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missmadisings

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The Nightmare

I am eight. The house is quiet. The crying coming from my parent’s room stopped long ago. Mommy just miscarried again. Four pregnancies since I was born and no new kid.

I am still awake. I am sitting in my alcove looking at the moon. It’s full tonight. Like a spotlight. I have no idea what is about to happen.

Someone knocks on my door. I open it. Daddy is standing there. I am afraid that he will yell at me because I am awake. I don’t know how I missed his footsteps. Then again, Daddy has always been a quiet man.

“Is Mommy okay?” I ask in my childish voice.

Daddy nods his head. Then he looks left and right. He puts his finger to my lips and walks forward, closing the door behind him.

“She just fell asleep, Katie. Let’s not wake her up.”

I nod solemnly. I don’t want to wake up Mommy. I don’t like it when she’s unhappy. Daddy grabs my hand and leads me to my bed. I feel like a princess. I will not be feeling like that for very long.

Daddy: I’m going to sleep in here tonight, Katie. I don’t want to bother Mommy.

I nod and crawl in bed. Daddy crawls in after me. I curl into him and take in his comforting sent. The sent that will haunt me forever.

I start to close my eyes. Suddenly, Daddy flips over so that I’m lying underneath him.

“Daddy, that hurts! I want to go to bed!”

I try to push him off of me. He tightens his grip on my wrists. His legs clamp down over mine. I feel the bruises blossoming.

“Daddy stop it! That hurts! YOU’RE HURTING ME!!”

Daddy shoves his hand over my mouth. He doesn’t speak. He grabs my shirt and rips it off. Then he pulls my pants down. I try to tell him no. I scream it in my head. NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!

Daddy doesn’t hear me. He takes off my panties. I start crying. Daddy grabs a pillow and holds it over my face. It gets wet with my tears. I’m having trouble breathing through the fabric.

I hear cloth fall to the floor. I feel Daddy’s bare body pressed against mine. Something hard and warm is rubbing against my stomach. I try to squirm away from it. Daddy holds me tighter.

Then the hard thing disappears. I take a deep breath, hoping that it is over. It is just beginning.

I feel pain so hard I scream coming from between my legs. I feel the hard warm thing pumping inandout, inandout, inandout. Every pump sends red hot daggers along my body.

I am screaming and screaming and the pumping is getting faster and faster. And the pillow is pressing harder and harder. And the hold is getting tighter and tighter. And the pain is getting sharper and sharper. And I am dying! I am dying!

I am dead. Surely this pain is only allowed in Hell.

The pillow is soaking from my tears. I am gagging on the wet fabric. I don’t know where Daddy is or what is going on. I feel something hot and warm coming out of my legs and realize I am bleeding.

This isn’t happening. This pain isn’t happening. I am dreaming. I am really asleep and Daddy is really lying with Mommy, wiping away her tears. I am not undressed. I am not being smothered with a pillow. I am not being bruised by Daddy’s strong arms. This is a dream.

But it isn’t a dream. And Daddy really is hurting me. And I really am being smothered with a pillow. And Mommy really is all alone in her bed. And I really am undressed. And I am really not dreaming.

I am really SCREAMING. And SCREAMING. And SCREAMING. And I think that it might end soon.

And then it does end. The pillow is gone. Daddy is off of me. He is getting dressed. He goes to the door. Winks. Leaves. I am left alone. I am always alone.