Daddy, I Love You

• Danielle Wojcicki, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2008

Daddy, I love you.

Chapter 1

I could never think of why I couldn’t make any friends in public school and high school for that matter. I'd watch the girls walk past me, barely even noticing me amongst the shadows where I’d sit by myself. I didn't have any friends.

When I moved away, I felt the same emptiness as I got when I first went to public school and got bullied. "Rolly Polly, Rolly Polly" they'd chant over and over again, driving me more and more into the deserted corner so I couldn’t move, just to stare at their eyes as mine were filled with terror. Yet they didn’t think to stop, not once to notice that I was upset and crying. No one, no one helped me.

I have a fear of people now, everything that has happened at school and at home, has caused most of the problem. I had always been shy, but not to the point where I’d, not be able to talk to anyone. "It’s just hormones, she's just trying to get attention from everyone", that was the counsel’s words after a weeks counselling at the hospital. What did she know, what did she know about my feelings that I didn't? It is my body, I thought over and over again as she explained my condition of depression. I could hear it ringing.

My parent's didn’t think any of it to be there fault. Especially my father. Every night, coming home drunk and the smell of the smoke reminded me that he was home, every night I’d sob over and over again until he stopped. But every night he kept on going.

I didn't think there was a god, but I still prayed. I prayed everyday of my life that he would not come home, that mummy would do something or that I could tell her, but I couldn't. I loved daddy too much. Even though he hurt me. Sometimes he'd be home earlier and I would expect the worse. But he didn't as my Nan was looking after my baby brother. Oh how I wished she would stay longer. I longed for her to notice me as much as the baby and one day, just maybe she'd move in and everything would be ok.


Chapter 2

That was all but a dream. I looked at the handle to the door of our old house, trying to hold back the tears that reminded me of what was to happen if I was to walk through that door. Or maybe to run away, I have thought of many times but couldn't bare the disappointment on mum. Turning the handle, I wiped away the tears that dripped down from my chin and put on a smile. Daddy was there waiting and gave me a hug. Oh it felt like nothing had ever happened but I knew it was only starting.

When Nan left, daddy would hit me over and over again and tell me that I but a mere child who could do nothing to stop him. Constant reminders made me sick in the stomach as I spewed all over him and all over the floor. I was only 9 years old. The pain of each foul mouthful as it came up. Daddy watching in terror and beating me harder. "Stop it, Stop it" he would scream at me. I began to sob and then it would go dark.

I woke up in my bed, blood soaked. It was still dark outside so I knew mummy would be home now. I crept out and daddy was asleep on the lounge and I could hear mummy humming in the kitchen. I snuck past him and hurried along to the kitchen where I grabbed a glass of water from the fridge. It startled mummy. Each time I saw her, my heart would thump harder and harder as I wanted to tell her everything, but I’d open my mouth and nothing would come out. I'd cover it up with a little smile and a hug. The hug was the best medicine in the world. I'd look forward to it every night and when ever daddy would come into my room I would just think of her hugs to make the time pass. It was like I never wanted to let go, I never wanted her to go away again. Would I ever trade it? No. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

I never had any friends at school, and he never stopped with his nonsense. It kept getting worse and worse as I got older. By the time I was in year 6 I had made a friend called Claire. She had beautiful long blonde hair that flowed past her shoulders and beautiful blue eyes with pale skin that glowed in the sun. She had such kindness in her voice when ever she spoke and now she was my friend, my best friend.

We'd do everything together but when she asked that one day to stay at her house, I regretted the moment of panic that ran through me. The moment of running all the way home, with her number written on my hand. I quickly turned the door knob not remembering that daddy was home, I was to excited about the fact that I had been invited to stay at a friends house, that when it came to asking daddy, I froze in terror. As the smile slowly disappeared from my face, I could feel the memories coming back into place. Time had gone so quickly, daddy was home and Nan had already left. "No daddy please, I’m too tired, I can't I have to ring my friend", he never listened. He just did what he had to do and left me paralysed, crying myself to sleep. I had already gotten my periods when I was 9 so when I bled I was prepared. It always happened so I was used to it happening, but know that was a 'Lady' as my Nan called it, I was to get pregnant and I know about the whole concept of sex. But daddy was prepared. He also knew, he'd listen into mine and Nan's conversations and sometimes tell me things too. But I would try not to listen to him. He only spoke to me when he was ready.

Today was the day I lost my best friend, the only friend I had ever had. She was upset and thought I didn't like her because I never stayed at her house and she never stayed at mine, but although she was my friend I could not tell her what happens when daddy is home, I have to lie and say that I am not aloud as I have to either baby sit my little brother or my mummy isn’t home. Most of the time I say my daddy says no and she asks for her parents to ring up and explain to my dad that it's ok for me to stay but he insists that I stay home to 'baby sit' my little brother. His big brown eyes stare down at me each time he gets off the phone, I know what is going to happen and I prepare myself for the worse. As he pumbles me with his cane and belt buckle I lay there as tears stream down my face and I bite into my arm so he doesn't know I’m hurting otherwise he doesn't stop.

He has stopped coming into my bed of a night this week. Only because mummy has had to come home for a month while they renovate on her work place. She is so nice and beautiful I just wished she could see what a nasty man daddy can be. What he is doing to me, sometimes I think if it is wrong of him to do such things to me, but we have talked about it at school and I am too ashamed to tell anyone, I love daddy and I don’t want him to go to jail. Even though he hurts me but sometimes I deserve it, even though I have not done anything but I think it to make the pain in my heart and the memories that linger go away for a little while, while other times I don’t know what to do.


Chapter 3

We had to move, and I left my old life behind. Brother was sent to hospital so mummy stayed with him and me and daddy went and moved into our new house. "Lucy, Lucy where are you?" I could hear him sing out as I put the rest of the boxes into the recycling bag. I feared the worst as the kindness of his vice echoed through the house, I had just finished unpacking I thought. The house was done, what more could he possibly want done? "Here daddy" I called as I walked into the lounge room where he was standing. "Isn't it nice here, just you and me and this wonderful new house", "But you know what would be even better?" "Um, some paint maybe?" I thought as his smile became wider.

"If we gave the house a little present of our own, hmm?", "but I didn’t buy the house a present, you didn't tell me to buy it one either", I said with a frown upon my face. As he turned around, my face turned white. That was when I knew what he was talking about. I began to walk backwards “No Lucy, we could give the house a present of our own, sort of like a little show", he said with a smirk. Grabbing my arm he pulled me onto the floor. It went for ages and time didn't seem to pass too quickly, as he moaned I could hear it echoed through the house. I held back my tears and pinched my leg, which was what I always did. He pulled up his jeans, walked into his bedroom and closed the door.

I felt dirty; it felt like I was covered in dirt, it sickened me. But I didn’t think to do anything at the time. It didn’t feel right. I went to have a shower and the fear of what had just happened played in my head. Every night this happened, this torment. I would have a shower and scrub myself from head to toe sometimes making my skin bleed with red, as I could smell his scent all over me, it wouldn't come off, and he had marked me. I was his.

Today I went to the hospital. Daddy had beaten me that much before I went to school that I had a concussion and collapsed at school. This was the third day I was here. It is better than being at home because daddy is being really nice to me and buying me presents and cards saying get well soon and I hope you get better. I asked the nurse how long I’d be in here for but she said she didn't know.

Chapter 4

It was my 16th birthday. No one seemed to care. No cards. No presents. Nothing. Not even a Happy Birthday Jane. Nothing. I lie in bed and look at the clock, it was 9.00am. I wasn’t to upset. This isn’t the first time that this has happened. And the sad part was, I had no friends to share my joy with, not that it was much joy. I just regretted the moment when daddy was to wake up. All week he has brought me flowers and chocolates. I didn’t take much notice of his weird behaviour, nor did I care. He was giving me attention. Me and not brother. Finally I felt like I was fitting into this family for once.

Flashed memories appeared in my mind as I looked outthe window of the school bus. Memories of me and daddy sitting on the lounge at our old house before he turned into the monster he has become. We used to cuddle under a blanket and watch movies my favourite being Beauty and The Beast. A little tear trickled down my cheek as I walked off the bus and into the gates of school.

I don’t have anywhere to sit. I recently found a nice tree to sit under. I mind my own business. I don’t mess with other kids. I give them what they want so I don’t get into trouble of them, or so trouble doesn’t start. I have seen others who have fought back and suffered miserably. Today wasn’t my day. I was already feeling down and to make things worse one of many school bullies was approaching me. “Get up scab! Come on fight me!” I didn’t like it when they halted me up and started to push me around, but because no one knew me, no one knew what to do. No one. Nothing happened as I got beaten up.

I walked home with a black eye. No one even turned a head, batted an eye lid in my direction. It wasn’t as if it was uncommon for me to have a bruised eye and a split lip. Daddy gave them to me all the times. I had been waiting al week for this so called present to be given to me daddy. I didn’t really think about it to hard because most times his present was just awful and they would remain, scarred, in me forever.

“Now I know it’s your 16th birthday and I have prepared something special for you tonight” he said with a smirk on his face. I was too wrapped up in the excitement and wonders of what this present is going to be. I couldn’t wait. He put his arms around my waist and all happiness flew out of the window. I started crying and struggled to break through his strong grip but every time he tightened his grip and it was getting to the point where it was getting harder for me to breath. He took me into the bathroom and I passed out.

I woke up in a room that I had never seen before. It smelt damp and there were pipes everywhere. I thought that it was the basement but I had never seen a basement or even knew that we had a basement before and we had been living in this house for 4 years. There were candles lit around and I was already beginning to feel sick as I could picture all the things that he was going to do to me. I still couldn’t see properly. Not only was it dark but my eyes were blurry to and my head started to thump. He must have hit me with something on my head I thought.

Against the wall which was a fare few metres away from where I was sitting upright against the wall were three figures. I could barely hear them talking as their voices were all muffled. They came up towards me and I could only give out who one of them where. It was daddy. I could smell his perfume that he wore. I could always distinctively recognise it. He always wore it, and when he was done ‘making love’ it would stay on me, forever lingering.

They grabbed me and flung me onto the bed where they stripped me bare and began to please themselves with different techniques. I tried to scream but only to hear nothing. My mouth had been stuffed with something soft and it had been tied around my head. My hands were bound and before long my feet were set free. Only to feel like everything was going to break. It hurt yet I could not tell them to stop. They took pictures and made me dress up. I knew they were doing it on purpose and this was the time that I had thought about long enough to realise that maybe I should have done something, should have told someone about this. If I make it out alive, I could never have the courage to do it.

I could never tell anyone of what had happened. Not only was I getting threatened but I was getting abused and I most certainly didn’t want to die. Not yet. I wanted children and a nice happy family. I thought of happy thoughts as the past 2 hours pasted slowly. They were tired but I knew they would be back for more otherwise they wouldn’t have put me down here. I awoke to see the darkness once again I couldn’t tell how long I had been in here, where I was, or if it was day or light. They had removed the sock like thing from mouth only to promise them I wouldn’t make a sound when they were there and when they were gone.

I kept my word. Who was I to tell anyway? I didn’t see a door, a window anything. It was just darkness. . . . . .




Chapter 5

Looking into his eyes and the other two men on the other side, they did what they wanted to me. Like their little stuffed toy. It felt like I wasn’t even there. I didn’t want to do this anymore and I would plead and plead everyday, every time that they would do this. It hurt me physically, emotionally and I was going insane. I was hungry and though they fed me, I was sick of eating soup everyday. It didn’t end. I just wished it would end.

Today I had a shower for the first time in a long. It was a special occasion. I heard daddy having and argument with someone on the phone last; most likely it was his mobile. It sounded like a women and he wouldn’t tell her where he was and what he was doing but he just kept telling her that he was going to be home later he just had to finish what he started. It sickened me. What made me so great? What made him turn this way, to his own daughter.? Though the questions that I kept asking myself were never going to come out of my mouth I was too exhausted.

As he finished I could feel them untangling my feet. Finally! I thought as they stood me up against the wall. The all took turns at beating me. First with a stick then with a can. Last was with the bat. As I felt myself crumble to the ground I didn’t think. I only thought of mummy, of what it was like before daddy became the way he was. As I feel I felt a quiet smile come across to my face. This is it. This is my time. Fallen to the ground in silence.


Chapter 6

3 months later on a call to the local police station about a suspicious smell coming from the floor boards of a house that a family had just brought, it came to there attention that they had to investigate. After pulling up the floor boards to where the stench was coming from they found a little cellar. Down there, there was a red room, covered in child pornography and photos of a young girl in her early teenage years. She was found on the floor, rotted, her hands were still bonded together.
Blood soaked the bed and all over the concrete floor. They examined the body and to their surprise there were little incisions carved into the arm of the girl. Jane Ruphus it read. Smart and yet very useful she had carved her name into her own arm. It was faint but with the forensics help they soon found the father and set charge to him. He pleaded guilty to many accounts of rape, kidnapping and abandoning of a child under the age of 18. He also put forward the names of the two other men that were involved in that incident the night of Jane’s birthday. Her mother committed suicide in their early home after hearing the news.