Prison Throne Read Online Free PDF

script you wrote for the church play next month. I’m sure she’d be interested.”
    Nadine’s suggestion was actually code for, “Get up out of our faces so me and my holy friends can drink a vat of wine as Jesus did.”
    And as always, the teenagers disappeared upstairs.
     
    ****
     
    The dark closet was awfully tiny and the doorknob stabbing into Snow’s coccyx was extremely annoying. Not to mention, she could smell Morris’s smelly tennis shoes as he kissed her neck and kneaded her breasts like balls of dough.
    It wasn’t rape. But it didn’t feel good either. He acted this way every time his mother suggested they go upstairs so they could be alone. This activity was one of the reasons she despised visiting.
                  As his slippery tongue ran along the side of her neck and dipped into her ear canal, she wanted to scream. His spit clogged up her ear and made it hard to hear on the left side.
    Snow hated how he felt against her body. Against her skin. Most of all, she hated how his stiff penis poked at her belly as he accosted her with promises to fuck her so well.
    She wasn’t worried about things going too far in the sexual department though. Both of them were virgins and neither was brave enough to go against God’s will. They just chose to shame him instead by humping in the darkness, hoping he couldn’t see their filthy ways.
    “Your titties feel so good,” Morris said breathing heavily against her clavicle. “I’m gonna fuck you so well.”
                  “Okay,” she said, being a teenager of few words.
                  “You like how it feels, Snow? You want me to fuck you so well?”
                  “Yes.”
                  He gripped both of her large breasts at the same time and squeezed as if he were preparing to pop huge pimples. “You gonna be my wife, Snow. Wait, you’ll see. We will be together for the rest of our lives.”
                  Stop the fucking presses!
    Hearing that madness caused her heart to tap in her chest and pump into overdrive. She thought about the three days a week she went to church with her parents that didn’t include Sunday. She thought about Morris’s weird way of squeezing her that caused her stomach to swirl. Most of all, she thought about his hanging jaw that even at the moment rubbed against her clavicle and tickled. She did not want this for her life. She did not want any of it.
                  So she shoved him into his hanging clothes and walked out of the closet. Considering how grossed out she was, it was probably appropriate to run but everything Snow did was dry. She was so boring that even in the dramatic situation, she moved at a snail’s pace down the stairs.
                  When she made it to the bottom, she stopped. From where she stood, she saw her parents swallowing crystal glasses of red wine as they chuckled like beefy sailors at sea.
    A vat of Merlot, almost empty, sat next to them.
    Stupid mothafuckas , she thought.
    If only she were brave enough to say it out loud.
                  She was still staring at them until Lamont turned his head, looked at Snow and covered his mouth. Immediately he rushed toward her as if she were an open quarterback with the ball on a football field.
    When he was upon her, he slammed down her shirt and glared.
    In her haste, Snow had forgotten to adjust her clothing after leaving the closet and her daddy had seen it all. Before the correction, her shirt and bra sat on the top of her breasts, which forced her boobies downward and to swing like pendulums on a clock.
    Things were a blur for Snow after that moment. The embarrassment she felt was so heavy that although she could hear her parents’ muffled voices, she didn’t understand a word they were saying.
    She witnessed Maureen grab the keys from the dining room table and yank her purse off of the chair’s arm.
    That quickly, Snow was