She was alone, surrounded by nothing but the dark shadows
that engulfed her as she floated in the darkness of the
starless, midnight air. But she knew that she would not be
alone much longer because he was on his way. She knew it
because she could feel the fear breaking through from
inside of her. She could feel her heart pounding, fighting
relentlessly as if struggling for freedom from the
imprisonment of her chest. The pounding was getting
louder, so loud that she knew he too would hear it soon.
If the lights were on, she was certain she would have been
able to see her heart throbbing in and out, back and
forth, trying to escape, faster and louder. Her heart was
about to explode!
Oh my God, am I dying? Am I having a heart attack? Yeah,
that’s it I’m dying of a heart attack.
Oh God, please take me before he gets here. He’s coming!
Lord, please take me now! I want to die.
She wanted to escape that place and become a beautiful
angel bearing brilliant, white wings and long, flowing
hair. She would have wings so massive, fluffy and white,
that she would be God’s favorite angel. She would dance in
the clouds and slide down the rainbows, laughing and
playing with angelic benevolence. It would be just like a
fairytale. She was certain the Lord would finally answer
her prayer that night. He would not let her down. He
couldn’t, not again.
She could still feel her heart pounding, but she
refused to move or make a sound. She just closed her eyes
tightly, squeezing them shut as hard as she could.
I know that in a
minute I’ll be gone. Any minute now, I’ll be up in Heaven,
smiling and dancing with the angels. The pounding will
stop and he won’t be there. He will never come again.
She allowed a
flush of serene calm and happiness to overcome her.
Any minute now…
"Hey, baby girl."
He’s here! Why is he here? Why am I still here? Lord, I
asked you to take me up to heaven. I asked you to take me
from this place. Why won’t you save me from him? Why would
you leave me here to suffer? Don’t you love me? Don’t you
want me to be happy? I’ve been good. I do my homework
everyday after school. I do everything my mother tells me
to do. I make sure my clothes are neat and clean. I get
straight A’s. I brush my teeth every morning and night
before I go to bed. I pray every night and go to Sunday
School every Sunday. I do everything I am supposed to do
and you just left me here. I’ve asked you every night to
save me, to take me to heaven. Why won’t you answer my
prayers?
"Are you sleeping?"
Simone refused to move or open her eyes. But her heart was
still pounding. She was certain he could hear it. He knew
she was awake, petrified with dread. She could hear his
breathing; it was louder than the pounding of her
hammering heart. His breathing was heavy, as if derived
from exhaustion. With every inhalation, she could imagine
him sucking the breath right out of her lungs, leaving her
to die a slow death of suffocation. He was staring at her.
His eyes were piercing her through the night. He could see
her through the darkness, right through her purple fleece
blanket. The blanket kept her covered and did the best it
could to shield her from his eyes, but she knew it wasn’t
working. She suddenly flinched as his cold presence
snapped her back to a brutal reality. She was no longer
floating in the midnight sky. She was at home, in bed,
eyes still shut tight, heart still pounding uncontrollably
and wishing she were dead. He knew she wasn’t sleeping. He
knew she had been up all night, fearing that he would
come, and praying that he didn’t.
He knew that she hated him and he hated himself. He told
her the night before last. He hated himself for loving her
and craving her the way that he did. He wanted to take her
every night and he tried to fight it, but his desire was
just too strong to control. The nights that he did not
come were the times that he was able to win the battle
with himself. Those nights were becoming sparse.
He would often talk to her about when she was a baby. He
remembered holding her when she was just a few months old
and looking down at her wiggling in his arms. She was so
tiny, chubby, and pink, the prettiest baby he had ever
seen. He would put his finger out for her to hold and she
would grab it with the strong grip of a grown man. He
would always laugh about that. He used to talk to her
about what she would be when she grew up. He imagined her
being a famous actress, singer or model. With a face like
hers, she was destined to be on somebody’s stage. Simone
had an undeniable beauty. With the kind of face that one
would only come across once in a lifetime, she was too
pretty to be called pretty. She was extraordinary. Her
skin was the color of roasted almonds. Her jet-black hair,
thick and curly, grazed the small of her back. Her huge,
green, emerald-like eyes were hypnotic. She had a
perfectly symmetrical face with striking features that hit
you with the impact of an explosion if you were lucky
enough to catch sight of her. She was phenomenal and he
was mesmerized from the day she was born.
He promised her, from the beginning, that he would be the
best father possible, and he kept his promise throughout
the years. He made sure that he played with her everyday,
just the two of them. He bought her anything she wanted,
before she would have to ask. She always had the best of
everything and he made sure that she attended the best
schools. Even on his busiest day, he took the time to help
her with her homework. Her hair and clothes were always
impeccable. Her poise and grace were flawless. Most of her
peers hated her for her beauty and even more so for her
perfection. He never let her forget how much he loved her.
He sat on the left side of her bed. Still, she wouldn’t
open her eyes, but she knew he was still looking at her,
longing to touch her. He pulled back the purple blanket
and exposed her shivering, petite frame. He tenderly
touched her face and wiped the salty tears from her
cheeks. She was lying there frozen with her hands glued to
her sides as if prepared for burial. She tried her best
not to make a sound, but eventually a sniffle crept
through against her will.
Come on– Come on, just do it! What is taking him so
long? Why is he making me go through this?
Another sniffle interrupted the silence, but it was not
her own. She finally opened her eyes to see her father,
his back turned to her, crying. The cry was a soft one at
first, then with uncontrollable sobs. His broad shoulders
shook as his face rested in his large hands. Simone was
confused and did not know how to react. Dumbfounded, she
fought the urge to comfort him. This man had ruined her
life. This man caused her infinite pain and self-loathing,
yet she could not help but to feel sorry for her father.
"I’ll pray for
you, Daddy." She looked up at him and softly said this
just above a whisper.
He turned to
face her with tears streaming down his face. He was
overwhelmed with love for her – this time the kind of love
a father is supposed to have for his daughter. He wanted
to hold her, but resisted the urge to act. How could he
continue to destroy the one thing that he adored more than
life itself? How could he be so monstrous and
self-serving? He was killing his beloved baby and he knew
it. He despised himself.
"I love you, Simone. You know that don’t you? You know
that I love you more than I can begin to express to you.
Don’t you ever forget that I love you, baby. I do this
because of how I love you. No matter how hard you try, you
just can’t control who you love. You’ll understand that
when you get older. I know you think I’m horrible and that
I want to cause you pain, but that’s not true. You have to
believe that. I don’t want to hurt you, baby girl. I want
to love you and I want you to feel the same way. You are
everything to me and I’m just too weak to fight it when I
know that I should."
Simone remained silent. Tears ran rapidly from her eyes.
She knew that he loved her. She read it in his eyes every
time he looked at her. She heard it in his voice and felt
it in his touch. There was no doubt that he loved her. He
was in love with her. She listened as he continued his
attempt to justify the sick actions and irrational
feelings he had for his 14-year old daughter with the word
"love." Love. What was love anyway? She thought she knew
at one time, but if this was love, she wanted no part of
it. Love was pain. Her father was in love with her because
she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes
on. Her body had developed into that of a beautiful young
woman, sparking a lust in his eyes. He constantly told her
how gorgeous she was and she hated it.
She hated the
image that stared back at her while looking in the mirror.
She hated it so much, that she tried to avoid her
reflection at all times. She kept her head down when
passing mirrors. It felt natural to avoid pictures and to
hide her face whenever possible. God had cursed her with
her looks. He damned her to a life of misery and pain –
at the hands of her own father.
"I know you
love me, Daddy. I just wish that you didn’t."
He stood
slowly, letting the tears fall freely down his face and
forced himself to walk out of the room with slow, measured
strides. He had won the battle for that night. But
the following night he was defeated yet again.
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