It was one of those dreams. I recognized it clearly but that didn’t stop me from being scared. His big hands pulled me through the kitchen, the parlor, and then we were in his room. Like all other nightmares I knew what was bound to follow. “Take off your clothes” he said. His voice was coarse, it made me shiver knowing the kind of power he had over me.
“Daddy please, I’m your daughter. I’m still a virgin” my tears threatened to fall. Who had my father become? Where was the man who showed me love and made me feel the world was roses and sunshine.
“Who is your father? My friend take off your clothes!” I saw his belt drop, and then I felt it on my body. I smelt the leather, and through each pain, I saw my father, the man who was meant to defend me, to protect me; that very man destroyed me as he drove his member through me.
In that moment, I screamed. I didn’t want to but it hurt, through my dreams, through my screams and when I awoke, I had cried much to my fill.
That was all past now. Papa was long dead. All that was left were the memories he had left behind to haunt me. “I am stronger, I am better, I have moved on!” I chanted as I stood to clean myself up.
But I wasn’t. And that simple thought brought me to my knees in tears. I cried! For my innocence, I cried for my broken heart, I cried for the very thought that I couldn’t share this with anyone, that I have had to hold on to this burden this long. And then I hated him all over again.
“You will never find peace!” I wailed.
“Hell will burn you, and heaven will reject you! God will punish you father. He won’t let you off so easily!” I frantically searched the dark for anything to throw at what I wished were him. I found my phone in no time and threw it at the wall. It broke, and that almost satisfied me. Seeking for even greater peace, I pulled the lamp and threw it blindly across the room. Hearing its crash filled me with adrenaline; and like a mad woman possessed by rage I dashed for my shoes. I pulled each one from the rack and threw it just about anywhere.
I wanted to hurt him. I needed him to feel my pain, taste my bitterness, and drink from my darkness. I wanted vengeance, I yearned for it, desperately, lustfully. I wished I had done this all those years ago. But alas, I couldn’t for my father was stronger than me. I was only ten, how could he?! What sort of person could be so heartless?!
I panted, took a deep breath, and was about to launch the entire rack to the mirror when my bedside alarm shrieked painfully, as if crying for my sanity to return. In shock, I dropped the rack and it made contact with my right foot. “For Pete’s sake!”
My frustration returned. And in resignation I moved it out of my path and found my way to the kitchen. A glass of whiskey could do me some good.
Who wants more?!!!! Anticipate Lethal Series, 2018!!!!!!!!!