-3rd pov-
TW: FEAR, ABUSE, PTSD, FLASHBACKS, TRAUMA
The days spent alone in the house were confusing to daisy mae. She dreaded his return, but simultaneously knew that he was her only source of supplies from outside, including food.
He had an old friend of his check in on daisy each day three times a day, who made sure she was kept in line, and still trapped inside the house.
Though one would think she took this crumb of freedom and enjoyed herself, she did not. She had nobody to talk to, nowhere to go, and absolutely nothing to do but chores and bathing. When Elton was away, he shut off all power, so the house was dark as soon as the sky was, leaving her with only short hours of daylight to do things.
The house rested now in utter silence, not even the whirring of fans filled the thick quiet. Newspapers formed a mound outside the door, and the mailbox was now stuffed full of letters and packages, with nobody to retrieve them.
A week passed, and wild animals began to congregate on the untouched front lawn, seeing as nobody had left the house in many days. She worriedly checked the pantry and the cupboards to reassure herself that there was enough food to last her for a good amount longer.
Daisy peeked out the single window, her blue eyes filled with worry as she looked out at empty roads, the orange haze of sunset falling over them. She didn't hope to see him again, but likewise, she didn't hope to be abandoned.-daisy's pov-
I leaned back against the wall with a shaky breath as I looked at the sky's deepening orange hues, signifying the coming darkness of the night.
I dreaded night now for different reasons. With no power in the house, and no candles or matches in sight, the house became pitch dark once the sun was fully set. Like most little kids, I had always had an intense fear of the dark, however, quite unlike most little kids, I never overcame it.
My father's attempts at forcing me out of the childish and irrational fear only really made it worse, as he would throw me into the cold, dark basement, locking me in there. He would do it for punishment, usually paired with beatings, but sometimes he would do it for no particular reason.
Of course, when I got a little older I realized that he really didn't care about my fear of the dark, and that he only wanted to punish me in a way that would really get to me. It was quick, simple, and pleasing to him. But it was none of that to me.
As an adult now I have to admit I'm ashamed of my crippling fear of the dark. But deep down, when I thought of what roles darkness played in my childhood, I understood that it was a fear that I would carry with me for the rest of my life, no matter what.~flashback. 1914 (age 6)~
-3rd pov (flashback)-
Daisy maes blood-curdling screams filled the farmhouse, the kind of screams that tap into sometimes deep inside. Those awful children's screams, those screams that any mother, or motherly person dreads. She tugged with all her six-year-old might, yanking and pulling at the large fist around her small wrists.
With all her weight she dropped as if playing dead, dragging on the floor, digging her feet into the hardwood, but despite her efforts, she was simply dragged.
She kicked her legs out, flailing in her sorry attempts to escape. She put up the best fight she could, but soon, it seemed she had gone on too long."Stop fuckin' screaming goddamnit!" slurred her father, hoisting her into the air by her long blonde hair.
Daisy screamed and yelped in pain, her stomach turning and aching from the horrible pain on her scalp. Her father held firmly to her hair, dangling the young child over the dark staircase below.
"If you were actin' right I wouldn't 'hafta do this shit to you!" he yelled, slightly stumbling as he made his way down the creaky stairs.
She tried to rest body weight on him, feeling as if her skin would peel right off her skull like velcro if she dangled there any longer.
With a heavy arm, he pushed her away, dropping her onto the floor as he stepped off the last stair. Her head throbbed in burning pain."No daddy please!" she shrieked, crawling across the cold concrete and grabbing his legs.
She clung tightly to her father's leg, her small body shaking violently in terror. She was blinded by her fear and desperation, willing to do anything to escape the looming darkness behind her.
"Don't grab me, psycho bitch! Get the hell off!" shouted her father, shaking his leg.
He leaned on the wall for support, daisy still glued to his leg.
"I said get off!" he yelled, and with a forceful kick, flung the little girl nearly across the cellar.
Daisy slid across the floor, her skin skidding across the hard ground, scraping any skin it came in contact with. She gasped out for air, fighting desperately to breathe after the wind had been knocked out of her.
She choked and sputtered for some time before taking in a small breath of air at last, breathing again. Her father, who was already at the top of the stairs looked down at her. She looked up at him, on her hands and knees, her scraped hands on the last step.
Her eyes begged him to let her out, pleaded with him not to punish her, but he looked back at her with drunken disdain. He looked down at young daisy mae as if she was a disease-ridden rat, bloated and oozing with horrid pus and fluid.
He looked at her like a pitiful being, a worthless creature that made no good impact on life, like an utterly colossal mistake. The door slammed behind her father's large figure, shutting out the dim beam of light into the cellar with the sound of a lock.
Unable to make out the stairs in the vast darkness, she crawled slowly to the corner nearest her, contorting herself into the tightest ball she could. Her body hurt, and her stomach bubbled and gurgled.
She shuttered with sobs and shook in horror as the darkness consumed the damp room. The empty cellar echoed back to her the sounds of her crying, and only the sounds of her crying filled the room.
It was blacker than black, the kind of darkness that forces your mind to make up visions in it. A darkness so intense that you couldn't hold a hand out in front of you and be able to see it.
In the dark nightmare of her punishment, daisy soon lost any concept of time, unsure of how long she might have been locked away, but it felt like it had been longer than eternity. Her sore body begged for sleep, but the fear entrapping her refused.
She was hungry, and thirsty, but had no food, and no way of knowing when she might have some. The room was so dark, so quiet, the thick concrete walls absorbing any sounds she made.
She felt hidden away in damnation to a universe that was nothing but complete darkness, so far isolated from the world that she knew that god himself couldn't hear her cries.~end of flashback, modern time, daisies pov~
I shook the memories of darkness from my head the best I could, after all, it was the only thing I could do.
It was strikingly similar, my life now, to that dark, dingy cellar. My stomach ached at the thought. I was alone, even with Elton, he never helped. I too had little way of keeping up with the passing of time, isolated so harshly from the world around me.
I was tired, I was hungry, I was weak. My body ached generously each day and each night without fail, and my fears engulfed me. But possibly the most similar thing about then, and about now, is my isolation from god.
I felt deep down like Elton had hidden me away so well, even god couldn't find me. With that thought brought others, I wondered if I was simply too messed up, damaged beyond the restorative powers of god.
I wondered if I was so much a lost cause that no holy being could find me for any reason. Or maybe, I thought, I was so sinful in my ways, that even the crucifixion of Jesus Christ didn't wash me of my sins.
I wondered if maybe, I had sinned past the point of redemption, and that was the reason all the good in life rejected me, because even god turned his back on me.
But even then I was a bad Christian to think so. I suppose, I had never loved him well enough to receive his saving grace in my soul and in my life.
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sweet tea. -tkam
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