… close!
They’re close!
What do I do?
Closer… I’m not ready.
Closer… I don’t want this.
Closer… Help me.
Closer… I’m too late.  
They’re here.

Rotten teeth,
Greasy hair,
Alcohol breath with a mix of tobacco,
Eyes that abandoned all emotion.

Why did I think I could push down my fear?
How naive I was!
I see it’s fist clenched and come up.
SMACK!
I’m knocked to the floor.
My cheek red and swollen.
They do it again,
And again,
And again,
And again.

I scream and plead for them to stop, but they don’t.
They never do.
Next, is feet.
Kick
Punch
Kick
Punch
Then repeat.

A ruby liquid is enveloping around me.
Getting bigger,
And bigger,
And bigger.
No matter what I do or how hard I push or how loud I scream, they continue harder.
It’s laughing… at my pain.
A laugh that will forever haunt me.

My vision… blurry.
My head pulsating.
I know… I’m going to die.
If the cause for all this would have been different then would I have had a better life?

They suddenly stopped and I thought it was over.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I felt a hand, their hand slide up my shirt.
No!
Going to my bra and squeezing the outside. They licked their lips as if they enjoyed the look of horror swells up in my eyes.  
No!
Wrapping the very same hand around my back and clips off my bra.
NO!
Pushing up both my bra and shirt, they flicked my ******, twisting it between their fingers.
NO!
NO!
NO!
NO!
I don’t want this!
I push harder, I don’t want to die like this.
Screaming louder, hoping someone can hear my cries for help, my throat burning for some water.

They gave a hard slap to my face, adding onto the countless bruises, as a warning to shut up and then continued to feel me up.
Crimson drops flow freely down my bruised face and into the puddle beneath me.
My bones growing tired and the strength I had, in the beginning, is slowly depleting, but I can’t give up.

Light.
I can see it.
I can see her, walking out with pure wings strapped to her,
looking even more heavenly than the last time I saw her.

I look up and into the eyes of the person on top of me.
I can feel their other hand reaching for my pants.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice raspy.
They stop and meet my eyes, confused.
“Even if you hate me. I know you think it’s my fault she died
and punish me for it. I let you because I thought so too.”
Their face is cloudy. My vision growing blacker.

“Since she died, I’ve put up with this abuse and I knew she wouldn’t have wanted me to hate you, even as you do this.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I took her from you.
You will always hate me for what I have done.
I don’t blame you if you do.
I can’t go back and fix what has been done.
You don’t know how much I wish it was me instead.”

The eyes that had been dead, since her, softened.
“I need you to do something for me. For us.
We need you to live like we never entered your life.
We both want you to be happy, but if you keep holding onto the past,
you never will. Do not mourn over us.”
My vision is going in and out and the light is getting brighter.  

“I love you, daddy.”
I feel water falling on my face.
He’s crying. He cares.
My heart starts to slow down and skin grows cold.

I run to her, to mom, and jump into her awaiting arms.
Tears of joy.
I close my eyes and wait for the darkness to take over.
The last of my words cascaded out of my stained lips,
“Goodbye, daddy.”