see the scariness in his face. He always scowled, so hard it made lines in his forehead and beside his frown. When his jaw tensed, I thought, oh my God, his bones are sharp. His cheek and jaw protruded like butcher knives on the underside of meat.

I frowned. "You're so ugly," I told him. "You're the ugliest man in the world."

His gray eyes burned as he barked, "Get against the wall, now. Get."

But I didn't move. I wanted the bullet. He growled, picked up my cuffs, and slammed them to the wall, above my head. My nose squished against cold white paint and fed my breath back to me.

"Ser, please. I said I'll give them back. Please."

His warmth lapsed at my back like a bonfire. "Poor little bird, I haven't even finished my search." The tip of his baton trailed along my calf, up my thigh. I felt a tickle of air as he lifted my skirt. "Might be she's hiding something else."

"No, I'm not. I swear I gave you—"

A full body shudder muted me. Officer Clegane's baton pressed against the crotch of my panties.

"Nothing stuffed in your pretty little cunt?" he rasped, his breath hot against my ear.


That was filthy. That was highly inappropriate. Almost as inappropriate as him taking a step forward, pressing himself against my back. His privates dug into my spine. I squirmed, but he held both my hands tightly in one of his.

"How should I believe you?" he roughly asked.

"I'm a maiden," I whispered, thighs trembling. "Nothing goes in there."

Nothing but Uncle's fingers. And the handle of my hairbrush, when I'm feeling really naughty. I felt a different type of naughty when Officer Clegane thrust his hand up my shirt, beneath the waistband of my bra. "And what about here?" he asked. He squeezed my boob and I winced.

"Nothing, Ser. I promise."

That didn't stop him from pinching my nipple. From putting his mouth to my ear, sucking it in, biting. "A little maiden bird," he breathed. "I'll drop those charges, on one condition."

He ground against my back and groaned like a landslide. I knew his condition. It was Uncle's condition too. It was another kind of naughty, naughty for grown men. I could steal and get my nose pierced, but then I had to trade something precious.

I looked up at Officer Clegane. I put on my poutiest lips and widest dolly eyes.

"I'll do whatever you say, Ser. If it pleases you."

Above and beyond his shoulder, a security camera winked red. When I looked he looked too. He grunted and released me so I crumpled to the floor.

“Stay here girlie. When I come back, we’ll have our fun.”

I thought about dying for five long minutes, interspersed with images of what Officer Clegane would look like down there, and if he was as big as he felt, wouldn’t he kill me? Was he going to molest me? Rape me? Ask for a blowjob? I didn’t like any of the options. Maybe it wasn’t too late for a bullet.

A muted whirring sounded out from the corner. The camera—it was moving.

Moving to face the wall.

My tummy flipped, and I thought I might see my sorbet again.

Officer Clegane came back inside, and hot, metallic bile rushed up my throat.

Officer Clegane was bigger when I was on the ground. Monumental, the way he blotted out the fluorescent light overhead, so that it spilled over his bulky silhouette. It turned him into a muscular darkness, except for the sneaky rays of light skirted over his front side.

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. It made his bulge known. Like a jungle snake, slithering down the tight leg of his pants.

“Here, little bird,” he called, gruff. He kicked out a chair and slammed his boot on top of it. “Lick.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t know what this was. A bootjob? Is that even a thing? Even so, gross. But Officer Clegane let out a snarl like an angry dog and snared my braids at the scalp. He dragged me forward until my lips met glossy black leather.

He aimed a wad of spit directly onto his toe.

“Lick like you mean it, girl. Or else.”

I didn’t start licking right away. I looked up, dished out my doll eyes again.

“Will you kill me?”

The bad side of his lips twitched up. He shoved my head down, so my nose mashed uncomfortably in his yellow laces. “Might be. If you keep acting up. Better that you act like a repentant girl instead. I’ll end you, but only after you finish me off. Now lick.”

Fine, I did. I opened up and ran my tongue all over his boot, pretending it was a make out session instead. Pretending that I didn’t have to taste Officer Clegane’s spit and that maybe Harry had finally come to his senses. I pretended I had gotten him into my bedroom. I pretended I could show him what I practiced with Uncle all those years.

I was crying pretty hard. By the time Officer Clegane yanked me back up, he was nothing but a black and blue blur. A flash of tan flesh came down. It disappeared at his crotch.

It reappeared with something more.

Something red.

I tried to swallow but my mouth stuck together, dry. Officer Clegane’s boot came down. He advanced, stroking himself. He stroked a foot long demon, the biggest, ugliest boner I’d ever seen. More than twice as big as Uncle.

My lips didn’t part when he pressed the tip to them. He smelled sour, or musky, like the gorillas at the zoo. “What did I tell you, pretty bird?” He picked up half my face in his fuzzy ape paw. “I’ll fuck your mouth clean through to your skull. And I don’t have any issues choking you purple. I’ll entertain your little death wish, but maybe I’ll call your uncle first. Tell him what a bad girl you’ve been.”

“No,” I said, and he forced his thumb into my mouth.

“No, what?

He clamped down on my jaw, his thumb hooked over my lower teeth. “I’m good,” I said, muffled, as drool spilled down my chin.

“Oh, she’s a good little bird. Why don’t you suck me off then? That’s what a good girl would do.”

I don’t why but I started sucking his thumb. Just because I was really scared and my heart was all fluttery and a little pee had soaked into my panties. They squished uncomfortably between my thighs. I wanted to be good, I just let everyone down all the time. Like I wasn’t good enough for anyone. Like it didn’t matter how nicely I pretended to like Uncle’s kisses, he always told me to do better, and that I was nothing like my mom.

I was crying pretty hard when Officer Clegane replaced his thumb with his penis. I tried a new game where I pretended they were the same. That was a baby and I just needed some comfort, who cared how big or stinky his boner was. It stretched my lips open and I sucked but also lapped my tongue over his salty-tasting tip. Because I was a baby I didn’t care about drool. It poured down his shaft and I chased it with my tongue. He liked that. He said, “That’s it, little bird. Lick that cock. Here.”

He pulled his balls out of his pants. Dark, wiry hair covered them. They kinda smelled like cheese. Officer Clegane guided my head to them, told me, “Suck.”

This part was gross. I wanted to puke. Instead I tried really not to breathe through my nose but also swallow one giant ball at a time. I got pretty lightheaded. I just let Officer Clegane control me by my braids. He jerked me back to his cock, so I kept my tongue out, lips spread, and let him do what he liked. His breath got thunderous as he bucked against my face.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned. “Such a pretty little cocksucker. I think I want more. I think I want that maiden cunt of yours.”

I shook my head, which freed his cock. “No,” I gasped, but he was already yanking me up by the handcuffs. He tossed me over the table belly down, on my tiptoes with my butt in the air. I blame the cold—I started peeing. It trickled down my legs as Officer Clegane beat his slobbery cock behind me, grinning with a terrible disfigured grin.

“Looks like that rich uncle of yours didn’t potty train his little girl.” He grabbed my buttcheeks from beneath my skirt, pried them apart, so the cold air seeped directly onto my flower. His cock pressed against my petals. He practiced fucking them. “A maiden, is it? You never put out for your little boyfriend?”

“I don’t—I don’t have one,” I confessed, eyes downcast. As if this monster could make my night any worse! Gods! I’m such a loser. A loser Seven-lover. That’s why I whispered, “And I’m saving myself for marriage.”

That made Officer Clegane laugh his nasty laugh. He lined his tip up at my entrance, and he forced himself inside me. Just a few inches, because after that, he throbbed super hard, and groaned. “Fuck’s sake. Such a tight cunt. The little bird isn’t a liar after all.”

He humped me and made terrible grunts and my flower burned. He stabbed through way too far and I cried out, “No, oh my Gods, stop!”

“Quiet,” he barked. He fell over me on his elbows, so that his belly pressed against my back, and his hair dangled at my cheek. “Good little birds stay quiet.”

I didn’t care about good. I didn’t care about little secrets. This was a nightmare. I would lose no matter what. I lost my daddy and I lost everything, down to my maidenhead. I wanted to lose my life next. “Just kill me already,” I begged. My cheek slip-slided across the table as Officer Clegane thrust, slick with tears and snot. I had never been more disgusting in my life.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he rasped. “A pretty little girl with her pretty little life, spoiled rotten by her banker daddy. She has it so hard. When shopping gets tired she starts to steal, and she does a piss poor job of it. You were begging to be caught, little bird. You asked for this.”

“You’re awful,” I sobbed.

“I’m honest,” Officer Clegane barked back.

“No!” I cried, but he didn’t relent. He pounded me faster. His sweat dripped onto my head. “My uncle isn’t my daddy. My daddy was a good man. And my uncle never—” I winced as Officer Clegane shot through to my end, so painful my legs went slack. “My uncle never fucked me,” I said in a whisper. “He only ever uses his hand.”

I locked eyes with Officer Clegane as his cock thrashed wildly inside of me. I hated his eyes the most probably. So full of anger, something worse than anger. Maybe he was as scared as I was. We were both criminals now.

He was quiet as he pulled out his cock, blood streaked, and zipped it back up in his pants. He fixed my undies so they lay back against my flower. He smoothed out my skirt. He slid an arm under my waist, and shifted me into a chair. He put his come in me. I felt it slosh into my already wet undies. I didn’t know what would happen if I got pregnant. Uncle might kill the baby. I would probably like that, but better that Uncle doesn’t find out. Maybe I’d get some moon tea from Randa. Yeah, that would work.

“How did you get here?” Officer Clegane asked, oddly gentle. He scooped up the stuff I stole and crammed it back into my purse. He dropped it into my lap. “Answer me, girl.”

“Bike,” I peeped. My socks were damp and slightly yellow. I wanted to cry again.

Officer Clegane fell to his knees in front of me. He unlocked the cuffs. My wrists were raw and red. He rubbed them with his thumbs and I winced.

“Easy,” he grunted. “Easy. Do you have something to cover this up?”

“I have cardigans at home. And makeup.”

“Good. Are you going to tell your uncle?”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Not if you stay quiet.”

“You promised,” I cried, as a fresh sob overtook me. I covered my ugly face with my hands. My mascara was for sure ruined. “You promised you’d do it after you finished. I don’t want to be alive anymore. I just want to be dead. I want to be gone forever.”

I hated being a doll. Smiling on the outside, hollow on the inside. My heart had been empty since I lost Daddy. I was jealous of him. I wanted the Gods to return me, even if I hated them too. I hated the Stranger the most. Take me was my only prayer these days.

They never listened.

“Come,” Officer Clegane said. He had extended a hand. His hairy knuckles read PURE. “I’ll get you home. We won’t say a word of it to your uncle.”

I assumed we’d take a cop car, but Officer Clegane took me out to a dinged-up truck. I needed a hand getting into the passenger seat. We drove to the bike rack, and he threw it into the bed. He kept the windows rolled down on the way home. It was a balmy spring night. It was going to be summer soon, again. I hoped. I remember summer the best. The long summer happened when I was a girl, camping in the Wolfswood with Daddy, going to the fair, barbecuing, boating on the lake. I spent winter with Uncle and hated every minute.

We drove most of the way in silence. Officer Clegane lit up at a stoplight and smoked. He knew where my neighborhood was. He rolled to a stop three blocks away, in the shadowy trees of Redfort Park. My legs shook from how badly I wanted to be out of there, but he hadn’t unlocked the doors.

He put a hand on my thigh. A tattoo of a dagger ran up his arm. On his wrist, he wore a thick golden watch. “How often does your uncle touch you?”

“Please,” I begged. “I don’t want to talk about him. Just let me go.”

“Answer me first.”

His fingers dug in deep enough to make me look fat. Fresh tears filled my eyes.

“I don’t know, like, once or twice a month. More, if I’ve been bad. Please don’t tell him I told you. I really will keep my mouth shut. I promise. I’ll be good.”

I didn’t know what I was saying. The truth, I guess, even though Uncle taught me the value of lying, of faking that things are fine and that life was perfect. I wasn’t perfect. My whole body hurt, especially my arms and scalp and flower. I couldn’t believe I was confessing to this terrible man. I shouldn’t have said what I said in the first place. I just thought I’d be gone by now. I thought he would eliminate me like he promised.

Instead he exhaled smoke directly in my face. “You are good,” he softly rasped. “Now fly away, little bird. I’m tired of your peeping.”

The locks shot up. I scrambled out to get my bike. I wasn’t a little jailbird—he let me free.

As I mounted, I stole one look back.

Officer Clegane’s face shone in his rearview mirror. It looked wet.