My Daddy Kills People (My 3rd Original Creepypasta)

Daddy? This is what you've been hiding from me?

I was still 6 years old when I asked Daddy the next day where Mommy was. He said that she had to go on a business trip and she would be gone for a while. I believed him at the time. I missed her.....When I turned 8, my daddy had a special present for my birthday. He bought me a dress. I opened the package and I saw a beautiful spring dress. It had a white shirt sleeved shirt under a blue plaid, tank top dress, with a set of beautiful polished black shoes. I ran up to bedroom to try them on. I ran back downstairs twirling in my new dress. Daddy said I looked like a princess. Remember how I said that daddy told me mommy was on a business trip? Well, I eventually found out he was lying. I was at the park and I was swinging on the swing when I saw something in the trash can. A fresh newspaper. I rolled my eyes as I picked it up. I went back over to the swing, in my new dress and shoes and I saw the front page. I gasped. I saw a picture of mommy and it said in big letters: BREAKING NEWS: WOMAN FOUND BRUTALLY MURDERED: STILL LOOKING FOR MURDERER.

I began crying as it began to rain. I dropped the newspaper and sat on the swing, hands in my lap. When I looked up all the kids were gone and I was left alone. I continued to sit there, knowing mommy was never coming back. I stood up and began walking home, head facing the ground. When I was 10, I found something that scared me. I was left home alone while daddy was at work. I remembered that daddy told me never to go down to the basement. But, curiosity killed the cat for me. I opened the door to the basement. I turned on a flashlight and began walking down the creaky stairs. I held my nose as something smelled putrid! I walked downstairs and turned to my right where the smell was coming from. I dropped my flashlight and began screaming bloody murder. I saw mommy.....dead in a poll of her own crimson liquid. Her right eye was gone and her clothes were torn. Her pretty crimson red hair was stained in blood. Her right eye was in her hand that laid dead on the ground. Her other arm was over her stomach as her hand as well was covered in blood. I fell to my knees and began sobbing hysterically. Wait? Did.....daddy do this?

When I was 14, I was in middle school and dad was treating me differently than he used to. I felt heartbroken because he expected me to be perfect. The perfect daughter for him. Why can't I be the best I WANT to be? Why!? I had no friends and I was a bit of an emo at the time. The last time I remembered my dad not treating me like I had to meet his pathetic expectations was when we were talking a walk together in the summer. He held my hand as we walked and I felt happy with my father. My wardrobe had dramatically changed since my childhood days. I had brown hair still and baby blue eyes, but that was mostly hidden by my black eyeliner and hair. I had shoulder length hair and I had beautiful bangs. I normally had my bangs cover my right eye. I normally wore hoodies but my favorite outfit was as follows: My favorite black tennis shoes, blue jeans with colorful patches here and there. I wore a black spiked belt with it and I wore a red and black striped long sleeved hoodie. See? Told you I was a bit of an emo. But, here's where my life changed. I went downstairs to the basement in my favorite outfit so I could pay respect to mom. But, I was caught by dad. He yelled at me and grabbed me by the back of the neck. I kicked and struggled, but it was no use. He made me face him as he yelled: "Bad girls like you must be punished!" He punched me, knocking me out cold. When I woke up, I was sitting on the concrete with my legs to the side. My hands were tied behind my back and I couldn't see. A blindfold? I was growing more terrified by the second. I could feel a cold wall on my back, letting me know that I was still in the basement. I struggled against my bonds but it was no use. I knew I couldn't escape. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and towards me.

"Hello, Martha. Have you been a good girl?" It was my dad.

"Daddy! Why are you doing this to me!?"

"I've warned you never to come down here!"

"I came down here to mourn mom's death!"