The Black Widow Queen

One

"Tara!?" A hollow growl of what used to be a human beacons me down from my room. "Get your stupid ass down here, young lady!"

I numbly stumble down the stairs, frighten for whats about to take place.

With a slight peek down the stair well I spot my father raging red, glaring up at me from the living room area.

"Yes father?" I squeak.

"Get down here! And what did I tell you about referring to me with such vain! I am not the father of such a retched being thrown on me by satan." His voice bubbling with annoyance, with the slight slurping of alcohol.

His clothes torn, the dark brown of his hair shovelled in several directions. Glasses hang off his nose, the deep stench of beer emanates from him.

With slow movements, I shuffle to stand before him.

"S-sorry..." My words muffled as my head bows, I stand barely three feet before him.

"Shut up!" His voices bounces from the walls, penetrating my young frail heart. "Now, why has my laundry not been done and folded in my dresser, as I asked?"

I can hear his breathing deepen, quietly I tense waiting for what's about to happen.

"I told you to do that three hours ago!" Swiftly I hear his footstep come closer, soon I find myself lying five feet away on the cold hard wood floor.

A burning pain devours half my face, warm liquid pours from my nose. Ringing rises in my ears, my whole head feeling as though it's ready to rupture. I lay still, waiting.

"You stupid whore. I don't know why I keep you around." His voice barely an echo over the high pitch ringing.

Just then a deep pain jabs my stomach, bashing my insides against each other. Searing and boiling my stomach aches with hits repeatedly tearing my insides.

Hot tears run from my eyes, trying to escape the harsh words of my father. I can hear his voice faintly in the background of my mind. Tearing my heart apart, piece by piece. My whole body enveloped in an itching pain.

The strikes stop as I clench my eyes shut, and curl in a ball. Holding my legs right to my chest.

I can feel the blood still pouring from my nose and irritating the stinging skin of my face.

Suddenly the angry curses of my father halter. Being replaced with a deep throaty laugh, burrowing deep in my burning ears.

The ground bellow me disappears, replaced with the tight grip of two strong hands. A whimper slips from my lips.

"Was that a whimper? Is this not enough punishment for sweet little Tara?" I can feel his terrible grin watching me behind my curtain of hair.

Without another word I feel my father walking to the basement stairs.

No...please...

With a satisfied laugh my body is thrown. Crashing into strong wooden steps, jabbing and crushing what's left of my bruised body. Slivers catch my clothing and exposed skin. Deep pain covers my body as I keep falling down and down, farther and farther into the dark basement.

Holding in my screams, I hold my head in my hands. Attempting to protect what's left of my head. Finally I come to a stop, lying still on the cement floor. My body but a lump of bruises and cuts.

Still laughing, I hear my father slam the door and go back to watching tv.

A rush of tears cover my face, warm and salty. Washing away minimal bits of dried blood. With quiet sobs I lay in the dark, welcoming sleep to take me away.