A Daddy's Love

Walking home taunted by her peers. Teasing her, calling her names, throwing down her books. She falls to the floor on her knees, as they walk away laughing. She waits till their gone. She then grabs her books and walks home. Tears streaming down her face, she slows down her pace. Finally, she drops to the ground by her own force. Her face in her hands, she cries. Nobody bothered to stop, to see if she was all right; they didn't care. A wonderful person, alone in the hatred while it points its finger at her. Creating a landscape with her rage. Finally home, she stops in front of her door. Whiping away her tears, she forces her smile. "Hi." Her father adressed her in a firm voice. "Ummm... hi daddy." she said confused. "What did I tell you?" He said while raising his voice. "Did I not tell you to get home before I did so you could clean the house up?" "I... umm... I'm sorry Daddy," she managed to utter. "You're sorry? YOU'RE SORRY?! Look at this place! Dirty dishes everywhere!" He was yelling at the top of his lungs. Grabbing plates and suddenly throwing them down to collapse on the floor. Suddenly, she ran. She ran into her bedroom. "Don't you run from me!" He said while standing, not breaking his statue like structure. "Please Daddy, don't. I'm sorry. I'll clean it up." She said, begging and pleading. He ran after her. Undoing his belt, and rapidly sliding it out. Banging his belt against the walls; she shuddered with fear each time she heard the bangs. Trying to keep him away, she locks the door and blocks it with her dresser. Realizing what she did, he enters the kitchen, grabbing the biggest butcher knife they had. Stomping down the hall with his fierce feet, he stands in front of her bedroom. "Daddy. Please, don't." He raised the butcher knife and stabbed the door with it repeatedly. With a final kick, he entered her bedroom. Ignoring her tears, he swung his belt at her. The stings his her one after another. Throwing down the knife and belt, he grabbed her by the neck. Doing this, he lifted her up against the wall. "DON'T YOU EVER DISOBEY ME! YOU HEAR ME?!" Blinded by his rage, he didn't realize she was dead. "DO YOU HEAR ME?!" He repeated. Letting go of his hatred, he looks at her finally aware. Slowly letting go as she slowly slides down the wall. His body meeting the floor as hers does. Grasping hold of her corpse, he holds her tight, as the tears stream down his face. "Baby, I'm so sorry. What have I done? Baby, please, wake up. I love you so much. Please, don't leave me. I'm so sorry." Confused, he entered the bathroom. Washing his face with fierce water, he looks up at the mirror and spits at his reflection. Trying to stay rational, but unable to do so. Still crying, he enters his bedroom with water dripping from his face. Unlocking the cabinet, he takes out his gun. He looks at it and puts it down. "No," he says firmly, "I will suffer as I made you suffer." He entered his garage, searching for rope. Found it. He made a sure knot and tied it to the cieling. Standing on the bed, with the rope for a necklace, he said softly, "This is for you baby girl. Daddy loves you. Daddy's coming." With this, he stepped off the bed. Slowly, dying, with happiness.1