Heather s Rape
Heather was good looking; she always had been. She was twenty-two and life hadn’t etched itself on her face yet. Her hair was a grimy bird’s nest, but a shower would prove her to have long, blonde hair and a pretty face. Her body was still taut and shapely, except for a small portion on her belly under a C-section scar. She had given up the baby, and her one relief in life was that it would have better circumstances than she. She made her way through streets lit like a noir film and...