The Five Times Miranda Priestly Cried (1/5)
Title: The Five Times Miranda Priestly Cried
Pairing: Andy/Miranda, Miranda/Other, Andy/Emily
Rating: R (for mentions of sexual abuse and incest)
Warning: This story touches briefly on sexual abuse and incest in this segment, so if that is a trigger for you or what not, don't read.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: There have been few times in the life of Miranda Priestly where she has cried out of hurt. Despite the Ice Queen image, she's been hurt plenty.
A/N: Sorry this is such a short chapter, but I don't have much written down yet.
A/N 2: COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!
"Papa, no! Please! No!" Miriam screamed as her father dragged her into his bedroom. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her grandmother was just standing there. Silence. No pleas for peace. Nothing. Nothing at all. This was the woman that swore to protect her, and here she was. Nothing.
"Gevald, bobeshi!" Miriam cried out in Yiddish to her grandmother. Nothing. Once again, nothing. Salty tears covered her face in a mask of madness as a loud sound came. The door had been shut.
"No! No!" she was thrown on the floor, pounding on the thick wooden door. She knew no one could hear her, but she hoped, she longed for someone to just come and save her.
"Mama, please. Come save me." she whispered as she heard the distant clang of a belt being unbuckled behind her. Hands. Hands were on her waist now. Cold, rough, uncaring. Her father. He was pulling her back, trying to throw her on the bed.
She tried to get away with all of her might. Arms and legs flailing in the struggle, long, golden tresses of hair strewn about. He was just too strong. He had gotten her down. She felt so miniscule, so weak.
"Please, Papa," tears glistened in her sapphire eyes "don't do this."
He was pushing her back on to the small bed in the middle of the room. Miriam couldn't fight anymore. It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it at all.
She looked outside of the window as he hitched her long, black skirt up, "Mama--" she started before he put his dirty hand over her mouth to silence her.
"Hush! Can you not see your mama is not around? She is gone, Miriam. Do not cry, do you hear me?" he almost yelled "Princhek's do not whine."
The tears in her eyes started once more. He was unbuttoning her shirt, slipping his hands underneath her bra. The feeling of his cracked hands running over her porcelain skin, her soft breasts made her sick.
She eyed the golden-yellow mezuzah hanging on the doorframe, trying to take her mind off of what evil was happening to her, but it just made her focus more, "If there was a god, why wasn't he helping right now? Why wasn't her father being punished for what he was doing? How could he get away with this? She was good. She went to temple on a regular basis, she kept kosher, she stayed away from boys, covered her body modestly. Why was god punishing her if she had followed all that he told her to do? No. She wasn't being saved because there wasn't a god." Miriam was brought out of her thoughts as she felt a sharp, uncomfortable feeling.
The pressure on her body increased. She wasn't pure anymore. She had never been touched by another man before now. With the sound of him grunting and moaning above her, she turned her head away and looked up at the clouds, keeping silent.
As soon as it started, it was over. The tears that Miriam had never wiped away were now dry, making her face feel tight like leather. He was now getting dressed and she was still lying still on the bed. Curled up in a tight ball on her side. All that remained of her was a shell. An empty shell without feeling, a small throbbing in between her legs, and a small stream of blood on her inner thigh.
Without warning he kissed her. His stale wine-tasting tongue probing her mouth. And then he looked back at her.
"You are Papa's beautiful girl," he said with a thick accented, German tongue "especially when you do as you are told."
"Ikh hob dikh lib, my sweet Miriam." his eyes insanely glistened.
"You don't love me, Papa." she thought.
To Be Continued... and... your thoughts?
Pairing: Andy/Miranda, Miranda/Other, Andy/Emily
Rating: R (for mentions of sexual abuse and incest)
Warning: This story touches briefly on sexual abuse and incest in this segment, so if that is a trigger for you or what not, don't read.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: There have been few times in the life of Miranda Priestly where she has cried out of hurt. Despite the Ice Queen image, she's been hurt plenty.
A/N: Sorry this is such a short chapter, but I don't have much written down yet.
A/N 2: COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!
"Papa, no! Please! No!" Miriam screamed as her father dragged her into his bedroom. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her grandmother was just standing there. Silence. No pleas for peace. Nothing. Nothing at all. This was the woman that swore to protect her, and here she was. Nothing.
"Gevald, bobeshi!" Miriam cried out in Yiddish to her grandmother. Nothing. Once again, nothing. Salty tears covered her face in a mask of madness as a loud sound came. The door had been shut.
"No! No!" she was thrown on the floor, pounding on the thick wooden door. She knew no one could hear her, but she hoped, she longed for someone to just come and save her.
"Mama, please. Come save me." she whispered as she heard the distant clang of a belt being unbuckled behind her. Hands. Hands were on her waist now. Cold, rough, uncaring. Her father. He was pulling her back, trying to throw her on the bed.
She tried to get away with all of her might. Arms and legs flailing in the struggle, long, golden tresses of hair strewn about. He was just too strong. He had gotten her down. She felt so miniscule, so weak.
"Please, Papa," tears glistened in her sapphire eyes "don't do this."
He was pushing her back on to the small bed in the middle of the room. Miriam couldn't fight anymore. It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it at all.
She looked outside of the window as he hitched her long, black skirt up, "Mama--" she started before he put his dirty hand over her mouth to silence her.
"Hush! Can you not see your mama is not around? She is gone, Miriam. Do not cry, do you hear me?" he almost yelled "Princhek's do not whine."
The tears in her eyes started once more. He was unbuttoning her shirt, slipping his hands underneath her bra. The feeling of his cracked hands running over her porcelain skin, her soft breasts made her sick.
She eyed the golden-yellow mezuzah hanging on the doorframe, trying to take her mind off of what evil was happening to her, but it just made her focus more, "If there was a god, why wasn't he helping right now? Why wasn't her father being punished for what he was doing? How could he get away with this? She was good. She went to temple on a regular basis, she kept kosher, she stayed away from boys, covered her body modestly. Why was god punishing her if she had followed all that he told her to do? No. She wasn't being saved because there wasn't a god." Miriam was brought out of her thoughts as she felt a sharp, uncomfortable feeling.
The pressure on her body increased. She wasn't pure anymore. She had never been touched by another man before now. With the sound of him grunting and moaning above her, she turned her head away and looked up at the clouds, keeping silent.
As soon as it started, it was over. The tears that Miriam had never wiped away were now dry, making her face feel tight like leather. He was now getting dressed and she was still lying still on the bed. Curled up in a tight ball on her side. All that remained of her was a shell. An empty shell without feeling, a small throbbing in between her legs, and a small stream of blood on her inner thigh.
Without warning he kissed her. His stale wine-tasting tongue probing her mouth. And then he looked back at her.
"You are Papa's beautiful girl," he said with a thick accented, German tongue "especially when you do as you are told."
"Ikh hob dikh lib, my sweet Miriam." his eyes insanely glistened.
"You don't love me, Papa." she thought.
To Be Continued... and... your thoughts?