Ever since she was little, Jess has been living with her father. A mentally deranged man who has turned to drugs since the tragic death of her mother when she was a child. But not everything is as it seems.
Enter Jason Storms; debonair, rich, badas...
A small, young girl, entered the eerily dark room, hoping her dad could chase away the monsters that she believed were under her bed.
If only she knew, that her monsters would no longer be under with her bed.
"Daddy?"
The little girl called out again, towards the figure sitting at the edge of her parents bed. The figure moved slightly and lifted his head. He stared at the girl silently.
The little girl couldn't see him well, so there was no way for her to see how her father's eyes were blood shot, and his arms were covered in small marks.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
His gruff voice answered her.
"What do you want Jess? Go back to bed."
He didn't want to be bothered. He had recently been told by the police about the death of his wife, and didn't want to be bothered much. He wanted to sink further into despair.
"But daddy, thei-" the small child began.
"I said go to bed."
Now, this man, he was once a good man. He loved his family like no other ever could. Not even he believed what he did next. He denied how much he enjoyed it.
The scared three year old continued to ask her father to chase the monsters from under her bed and out of her dreams, completely oblivious to her fathers condition.
"Daddy ple-" suddenly the 3 year old was on the floor, her father standing over her.
For some reason, the girls face hurt really bad, and she could feel something warm on her lip.
"I said get the fuck out you brat!"
"Daddy why-"
And suddenly, the father lost it. He lost himself. Completely. He became violent towards the poor little one. He screamed, yelled and hit her until she couldn't make a sound.
She couldn't understand. She though as she layer crying silently on the floor. Why was Daddy like this? He was fine yesterday. Maybe, she thought, it was because Mommy wasn't home from work.
Daddy said she was on a long work trip. Maybe when Mommy comes home, Daddy will be okay? Did I do something wrong? Why is Daddy angry?
The little girl lay bruised and battered on the floor, as her father stared down at her. He glowered at her and bent over to picked her up and fling her over his shoulder roughly. He walked towards the girls room, and threw her in the direction of her bed.
"Go to fucking sleep. Don't talk to me or else I'll beat you more. I hate you, you goddamned worthless thing. God you look just like the wench."
He then left the room without making any kind of eye contact with the child he once adored. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe he truly did hate her. The little girl wouldn't ever find out. It's not like it would make a difference in the future.
The little girl burst into tears at the pain she felt. Not all of it was physical. Jess quietly curled up into a ball on her bed and confined weeping as silently as a child could.
"But daddy I'm scared..."
The small girls voice echoed through the deathly silent room, in between her quiet sobs and sniffles.
