I nearly fell down to the floor but Dad caught me.He held onto me and whispered, “Are you okay? Do you need a treatment?”I stood up again and shoo... my head no, “Not at the moment. I just tripped.” I felt a weird yet familiar sensation in the pit of my stomach and added, “Maybe later.”When I get those weird sensations sometimes they pass and sometimes they don’t and they get worse and I need an injection of my Dad’s semen in my body.“Treatment?” asked Bree.She had heard that? I had hoped I was. A fat roach (there seemed to be no other kind in this dirty apartment) skittered across the dark linoleum underneath the table. Its claws made a disgusting clittering sound.Still no ring.The flier had gone blowing across the street yesterday. On a whim, he snagged it as he was trudging home from his dead end job at the Holiday. He read it, and came to a standstill on the leaf-littered sidewalk.It was as though a bright solar flare had gone off in his brain. This could be the answer to all his. More

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