Read Online A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing by Eimear McBride - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eimear McBride
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silent want of me. Know. I know that, see that, know it now. How strange my baptise renders me. His want me. Fuck me if he could and I and I and I and I. I have that. And I do not. Do not need. Have something else I need to do. There’ll others. Some others. Some day more who want me I want to fuck them too. Thanks uncle for sage introduce. I left him dripping in the door. Ha. He did not get me after all.
Oh but he did. I’m lying. I am not I am. By the cold range in my white drip shirt. Caught me. Went about me tooth and claw that I wanted. Felt within the time has come. No Christ here on the kitchen floor. Against the back of the kitchen chair. Pull my skirt down by ankles. Shed. And it was so quiet all around that I could hear him open me. Graze me opening my legs. Take me in. And that dark body unwashed night and thick pyjama’s smell of week worn. Someone else’s house and their daughter taken over. Under his hands. Full of sweat and passages of skin where he has touched his wife now over me. Her shreds of her. And hard he is I think. For what I know. That’s a thrill of me. That I am. Feeling running rivers over me. Running falls. I’m splashing falling into it. His cheek on my head. His dark hair. That I am warm in this. Full up. True. Here we are. Here we are. We eventually are here. Go let myself go down in this. He has a mouth of me. His hard hands. Touching and pulling me under the water. Alright now? Yes. He ram that. Oh God. It hurts me take it out. It. My heart thump on top of him and feel it shaking through his back. No. Take me. Take me down under. He is goding goding goding. In his breath. Like a great surprise has taken place. My legs and thighs and ankles. He will have them all of me in this. Done and done to. Doing. I’ll do all of this. Dance with the pain of it and I would do later for many bleeding days. Sting and itch. Not from disease. From new stretched and snapped skin. Up inside that will not fit in time. Expand and let him lurch there. I want. And this is what it’s like after all. After all I’ve heard. It hurts me. And kissing choking me. Almost too much of my body taken up. The air squeezed out. The air pushed to the edge. Coming out my eyes. My ears. Too much. Where is the room for. Too much so much. It. Is too much then. I’m taken over buckled onto him. Light and pulled up off the ground his. Fastened stung. Being small then suddenly just for him. I cannot cannot take this. Pain. Scratch him. Pain of it. Keep clawing at his skin. He does not. Does not know this. He is digging into me and me to him. He’s. Push it home as far up. In that tight spot. He is. He is. I will feel it bruising pains. And breathing deafing out my ears. My back against the chair wood. Rubbing to the bone. I. Feel him filled with. Now. He filled with. My pain. He is coming. Off inside me. I think and I think of painting houses. Streets with. Painting the town red. I must be almost I am dying when he does it. With the pain. Suffocating. And his cheek. My nail my nail. That’s it. I’ve done to him. What’s done in me. Jesus Christ he says. His lungs a breeze. His catch up. Breath up. Fresh. Like it’s new to him. Still jostle in me. See my knees up at his waist. A sight. Alright? Come back to earth with lungs inflated. Come home now. He reach between us and pulls it down out of me now. Come down I think. Feel no more pain. I am dripping water, him, out on my thigh. And clicks my brain. As though the house moved. Who turned the sounds back on? I feel that daylight in the window. It’s caught me. Rack. It’s blanching me out. Bathe it. My hand unseals his cut. My face my Jesus. Fucking face. What have you done? Jesus. He put me down. Are my feet? I see it. My nails duggened in. Peel the skin off. He’s bleeding near the bone. Quick. Put his thing back in. Men’s trousers. Strange how it works when I was little always wanting to pee standing. Oh. I must be. I think I’m filled with blood. I’m wet and
Oh but he did. I’m lying. I am not I am. By the cold range in my white drip shirt. Caught me. Went about me tooth and claw that I wanted. Felt within the time has come. No Christ here on the kitchen floor. Against the back of the kitchen chair. Pull my skirt down by ankles. Shed. And it was so quiet all around that I could hear him open me. Graze me opening my legs. Take me in. And that dark body unwashed night and thick pyjama’s smell of week worn. Someone else’s house and their daughter taken over. Under his hands. Full of sweat and passages of skin where he has touched his wife now over me. Her shreds of her. And hard he is I think. For what I know. That’s a thrill of me. That I am. Feeling running rivers over me. Running falls. I’m splashing falling into it. His cheek on my head. His dark hair. That I am warm in this. Full up. True. Here we are. Here we are. We eventually are here. Go let myself go down in this. He has a mouth of me. His hard hands. Touching and pulling me under the water. Alright now? Yes. He ram that. Oh God. It hurts me take it out. It. My heart thump on top of him and feel it shaking through his back. No. Take me. Take me down under. He is goding goding goding. In his breath. Like a great surprise has taken place. My legs and thighs and ankles. He will have them all of me in this. Done and done to. Doing. I’ll do all of this. Dance with the pain of it and I would do later for many bleeding days. Sting and itch. Not from disease. From new stretched and snapped skin. Up inside that will not fit in time. Expand and let him lurch there. I want. And this is what it’s like after all. After all I’ve heard. It hurts me. And kissing choking me. Almost too much of my body taken up. The air squeezed out. The air pushed to the edge. Coming out my eyes. My ears. Too much. Where is the room for. Too much so much. It. Is too much then. I’m taken over buckled onto him. Light and pulled up off the ground his. Fastened stung. Being small then suddenly just for him. I cannot cannot take this. Pain. Scratch him. Pain of it. Keep clawing at his skin. He does not. Does not know this. He is digging into me and me to him. He’s. Push it home as far up. In that tight spot. He is. He is. I will feel it bruising pains. And breathing deafing out my ears. My back against the chair wood. Rubbing to the bone. I. Feel him filled with. Now. He filled with. My pain. He is coming. Off inside me. I think and I think of painting houses. Streets with. Painting the town red. I must be almost I am dying when he does it. With the pain. Suffocating. And his cheek. My nail my nail. That’s it. I’ve done to him. What’s done in me. Jesus Christ he says. His lungs a breeze. His catch up. Breath up. Fresh. Like it’s new to him. Still jostle in me. See my knees up at his waist. A sight. Alright? Come back to earth with lungs inflated. Come home now. He reach between us and pulls it down out of me now. Come down I think. Feel no more pain. I am dripping water, him, out on my thigh. And clicks my brain. As though the house moved. Who turned the sounds back on? I feel that daylight in the window. It’s caught me. Rack. It’s blanching me out. Bathe it. My hand unseals his cut. My face my Jesus. Fucking face. What have you done? Jesus. He put me down. Are my feet? I see it. My nails duggened in. Peel the skin off. He’s bleeding near the bone. Quick. Put his thing back in. Men’s trousers. Strange how it works when I was little always wanting to pee standing. Oh. I must be. I think I’m filled with blood. I’m wet and
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