Sitting on the soft, padded sofa, alone, she gazed out the
window. The sky was a perfect blue and the sun was shining
still even though it was mid-afternoon. The sound of the
doorbell awoke her from her daydreaming and she hurried to
answer it. There, standing tall like a grotesque statue
stood a man who looked old enough to be her dad. Behind him
she saw the sky turn from it’s striking blue, to a dull,
stormy grey, the sun vanishing as if warning her that danger
was ahead. He smiled a patronising smile, asked her how she
was and if her daddy was home, she replied she was fine with
an innocent smile and added that her daddy was still at work
and wouldn’t be home for another few hours, nor would her
mummy. He grinned at this information and watched as the
smile slid off her face like water from a tap. Forcing his
way in, she stood paralysed against the wall staring in
utter disbelief. He closed the door behind him and advanced
toward her, she recoiled from him and tried to run. He
grabbed her hair and yanked on it. She fell to the floor and
writhed in agony, some of her long flowing hair still
clasped in his powerful fist. He looked down at her in
disgust and lifted her bodily from the floor. She tried to
scream but nothing came out, instead tears streamed down her
cheeks and she shook her head, eyes closed, praying for him
to go away. Her prayers remained unanswered though as he
pressed ever closer to her fragile form now propped up
against the stairs. 

He told her to go upstairs, but she didn’t move, just
shook her head and mouthed ‘no’. Again he told her to go
upstairs, sounding more commanding this time, but again her
answer remained the same. At this point he grabbed her wrist
and dragged her up the stairs, him leading and her trailing
behind, losing her footing, wrist twisting madly in his palm
trying to free herself from his grip. He threw her into her
room and closed the door, trapping her. He told her that if
she ran he would only make things more difficult for her and
that he wasn’t trying to hurt her, just helping her grow
up. He sank onto her bed and pulled her onto his lap,
hugging her tightly, arms wrapped round her, gripping her
tightly. He stroked her hair; heavy hands weighing down on
her head making her feel dizzy. He scrunched her hair in his
hands and smelt it, told her it smelled prettier than
flowers and that she was a big girl to have such beautiful
hair. He rocked her gently before she started to struggle
against him, forcing herself to writhe and wriggle to try
and free herself. This was the first time he hit her. A hard
slap across the face to which she could only look shocked.
He didn’t stop there though and soon she could feel her
body bruising as he kicked and punched her to keep her
quiet. She could taste blood; she wanted it to be over, she
wanted her mum to come home, anything but this. Glancing at
the childish bunnykins clock hanging on her wall, he stood
up and sat her down. Bringing his face right up to hers so
she could feel his putrid breath on her face, he made her
swear that she wouldn’t tell anyone or he would get her
family. Drawing a hand across his neck as if decapitating
somebody he could not have made it plainer. He kissed her
gently and headed towards the door. She lay down and curled
up, listening carefully for the door to slam before
dissolving into tears at what had just happened.

That night she locked herself in the bathroom before bath
time and looked at her body. It was black and blue from
where he had kicked and punched her for trying to get away.
She touched her arm and instantly knew she shouldn’t have.
Her whole body was throbbing and with every heart beat a new
wave of pain came over her to the point it made her wretch.
Running a warm bath, she soaked herself in the bubbles, the
warm water soothing the aches and pains in her muscles and
relaxing her just enough for her to drift off into happier
thoughts. When she clambered out of the bath she found
herself holding onto the edge of the sink to steady her, as
the dizziness was overwhelming. Towelling herself dry, she
changed into her pyjamas and went and sat before the mirror
to brush her long brown hair that she had once been so proud
of, now it was just something from a nightmare and she
wanted it cut off.

It was a week before he returned, the weather again
reflecting the danger of what was about to unfold. She tried
not to let him in, but he overpowered her, telling more lies
that he would get her family and that she didn’t want
that. Again he dragged her upstairs, this time taking a
fistful of her hair as she kept her arms out of the way.
Laying her down on her bed, he stroked her, every inch of
her still-bruised body. She told him to stop, that she
didn’t like it, but again he slapped her and told her to
shut up and carried on. Gently unbuttoning her skirt, he
slid it from her trembling body. Lifting her rigid form onto
his lap he took off her school jumper and blouse. She was
numb, was not in control of her own emotions, tried to
scream but every time received a slap until her bruises were
once again throbbing painfully. He laid her down again, and
she closed her eyes, she couldn’t stand the sight of him
any longer. He kissed her. Every bit of her pale skin was
covered in kisses from his rough lips. She squirmed, but
knew she could not stop him, just prayed god would deliver
her from this torture, but where was god? Though her eyes
were clamped tightly shut and she was trying her best to
ignore the sounds he made, she could not mistake the sound
of a zipper. Carefully opening one eye she saw him take his
trousers off, then his boxers, so he was now naked below the
waist. She gasped, not wanting to take in the sight and felt
herself heave, nausea washing over her. She closed her eyes
tighter and prayed harder to god that she would not
experience what was to happen next. She felt his hands on
her waist, stroking her legs and her lower abdomen. She felt
him slide her pants off her and kiss the tops of her legs.
She could feel him shaking as he pressed ever nearer, great
tears forming in her eyes, flowing down her cheeks, sobs
caught in her throat, cries that would not come out, that
remained unanswered. He straddled her, and she flinched.
What happened next was pain beyond any she had ever
experienced, like somebody had stabbed her over and over
again and the knife was slowly ebbing deeper inside of her.
She whimpered but he did not hear. His breathing was
becoming faster, he was moaning, and she didn’t understand
why, a numbness had taken over her and she couldn’t
respond, couldn’t open her eyes or anything. If this was
hell she wanted to know why she was here.