Five

Mommy said I have to pick up my toys because daddy will be home soon. When she said that my tummy got floppy. So I ran to pick up my toys so I could go sit in my room. As soon as I closed the door to my room I heard a car outside. My tummy hurts and it feels floppy again. I know that daddy is home so I sit on my bed and wait for him. I hear him yell at mommy and tell her to go to the store so she can get stuff for dinner. I walk over to the window and I see mommy running to the car holding her cheek I know she is trying to hurry. Because if she takes too long she will get another slap. I hear daddy start to walk up the stairs to my room so I run back to the bed and sit down. He opens the door and tells me that I’m a good slut for being where he told me to be. I watch daddy walk in and lock the door behind him like he always does. He sits down on the bed next to me and pulls me on to his lap. My tummy hurts and I’m scared but I don’t talk or cry, daddy said I’m not allowed.


When daddy starts to move around under me and starts to touch my private place I close my eyes until it’s over. Daddy tells me that he loves me more than mommy and that I’m a good slut. Him talking in my ear like that scares me and I feel like I’m going to throw up. When daddy gets done he makes me promise to keep our game a secret and then he leaves me on the bed. I feel like a bad girl so I take my blanket and sit in my closet until mommy calls me for dinner. I couldn’t eat dinner because my tummy was floppy so daddy got angry and sent me to bed. I don’t like going to bed because bad things happen in the dark. Every night after mommy goes to sleep daddy comes in to my room and plays his secret game with me. This time I can cry when daddy touches me or makes me touch him because he can’t see me in the dark. When daddy leaves I go to sleep in my closet and I wait for him to wake me up in the morning so we can play another secret game.

Ten

Last year when my mom walked in on daddy making me put his privates in my mouth he hit her so she filed for divorce and moved out. I cried for a long time when I found out that she wasn’t going to take me with her but now I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Daddy told me that I belong to him and that he would kill me before he let me go. He told me that he is the only person in the world that will ever care about me and I believe him. My birthday is tomorrow and I don’t know anyone that remembers or even cares and I know that daddy is out drinking tonight so he will come home angry and will probably hit me. My birthday has never been important daddy will hit me or rape me whenever he feels like it but its okay because I know that daddy only hurts me because he loves me.

Fifteen

I hate my dad. He doesn’t love me. I hate my mom. She doesn’t love me. I hate myself. I don’t love anything about who I am. I’m a stupid daddy fucking slut. I let him rape me. It was my fault for being stupid. I wish I would die. I wish my dad would have killed me when he slammed my head into the fire place or when he choked me and made me black out. Why does daddy tell me that he loves me? Why does daddy tell me he hates me? Why does daddy call me his princess? Why does daddy call me his slut? I’m scared. My tummy hurts. I don’t want to be hurt any more. I want to die. I want to kill myself.

With all of these thoughts spinning through my head I got out of my closet and went into the kitchen while daddy wasn’t home and got the box cutter. I walked to the bathroom and closed the door. I ran a bath tub full of water and got in with my clothes still on. I cut my wrist as deep as I could and watched and as my blood came rushing out. I dropped my arm and the box cutter into the water and waited to die. The only emotion I was feeling as I started to black out was happiness because I knew that I would never have to deal with my daddy raping me or hitting me ever again. The darkness of unconsciousness and eventually death was warm and inviting.

Still fifteen

I woke up a day later in the hospital after my failed suicide attempt. When the police wouldn’t stop asking questions about my bruises and cuts I decided to tell them about everything that my father had done to me. The doctors kept me in the hospital for a few more days and then I was sent to live in a foster home. Things are okay now but I still have nightmares about daddy and his special games.


The end

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 23.06.2012

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