Me and Daddy

         Okay, so I'm not sure how I'm supposed to start this. I've never been so good at writing. Daddy always hated me writing when I was supposed to be cleaning so I could never really learn. I lived in Virginia with my Daddy and Mary-Ann, my Daddy's whore, on a huge farm that Daddy bought with Momma two years before I was born. Momma had died when I was five from cancer but I still remember everything about her. She had massive curly hair like mine only hers was dark brown. Her eyes were as green as peppermint leaves and her laugh was so loud and uplifting that it was contagious. Momma did everything a momma's supposed to do; she kissed my cuts and bruises, read me to sleep, and even got Daddy to make believe with us sometimes. When Momma left us, Daddy was a wreck for what seemed like forever. He soon started to drink bottles of moonshine and whiskey and quickly lost all patience with me. I still remember the first time Daddy beat me; he had just finished working in the field and when coming into the kitchen, he saw that I was standing on a chair, trying to light the stove.

         "What the hell you doing girl!" he yelled, putting me on the ground.

         "I'm tryin' to make dinner, I want mac and cheese," I said, pointing to the box of macaroni that was on the counter.

         "I told you to wait till I was done," he growled at me, moving the chair back to the table.

         "But I'm hungry now!" I whined stomping my feet, already starting my famous temper tantrum. I was soon jumping up and down, yelling about mac and cheese.

         "SHUT UP!" Daddy screamed at me. I stopped mid yell, having never heard Daddy scream like that.

         He roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me into my room, tossing me on my bed. Daddy pressed his hand on the middle of my back and started hitting me, smacking my ass and the back of my legs with such speed and force I could feel them getting redder by the second. I immediately started to screaming bloody murder, calling for my dead Momma and trying to squirm away.

         "I told you to shut up," he growled at me as he pulled my head back by my hair and landed a hard slap on my cheek.

         With that, I tasted the sharp tang of blood in my mouth. Daddy kept hitting me, leaving no spot untouched and keeping the river of tears flowing from my eyes. It felt like hours before he stopped and left the room, locking the door behind him. When I heard the lock click, I went to the door and started banging and scratching, screaming my Daddy's name until I grew tired and slid down the door.

         This event would become a regular thing. Any little thing would trigger Daddy into beating and locking me in my room for the rest of the day. The beatings would start to grow longer and harder each time. The worst one had to be when I first met Mary-Ann. Me and Daddy were in the kitchen, he was cooking breakfast while I was at the table eager for Daddy's pancakes. It had been weeks since the last time he punished me so when Mary-Ann came in the kitchen, wearing my Momma's old Got Milk? T-shirt, I forgot myself. She went and kissed my Daddy's cheek then came over smiling.

         "Well hello there sweetheart and what might your name be?" Mary-Ann asked in a baby-talking voice.

         "You're not my Momma," I told her, staring at her dead faced.

         "Uh no sweetheart I ain't," she said looking back at Daddy.

         "Then get out of my Momma's shirt, you're not Momma!" I yelled in her face.

         "Kasey, you mind yourself and apologize right now," Daddy scolded placing a batch of the pancakes on the table.

         "No! She's not Momma so she shouldn't be wearin' Momma's stuff! Take it off. Take it off. Take. It. Off!" I screamed, slamming my hands on the table.

         "Girl Mary-Ann might be your new Momma so show her some respect," Daddy yelled at me as he pulled me out of the chair. He turned me toward Mary-Ann and slapped the back of my head, "now apologize."

I wiggled out of Daddy's grip and stepped closer to Mary-Ann, looking up at her makeup smeared face and bed head.

         "I DON'T WANT A WHORE AS MY MOMMA!" I screamed in her face then bolted out of the back door, hearing my Daddy yell after me.

         I ran into the lavender fields behind our house, tripping over rocks and scratching my knees as I continuously fell. I kept running and running until I came to the oak tree in the middle of the field, tired. Now of course Daddy found me and gave me the worst beating I had ever had, whipping me for an hour with one of the branches and his open palm.

         That summer showed me a glimpse of what would occur for two years. Try as I might, I could do nothing to avoid Daddy’s anger and Mary-Ann’s presence didn’t help at all. Daddy soon started to be tired of just slapping me and moved up to punches and the occasional kicks. Luckily I usually wear Momma’s old jean jacket from when she was little so no one saw the bruises or scars, I couldn’t bear the thought of someone taking me from Daddy. I had always thought that summer would be the worse it would ever get, believing Daddy would stop one day, however nothing could prepare me for the events of my ninth birthday. My birthdays were the only time I was ever safe, Daddy would always continue the tradition Momma started when I turned four. He'd wake me up and lead me to the kitchen where my favorite French toast would be waiting for me to demolish. Afterwards, I was free from all chores and allowed to play all day while Daddy made dinner. Then he would scurry me to the bathroom and into the tub filled with bubbles and once I had my fun, he'd spray me with one of Momma's old perfume bottles and then read me to sleep with one of my favorite fairy tales. It was the only day where things seemed normal again. Therefore, when Mary-Ann's face was the first thing I saw I knew the day would be bad.

         "Daddy!" I yelled as I pushed Mary-Ann's face away, causing her to fall out of my bed.

         I raced out of my room and into my Daddy's, jumping onto the bed. Climbing on my Daddy's sleeping form I shake him frantically. His eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up, a sneer heavy on his face.

         "Girl there'd better be a good reason for you wakin' me up," he warned me, lifting his hand for emphases.

         "It's my birthday Daddy," I mumbled, looking down at the covers. "I thought we'd continue Momma's tradition."

I peered up at him through my eyelashes, watching him take in what I had said. Even as I saw his face soften, I still flinched when he reached out to pat my head.

         "Of course we will baby, come on let's get that French toast started," Daddy said getting out of bed to get dressed.

With that, the tradition began once more only this year Mary-Ann participated, much to my visible discontent. I tried to avoid her as much as I could and decided to spend my afternoon off by the creek with some friends. When I returned soaking wet, Mary-Ann was the one to rush me into the bathroom and into my bubble bath, despite my protests. Once dressed, I walked to the kitchen and was confused to see Daddy sitting at the table.

         "Did you finish cooking already Daddy?" I asked at I took my seat opposite him.

         "No, hun, Mary-Ann made you somethin' special," Daddy replied as Mary-Ann put down a bowl.

         "What's that?" I asked deadpanned, staring at the food she made.

         "Jambalaya!" she exclaimed, placing a bowl in font of Daddy. "Like it?"

As I stared as the rice dish, anger bubbled inside me. This woman came into my family trying to replace my Momma by wearing her clothes, kissing my Daddy, and now she is trying to ruin the tradition Momma had started. Now please remember I had the total belief that on my birthday I was untouchable, that my Daddy would never hurt me so I had no reason not to take risks like skipping out on daily work or tracking in mud from the creek. That's why I had no fear when I turned to Mary-Ann and pushed my bowl off the table, its loud crash a preamble to my speech.

         "No I don't like it, this is MY birthday! Mine! I'm supposed to get everything I want but instead you ruin EVERYTHING! All I wanted was a special day with my Daddy and pretend that you never existed but instead you tried to change my Momma's tradition with you're stupid, ugly face and you're crappy cooking. You keep trying to be my Momma but I already told you that I. Don't. Want. A whore. As. My. MOMMA!" I screamed.

         I watched as Mary-Ann's face crumbled and her eyes started to water, but she ran off before she actually broke down. By now, I started to feel good about myself, it had been a long time since I was able to tell her how I really felt about her and the best part was there would be no beating! At least that's what I thought until I saw Daddy's red face twisted in an intense anger.

         "Go to your room," he said through clenched teeth.

         "Daddy-," I started but quickly shut my mouth when he sent me a scathing glare and scampered to my room.

         I figured he would give me a stern talking to at the most so I got ready for bed, thinking that after he would still read to me. After I set my favorite book on the nightstand, I settled into my bed. I waited for twenty minutes until I heard Daddy come up the stairs, go into his room, and start comforting Mary-Ann. Upset about how Mary-Ann ruined my birthday, I turned off my light and went to bed. It wasn't until late that Daddy decided to come to my room. I woke up as he slammed my door open, his clothes were disheveled and he still had the moonshine bottle in his hand.

         "Daddy?" I asked drowsy and confused.

         "Girl you best have lost your mind cause there is no other reason why you should ever talk to an adult like that!" he yelled stalking closer, dropping the bottle.

I slid across the bed as he came closer, whimpering when I hit the wall. Daddy grabbed my arm and pulled me from the bed.

         "I told you to respect Mary-Ann, you brat! You know better than to talk to anyone like that, especially Mary-Ann." He said and slapped me in my face.

         I stayed silent, never seeing Daddy this angry. He punched me hard, knocking me down and started kicking until he got down and began punching me as usual. This went on for what felt like hours, Daddy aiming for vulnerable areas such as my stomach and face. I thought it would be an average beating until he hovered over my face, casting me in his dark shadow. Daddy muttered something before he reached for my throat, closing his hands around it and squeezing hard. I immediately started struggling, clutching his wrist as I opened my mouth to beg him to stop but no sound came out. He paid me no mind and continued to add more pressure, his face getting redder from exertion and veins popping up on both arms. The last thing I remember before seeing black is the crazed look in his eyes along with a terrible sinking feeling.

         The next thing I know I'm standing next to Daddy as he continued to beat my limp body. I remember watching as he kept going, taking in the damage done. The entire left side of my face was wrecked; my eye was swollen shut and my nose was sickeningly twisted, leaking blood. The collar of my favorite pajamas soaked with blood and my throat was decorated with light purple bruises. Daddy continued beating my lifeless body for a while, gradually slowing down until he completely stopped and just stared at my dead form. We both stared at my corpse for quite some time, almost shocked to see it there. Daddy was the first to move. He reached over, hand shaking, and shook my shoulder, as if to wake me up. He did this for a while, shaking my body harder and harder until he let out a heartbreaking sob. His body started quaking as he pulled my form into his, crying silently. I still stood behind him, only one thought going through my mind.

         'He killed me.'

         Daddy started to wipe my face lovingly with my pajama top, trying to clean it but mostly just smeared the blood all over.

         'My own Daddy killed me.'

         He gingerly lifted my body from the floor and tucked me into bed, pulling the covers up to hide my neck. I watched him grab my favorite story and start to read to me, as if I was sleeping and not lifeless.

         "How could you do this!" I screamed at his back. "You killed me over that woman who doesn't even belong here!"

         I knew Daddy couldn't hear what I was saying as he kept reading as if nothing had happened. I ran over and starting pounding on his back, tears running down my face.

         "I'll never be able to play with my friends anymore! Or have a birthday, or be a Momma!" I screeched.

         By then, I was just leaning against him, sobbing violently. Daddy finished the story, leaned over, and kissed my probably cold forehead. He walked away from us, my body and I, and closed the door, leaving me standing there, tears rushed down my cheeks as I stared at the last piece of my old life.

         "Or have a happy ending," I whispered into the darkness.