Daddy Please

I was taking a peaceful, calming walk in the park when I heard screaming. Not just any screaming, but, from what I could tell , was a child screaming.

So I did what any normal 16 year old would do. Ok, maybe not ANY normal 16 year old. But what this one did.

I walked as fast as I could toward the ear clenching yells, scared of what I might see, yet wanting desperately to help whoever may be in trouble. I could hear the noise getting louder and louder as my footsteps got closer and closer. Soon, I could hear a man’s rough voice commanding the victim to shut up, or die. I had now made my way across the street from the park, and was turning into an alley.

Then, I saw the scene before me, and froze in my tracks. It was, as I had contemplated, a little girl, who looked to be about nine laying on the cold concrete ground. That’s not the thing that froze my swift footsteps though. What froze me was the familiar face of my father standing over her with a knife in his giant sized, meaty hands. The same balding Brown hair, in bad need of a trim, and crooked, broken to many times nose, located under dulled blue eyes. It was definitely my father. My usually so full of bear hugs, and wet daddy kisses. No matter how old I was, I would never grow out of getting that special treat before bedtime.

He didn’t see me. He COULDN’T see me. He was to focused on the yelping child in front of him, soon to be his prey, I knew. I was utterly incapable of moving one muscle.

All my options running through my head faster then I could function them.

Suddenly, my brain clicked back into gear, and was ready to put my feet in motion. Just as I took a step forward, my dad’s hand swung down, right into the little girls heart. Once, again, I froze, not knowing what to do. But he didn’t stop there. He took it to an extreme I’ve never once laid eyes on. He made incisions all along her fair skinned face, like tattoos. I watched in horror while he was still oblivious to my presence. I wanted so bad to turn away, and run as far as my weakened legs would take me. It was impossible. Literally impossible for me to move my shaky body. He stopped at her neck, with a final slit , cutting her throat open. Deprived of air, a realization came to me in a gut wrenching, bone shaking chill. And when I got my sense back, I ran. As far as my high-tops would take me,

I didn’t know where I was, but then again, I didn’t care. I was mortified. Scared, devastated. But most of all, suicidal. My life, lately, with me failing algebra, my mother in the hospital with cancer, my dad losing his job, leaving us struggling for money, my best friend moving, and my dog getting hit by a drunk driver, has not been the best. And now, the cherry on top…(drum roll)…..My father is the serial killer of Jaylop County.