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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1749879-The-Father
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by luna Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1749879
A little girl beaten and raped by her own depressed father
I am eight years old, and scared. All I hear is my sisters even breath. For all is quiet, that is usually when our house is the most dangerous.I sit up silently to look over my sister at the small alarm clock on the bedside table. It said 11:45pm. Danger, danger was only minutes away. The danger I am speaking of is not a storm nor a sound of a train. For it is far, far worse. It is our father. Our father whom is 36 and has a job at a bar. Our father whoms wife died three short years ago. Our father whom has six children, whom wait. For our father is the most dangerous thing in our small house behind the river. I listen to the river silently, but for in the distance is the true sound of terror. It's our father coming up the long driveway to our home. I hear his old pick-up splash through the puddles as it's tires spin through the divits in our drive. I tap my sister who stutters in her sleep. She awakens to look at me, then her eyes are full of terror. For she understood. We both lay still and hold each other in our arms. I tremble as i hear our father begin his rutine. He comes through the side door, takes off his muddy boots, and throws his keys on the counter top. I bit my lip as I hear the sound of the leather belt slipping out of the belt loop of his jeans. I tighten my eyes, I know what is coming, and I know tonight it is my turn. I hear my fathers footsteps as they get closer and closer to my sister and my bedroom door. I open my eyes to see my father swinging open our bedroom door. He shouts my name with furry as he yanks me out of bed with my hair. I hear my sisters scream as she tries to hold on to my arm. I hear the whoose of his belt as it hits her. She screams out as she lets go of me. My father quickly sees his chance and drags me from my room. He throws me onto the floor, and locks my sister in her room. For I am now helpless. I shake as he picks me up by my t-shirt and drags me to the hallway closet. He unlocks a small crawl space and drags me in with him. For on the other side of the crawl space it opens to a room 15ft by 20ft. It's full of horrible things. My father thinks I'm special...and am the prettiest, and should deserve extra attention. So i get the worst out of all my six sisters. He first undresses me, i don't fight, because it's useless. If i do try and fight he...makes it worse for me. After he undresses me. He kisses me, and touches me all over. He grabs me everywhere, and plays with my hair. He'll kiss me sometimes till i struggle against him and he kisses me harder then. He says i will never be loved as much as him, and no one will ever get me. I cry as he uses me as his sex toy. He will rape me til i feel like i can't scream anymore. He smacks me and grabs me in every none visiable place when I'm wearing clothes. I here my other sister awake and bang on the locked door. He tortures me more kissing me and grabbing my breasts. i go to scream as he rapes me hard i don't dare to look down. i go to scream as hesmacks me but quickly his hand covers my mouth. I kick and fight trying to get loose he smiles as he watches me,as i struggled for air. He lets go but kisses me long and hard. he throws me in a corner i feel wind rush right out of my lungs as i hit the wall. As he gets closer and closer and i see my vision going darker and darker.

I am eight years old, and free. All I hear is sirens in the distance. For all is quiet, that is usually when our house was the most dangerous.I start to float free of this terror of this nightmare. It was 12:30am when i was murdered by my own father. Our own father. Our father whom is 36 and is going to jail. Our father whoms own child died this errie morn. Our father whom has five children, who are crying with tears of joy and pain. For our father who has six children who are now free. Free of brusing and pain. Free of lies and loss. For they know that i'm dead but am safe, just like the rest of them.

I may be only eight.And i maybe dead. But if you are in trouble and in pain. Think of me and i will come to protect you through any errie morn. For i am the girl who was murdered in the hall closet.

© Copyright 2011 luna (livelife101 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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