“Upstairs. Now.”
“No. Please,” I cried, tears threatening to fall. My stomach dropped to the floor. “Anything but that. Please. Not again.”
“Now, Scarlett,” he demanded, raising his voice.
I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place. He had no more patience, so he grabbed my upper arm and dragged me up the stairs. My feet tripped over one another as I begged him not to do this. Not tonight.
“Shut up before I make you,” he hissed. I clamped my lips together, letting the tears run free.
After everything this week, I just couldn’t do any more. I was at my limit—a limit I didn’t know I had. Once upstairs, he dragged me to his room and tossed me towards his bed. It was unkempt, and one thick comforter was on the floor. The sheet was on sideways, his pillow nowhere to be seen.
Please, God, if you’re there, please either kill me now or make him stop. Please.
“You know what to do,” he said, raising an eyebrow as I sat awkwardly on his bed as he took off his shirt. “Do not test me.”
“Please,” I sobbed, scooting back one small inch as a time. He took a huge breath of air. In the next moment, when his eyes met mine, I knew there wasn’t a God. No one would save me. Not tonight. Not ever.
His eyes were dark as he pushed his pants down and off his feet before taking measured steps towards me.
“You never tell menoagain. You will never even think of doing so, or I will end you. I already endedher.”
“Please.” I was pathetic.
A wicked gleam lit his face as he grabbed my ankle and pulled me roughly to the end of the bed. With practiced ease, my pants were off right along with my underwear. He pushed me flat on my back, spreading my legs open with his knees in the same motion. I knew what was coming, and I gave out one last feeble beg. He slapped me hard on the same cheek as earlier, and more tears leaked from my eyes.
I had nothing left to fight for.
His groan of pleasure twisted my stomach and a shiver racked my body. Without a word, he pushed into me hard and quick, making me cry out. He stretched me wide, hurting me from the inside out.
Fathers weren’t supposed to do these things to their daughters. They weren’t supposed to hurt and abuse the ones that they loved.
“Shut up,” he hissed, pushing into me harder and harder with each thrust. “I’ll put that mouth to use if you keep it up.”
I turned my head, refusing to watch him find his release. I closed my eyes as tight as possible as he took what he wanted from me again. I let the darkness take me under as he squeezed my neck in his hand, releasing into me.
My lungs stung from lack of use as I lay in bed, curled in on myself. My eyes were coated in dried tears. My heart was beating way too fast as I willed my life to end. I wasn’t sure my voice would ever work again—it hurt to even swallow.
Even hours later, I could feel my father’s nails digging into my windpipe, cutting off my air. I remember looking at him in fear, begging with my eyes to either stop or put an end to all of this.
I thought I’d feared this man before, but now, with Lisa gone, he seemed more desperate to make my life a living hell.
My father had never made me pass out before, not while taking my body. I was used to him being rough whenever he felt like it, but he took it the furthest ever last night. He crushed me like I was nothing.
I heard him moving around downstairs, thumping and slamming things closed in the kitchen. I knew I needed to get up, but what was the point? Why even try to pretend to be normal? Why try to tell the world that I was okay?
I let my eyes close, facing the window as time passed. I hurt from the inside out. I couldn’t tell where the pain started and where it ended; even breathing was difficult.
I pretended to be asleep as he came in to check on me, his heavy footsteps shaking the floor. I felt his overbearing presence at the end of the bed as he stared down at me.
“I know you’re awake,” he said after a moment. I rolled over and opened my swollen eyes. I refused to look at this monster before me. He had lost the right to be called my father years ago.
“I’m headed to work. Already called the school to let them know you’d be out for the rest of the week due to a horrible bout of flu. I expect this house to be shining when I get back and dinner to be on the table.”
“Okay,” I breathed out, feeling my throat spasm. “Yes, sir,” I tacked on when he raised his hand, ready to slap me.
He huffed before leaving my room without a second glance, minutes later slamming the front door hard enough to rattle the entire house.
Flinging off the blanket, I let the chill of the early morning seep into my bones. I shivered involuntarily as my feet touched the floor. After using the bathroom and getting dressed, ignoring the mirror above the sink, I felt the pain worse than ever. I wanted to run, but there was no way I’d make it even a mile in my state.
