Carnival Lights

1

Age 16

"You little bitch!" my father bellowed, smacking my face. I didn't dare cry. "You dare tell me to stop? I'm pleasuring you, you little priss!" SMACK! Another slap.

"Daddy! Stop! I don't want you to do this! It's rape!" I cried. Yeah. That's right. My dad is raping me. Big fucking whoop. No one cares about me. No ever has.

"Shut up, Jenna," he screamed. He laid me on the bed, not gently. More like a sack of potatoes he didn't want to hold anymore.

He positioned himself between my legs. "Dad, stop." I cried. "Somebody help!" I knew it was no use. My bruised, naked, broken body lay there, helplessly.

My dad sneered, and then thrusted himself into me. I screamed, trying to get someone's attention. No one ever came.

Thrust after thrust, he raped me, and all I did was take it. I could feel his nasty cum splurt into me. It was slimy and gross.

He dismounted me, and left the room. I lay there, crying, helpless. I couldn't do anything about all this anyway.

"Jenna! Where is my box of donuts?!" I hear my mother yell. I get up, put in my only ragged shirt and my torn jeans. I grabbed the empty donut box from my floor and went downstairs. My mother stood at the bottom of them, tapping her foot.

"Here," I retort and throw it at her. "I got hungry. Maybe you should feed me once in a while."

She ran up the stairs, and I followed suit. I ran into my barely safe bedroom and shoved the door shut, locking it behind me. I sank to the floor, years flowing freely. This was my daily routine. Wake up, go to school, come back, steal food, eat, have my nasty father sexually abuse me, then have my mother come after me because I choose to live.

It's not like I asked for this life. This life asked for me personally. Yeah laugh all you want, but I'm serious.

The door gave a loud thud, and I flipped over. "Open the door you slut!" my father hollered. I didn't dare. "You steal food from us? nobody gave you permission to eat you little bitch!"

I stood, and went over to my cracked mirror. The only makeup I had was tons of concealer and foundation I hid from them so that I can hide my bruises. My greasy matted brown hair cascaded around me in clumps. My left eye was swollen and bruised. In fact the right eye was worse. You couldn't even tell they were brown. I took the shirt off to examine the damage done.

I had a twig body. My ribs showed. I counted them. I could see one more than last week. My small breasts were saggy and bruised. There was a bruise on my side. On my stomach. Everywhere.

"When I turn eighteen," I say in a shaky voice, "I'm getting out of here. Far away from here. And I won't ever come back. Ever." I fell to the floor, tears inching down my face. "I'll take Ellie with me. We'll be happy again. I-"

A wretched scream interrupted my thoughts. Ellie, my brain automatically snapped. I threw my shirt back on and ran down the hall and to my daughters room. It was mine and my dads daughter. I was first raped at fourteen and gave birth at fifteen. I named her Eleanor Marie. I didn't dare want my dad to be her dad, so I told them the father was my best friend, Evan. I was never allowed to see him again. And he never knew why.

I looked in her empty crib, and turned around. There was my mother, holding my baby. She smiled a sick and twisted smile. Ellie continued to Cry.

"Put my baby down." I warned her through gritted teeth. She held up my precious girl.

"You mean this one?" She said, her voice like honey. Slick and too damn sweet.

"Mom.. Give the baby to me. She's innocent. I'm the one you want. So here I am. Take it out on my. Not my baby. anything but my baby..." I tried to sooth her like I normally do. A calm voice. My mom usually listens when I do. But this time.. I don't seem so sure.