Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
I called him Daddy - 1. I called him Daddy
Once upon time I called him Daddy
He was supposed to take care of me.
May it be, I’d be happy and fulfilling so.
It all started with a game. I was five, more than merely alive.
I was the spunk in the funk that made every heartbeat.
Cute, handsome, and proudly strong and mighty.
‘Run around naked if you want son.’ It all had started.
It was a farce and a cause for such serious alarms.
How was I to know that someone that was to love me so, would take it further, I was too young to know.
I was five, more than merely alive.
I was the spunk in the funk that made every heartbeat.
I would bring a smile, my silliness made it all worthwhile.
Or, so I’d hear from my dear mom.
On a cold December night, asleep in my bed, barely awake, and barely dead.
A cold hand upon my shoulder, a brush against my head, and an ‘I love you son,’ echoed into my ear, and throughout my head.
I can only say that I was terrified that the boogieman had come.
Again, I was only five, and merely alive.
I was the spunk in the funk that made every heartbeat.
In the darkness I swore I heard a whimper.
It stuck in the air, deep and quick, more like a dog gasping for air.
My pants removed, quickly and swift, with a sharp pain in my rear to swiftly persist.
I can only gasp, and cry out of fear.
When his ass was finished, he spoke into my ear. “You tell no one, no one ever, I’ll hurt your mom, and then I’ll hurt you.”
I was only five, and merely alive.
I was the spunk in the funk that made every heartbeat.
How was I to know that the one that was to love me so, would do these things just to hurt me.
Now I’m eighteen and I hate his ass so. Many years of abuses and now I’m a hallow shell.
To say it never hurt, would ultimately be a lie.
I would rather die.
But because of his sick hatred, his evil intentions, I’ll live this life for every best intention.
I’ll teach, and I’ll pray, and I’ll live this life knowing that he was the evilest fucker to ever live.
I was only five, and merely alive.
I was the spunk in the funk that made every heartbeat.
And because of that sick fuck. I’ll live, pray, and know that this life is worth living.
Today, tomorrow, forever morrow. I’ll have my vengeance.
- 6
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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