Short story about father/daughter abuse. Requesting feedback please! |
This is a draft that I am trying to finish. If you read this, please try to give feedback. I need to know what does NOT work in this piece. Thank you! Her daddy always told her she was worthless, so she believed it. Daddy knew everything. He had an answer to every stupid question she could think of. Babies come from a factory downtown, unicorns were hunted to extinction, and she caught a nasty case of the measles when she was seven because Jesus could see what she'd done. Daddy had known that she wasn't good enough for Tom Hunter even before he came to pick her up at seven o'clock on Saturday a week after she turned sixteen. She had tried not to believe him this one time, maybe once Daddy could be wrong. But he was right, and it didn't take Tom Hunter long to realize it either. No one was very surprised when she started coming to school in clunky sunglasses and long-sleeved shirts even though it was the middle of August. No one said anything, and Daddy knew why. No one said anything because everyone else knew what he knew, that she had never been good enough for Tom Hunter. When her mother left late on a Friday night with a suitcase and a scowl, she didn't ask for a reason. But Daddy told her anyway. He started telling her a lot of things that she didn't ask about. He told her she was too skinny. He told her that she looked like a damn dyke with that haircut. No boy would ever come take her off his hands if she didn't start caring more about her appearance. He said that her mother had been as stupid as she was, that her mother had been lucky to have him, that she was a dumb dirty twat for leaving like she did. He told her that she needed to find somewhere else to stay for the night because his girlfriend was stopping by and he didn't want any distractions. She stopped going to school when she turned seventeen. She did a fairly good job of intercepting concerned phone calls from teachers for the first two weeks, but eventually Daddy found out. He said that he knew she'd never make it through all the way. He knew she was too dumb and lazy to finish anything. And it wasn't long after that he found the bag of pot and bottle of Jack in her sock drawer. He pocketed them both and told her that if she wanted to be a crack whore, she could do it on the streets. She meant to apologize for it, apologize for everything, but he grabbed her by the shirt and threw her out the door before she could say anything. She dusted herself off and wondered if he knew she was sorry. She wondered if he knew she loved him anyway. She wondered if Daddy really knew anything at all. |