Angles.

Photo by ian dooley on Unplash.

It all started the day you came into my room when you thought I was asleep.

You sat on my bed, beside me, grinning at my sleeping body.

My eyes were shut, but I saw you; I saw the smile on your face and the glimmer in your eyes as you fed them with my whole-body parts.

You called my name, almost in a whisper, but I didn’t respond. Afterall, I was supposed to be asleep.

First, you started with my legs and I held my breath. I could not understand what you were doing as my mind whirled around with numerous questions.

Your hands kept going higher, slowly, until you parted my thighs. It took every strength in me to not make a sound as I was terrified.

You touched me there, digging your fingers deep inside me as though you were searching for a lost treasure.

Despite my heart beating faster than ever before, I didn’t move. I didn’t make a sound.

When you were done, you stood up and left hurriedly, whispering to yourself, ‘What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me?’

I guess you never found out because you came the next night, and the night after that; for months.

Then one day you came, you did the same thing but this time, you didn’t just leave once you were finished using your fingers.

How naive of me to have thought you had gone, until I screamed as you entered me.

I shrieked, and you used your hands to cover my mouth.

I cried, begging you to stop but you thrusted harder, panting and sweating like you always did when you went for your morning jog.

When you were finished, you stood up hurriedly and knelt beside me to beg.

‘I am sorry. Daddy wouldn’t do it again, Daddy loves you. Don’t tell Mummy about this, okay Can Daddy trust you?’

I nodded. It was a mistake you wouldn’t make again.

Except it wasn’t.

You came a week after and I let you. It became a daily routine; one I longed for.

At night, I found myself getting dolled up for you, showering and putting on my best lingerie.

Soon, I stopped wearing one. Of what use was it anyway?

Every time you and Mummy fought, I would console you at night, screaming how much I loved you.

When Sister went to boarding school after a fight you had with Mummy, I consoled you at night.

I apologized for Mummy’s behavior and promised to speak to her to let sister come back home.

How stupid of me.

You see, I loved you Daddy. Not in the way a daughter loved her father.

‘Why did you kill him?’ The man in front of me asks. He is a police officer. I am being interrogated for murder; your murder.

‘Because...’

I cough, sobbing a little. I bow my head and raise it back almost immediately. You should see me, I am like an actress giving an award-winning performance.

I continue speaking, ‘Because he was sleeping with my sister.’

‘So, you killed him, because your mother wasn’t doing anything about him raping her daughters and you hated that.’

I look at him with eyes devoid of every emotion. ‘Yes’ I say.

But that’s a lie.

I killed you because I loved you. But then, you cheated and went to Sister too.

’Am I not enough for you?’

’What does she have that I don’t?’

I remember asking you those questions before stabbing you in the chest multiple times.

I loved you Daddy and that’s why I killed you.