A Most Insincere Apology

“I am so sorry…”

These words echo within my mind as I think to the man that had the audacity to pronounce them.

Karl Whitson.

This is his name. The name of the fiend who has destroyed my loving little daughter. She was barely twenty-eight, not a young girl anymore but, in the eyes of her father, she shall always be my precious little girl. She loved him so much, she was completely infatuated by him and yet, I knew he wasn’t deserving of her.

She had always been so joyful, so playful.

But since she had fallen in love with Him, she had begun to change.

Week after week, whenever she came by to our house, she looked always so gaunt and weak.
She would sometimes give a half-hearted laugh as she would tell us, as if it was a joke, of those times when he would wake her up in the middle of the night, right before she had a meeting at her office, or at an important interview for her career.

She would pretend to be happy, but I know she had to be hurting.

Yet, those times I tried to let her understand that there were thousands of fishes in the sea, that she could find a much better companion for her life, she would always reply that she loved him.

That she couldn’t live without him.


He is rich, he is famous. He is a celebrity.
One of them Tiktoker’s that the kids are all raging about as of late.

But I knew he was evil.

I knew the moment he came at our door, the moment she presented him to us to receive our blessing for their engagement. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

But, Juliet, my sweet, little, hummingbird, she knew me and would keep asking me if I wanted her happy.

Of course, I wanted to!
In the end, I relented. I gave them my blessing and she was joyously gushing with her mother about this.

Yet, my gut told me that this man, this young man wasn’t to be trusted, and I tried, I tried, to let Juliet understand but she didn’t want to listen the words of her old dad.

And then, one year later he began. Doing this thing of his, these Tiktok’s, scaring her in the middle of the night, driving her to work only to leave her on foot, right in between their apartment and her office.

Forcing her to endure, day after day, and yet she stayed at his side, taking his defense whenever we argued.

“I will change him…” “He’s a sweetheart” “They’re only harmless jokes” “This is his work, Dad. He needs to do these sketches to make money…”

And yet I couldn’t understand how she could still go after him.

I tried telling the police, that he was abusing her. They wouldn’t believe me.

One of those cops had the audacity to tell me that I had to get over it. That I was yet another overjealous dad and that I just had to let her go and live her life. I didn’t reply. They wouldn’t understand.

How could they understand, when they all laughed as they saw his sketches posted on the internet, those same sketches where my daughter was the victim of His bullying acts.


Then it happened.

He and his buddies thought that this would be the culmination of their careers.
This sketch, this… Joke… was to bring Juliet to a private party, make her drunk and record her as she made a fool of herself, live, in front of millions of viewers. Or so they said to the court.

I didn’t believe a single word.

But that was not what had happened.

The police had been very thorough in their job, they had found several evidences, and were able to say what exactly had happened, although, they had no evidence on the culprits. Juliet had been severely drugged. Something in her drink, they said.
Then, after a wild party, she had been dragged and brought away, where she was abused. And raped.

Several times, by several people.

For the entire night.



It was then that he said those words. And the jury believed them.

He was free to go.


I was enraged!

I had no proof, but I knew it was him that had done it.

I could see his little grin as he spoke with the local newspaper, I could feel his excitement in having destroyed her and having managed to get out clean, and yet nobody believed me.

Nobody, outside of Janet, Juliet’s mother.

But I couldn’t let go that monster to walk freely, while my poor little hummingbird is now, nothing but a shell of the joyful girl she had been before.

When the excitement for these events faded, so did he. He didn’t even have the guts to come and tell us! He sent a letter, with those words.

Always with those words.

“I am so sorry but, I have to break the engagement with Juliet…”


But, as they say, that is water under the bridge now, isn’t it, Karl?

Yes. You can’t move. I personally made those shackles just for you.

Juliet never told you, didn’t she? She never told you of my forge in the woods either, eh?

I’m a smith, Karl.

I work with metals. And if I can reshape metal to my will… I will also manage the same with you.

You see this? This is a mallet, Karl.

It isn’t used in the forge but Juliet, when she was little, loved to see the sparks flying and wanted me to buy one to see even more sparks.

This is Her mallet, Karl.

And I will get great pleasure in breaking every single bone in your body, until you’re just as broken as she is.

Oh, one more thing, Karl.

I am so sorry.