Upon Further Reflection...

Perhaps, it had been better for her that her parents had died when they did. There are far worse things than being an abandoned orphan for nearly the whole of her miserable life. Yes, she had been troubled, ridiculed, scorned, and made an outcast but, as the window of clarity opened up to her, Darla could see that things could have been far worse.

For instance, if her mother had lived, she undoubtedly would have been extremely ill with advanced diabetic complications and totally dependent upon Darla for her care. No matter that her father and three younger brothers were still living and in good health, they were, her bothers especially, little more than barnyard animals in intelligence and moral standards. Her father had always been lax as to discipline regarding the boys.

Darla's father wasn't really her biological father. Her mother, in a fit of weeping and remorse, had told her, in the presence of her "father" that a local pastor was actually her real father. Her mother then asked Darla if she wanted to go and live with her real father while her "father" glared at her from the bed. What could an eight year old say to that?

If her mother had lived and been sick and blind, with no one except Darla to depend on, one could see how her own brothers would have seized the opportunity to overpower her and use her to satisfy their own lustful urges while an indifferent father pretended not to see.

Far fetched? Hardly! She thought as she chuckled to herself. Her mother was barely cold and in the ground before her father brought some sad, sorry, thick glasses wearing, wizened, wheezing, (did I mention OLD?) sock holding dude into her bedroom for her to service. Her brothers were already popping into her bedroom unannounced looking foolish and sheepish. Darla knew then that the show was over. Last curtain call. Time..to..leave.