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Out on August 15, 2012 |
SAVE THE LIFE OF A YOUNG WOMAN - Link this post to any place young women go on the Internet who think Fifty Shades of Grey is a romance, that the exact type of guy we warn young women to run from is somehow now cool, exciting, and will change if you just love and understand him. The kind of man Christian Grey is, a serial sex predator, will get you abused, stalked, and killed. Women every day are filing restraining orders against this kind of controlling obsessive sadistic psychopath and a good many of them find themselves with gas thrown at them and set on fire, disappearing down mine shafts, and shot dead on the courthouse steps. Fifty Shades of Grey is one of the most dangerous pieces of fiction to get into the hands of young women that I have even seen. Make sure they read the story below to get the real ending of Fifty Shades of Grey which would never have made it to a trilogy if it were anywhere close to the truth. - Criminal Profiler Pat Brown
When Christian Killed Ana
Christian gazes down at me from above, my hands tied behind my head
to the bed rail with that grey tie of his, my ankles bound with rope to
the side rails at the foot. His expression is unreadable but as my eyes
shift from his face to his chest and then to those jeans of his hanging
deliciously off his hips, my inner goddess jumps for joy; heat rushes
down there and I squirm desperately as I wait for Christian to touch me.
Oh, shit, he is so hot.
He runs his hands through that slightly tousled hair of his.
"I'm bored with you, Ana," he says quietly.
I
am stunned. How can he be bored with me? I have done everything he
wanted, minus a few items I put a line through on the contract.
"But
we have only been together a couple of months, Sir!" I had thought I
was different then the train of other women he had been through. "I
thought I was special."
Christian actually laughs.
"Special? What would you think I would find so special about you?" He
admonishes me. "You are a mildly attractive run-of-the-mill college girl
with nothing particularly alluring or interesting about you."
Tears flood my eyes. "But, Sir, you said I was special, different, that you had never had vanilla sex or slept the night with anyone but me!"
"And
you believed me, you little fool." He smirks. "Why don't you bite your
lower lip again? You really think that drives me mad for you, don't
you? It doesn't do anything but make me hate you." He reaches out out
with both hands and grabs my nipples, twisting them cruelly. I
yelp with pain.
Christian looks at me with disdain.
"You don't think I have told each one of my girls how adorable they are?
Don't you realize I told every one the same stupid things that I told
you? You are all so easy to dupe." He sighs. "All of you who think you are going to be the one. You are
going to change me. From what? From myself? I like myself just the way I
am." He leans in and snickers. "Do you know, my dear Anastasia, that I
was never abused as a child? Not once. But, oh, how easy it was to make
you feel so sorry for me."
My inner goddess curls up
into a ball. I feel sweat break out on my forehead. Panic starts rising
in my chest. I look into the eyes of Christian Grey and see nothing
there at all, nothing. Everything I thought he might have been has
vanished and I realize I have been living in a dream. Reality hits. I am
tied up, hand and foot, alone with a sadistic psychopath, a snake, a
demon.
Christian's face appears inches away from mine
behind my wall of tears. "You know all those things that weren't in the
contract? Well, today you get to do them all." He smiles, so coldly, so
evilly. "I am going to use you as my toilet, I am going to put my fist
up your ass, I am going to whip you until your body is covered with
marks and listen to you scream until you have no voice left to scream
with."
He leers at me and suddenly he is holding a
razor sharp knife against my cheek. I feel searing pain and he pulls
the blade back, red with my blood, oh god, my blood, my blood, and he
licks it off with that tongue that I used to adore.
"I am going to cut that annoying bottom lip off of you."
I
start screaming uncontrollably and the hell begins. I am just a young
girl and I thought I had my whole life ahead of me. I now know that I
have never known true love nor had anyone actually make love to
me.Why I ever thought I should be treated in such a demeaning and ugly
manner, I do not know. All I know is that now I have no choice; then I
did. I should have run; I should never have trusted a stranger, a
stalker, a sadist who told me he was so taken by me that he would never
hurt me. How stupid I was.
I will not tell you each and
everything that happened that day, the hours of terror, the hours of
humiliation, the hours of unending pain. I will just tell you what I see
from above my body, well, above the pieces of my body. My bottom lip
that I always bit, he cut that off first. It was then I knew for sure I
was going to die. Next he removed my breasts and then he put them to
his chest and danced around with them while I gazed down at the gaping
holes on my own body. I cannot go on and tell you what he did next, but
when I felt the knife cut through my throat, I wished I had valued
myself a whole lot more than I did the day I met that psycho Christian
Grey.
He is now placing my legs and arms in a suitcase.
What is left of my body, a torso is what I believe they call it, is
lying in the center of the bed. I am not tied up anymore, I note
ironically. My head, yes, that is my head with the bottom lip missing
and the eyes gone from their sockets, it is laying where it was tossed,
in the corner of the room, like an old soccer ball with some of the air
missing from it.
Christian finishes packing up
my parts and he takes them from the room. I see him drive off in his
car, and when he returns a bit later, he showers and dresses,
immaculately as always. He leaves again in his fine automobile and I
follow him down the street. He pulls into an upscale pub and glides over
to the marble bar. He seats himself next to a pretty blonde, college
age. She turns her head and I can see she is immediately attracted to
him.
"I'm Christian," he says softly and he takes her hand. She does not pull it back. I cannot watch any more.
Criminal Profiler Pat Brown
June 16, 2012
Harkening back to the writing styles
of the earlier American authors – John Steinbeck, Harper Lee, and Carson
McCullers, "Only the Truth" is a story of soul searching, a
psychological mystery which examines the question, “Whom should one love and
when should one quit doing so?” Billy Ray, a lonely and rather slow, uneducated
African-American man living in the mountains of Arkansas, runs across a mysterious young woman
at the railroad tracks. She asks to go home with him and Billy Ray takes her
with him as she requests. He comes to love this woman, Charlene,
unconditionally. She is the only woman he has ever loved, and life is finally
good for Billy Ray. Then Charlene shoots the neighbor and burns down the
neighbor’s house. His happy life destroyed, a confused and devastated Billy Ray
is at a loss. Is the woman he loves “just a troubled girl” or a psychopathic
killer? Billy Ray sets out on a quest to find the truth, only the truth,
whether it leads him to be able to save Charlene from a death sentence or it
frees him from her spell.