PG-13

"You want to come over this weekend?" It was an innocent question. I had never been to Mackenzie's house before.

“Sure.”

By Friday, it was all set up. I would bring the make-up and dress-up, she would supply the pillows. Sure, I had been to other people’s houses before, but I had never spent the night.

“Remember, all you have to do is call me and I’ll come pick you up,” Mom exclaimed for the 50th time.

Just then, a car pulled up.

“Gotta go! Bye mom!” And I was out the door.

Mackenzie didn’t get out of the car. Is that normal? I asked myself. She waved through the window. I jumped in next to her.

“Hi,” she said rather quietly.

“Hi,” I repeated, trying not to burst from excitement. I looked to the driver’s seat. Her dad looked at me through the rear-view mirror. He didn’t say a word.

Mackenzie and I spent the whole car ride talking about all we would do. Mackenzie was acting kind of strange. Then again, she’d been acting strange since she asked me if I wanted to come over. She seemed worried. Maybe she was just nervous.

When we got to her house, her dad grabbed for my bag. His eyes met mine and he smiled a wide, friendly grin. I had this weird feeling in my tummy.

Mackenzie and I did full on make-overs, complete with dress-up. Then we had a fashion show in her living room.

“Where’s your mom? Isn’t she going to watch too?” I asked when only her dad was sitting on the couch.

“Um,” Mackenzie seemed to flinch. “She’s not here.”

“Oh,” I said half-heartedly.

We started the fashion show. We laughed and strutted down the runway. The whole time, I felt like her dad was paying special attention to me.

“So,” Mackenzie’s dad started to say during dinner. “Nikki.” I felt my heart stop for a second as he stared at me. I looked at Mackenzie, but her eyes were on her plate of spaghetti.

“Yeah?” I asked shakily.

“Are you a deep sleeper?”

I hesitated. “I guess so…”

He made a sort of smirk and snicker mixed together. “That’s nice.”

“I’m done!” Mackenzie suddenly announced. “Let’s watch a movie!”

“Ok!” We both ran to get our PJs on.

While we were brushing our teeth, her dad walked into the doorway. He leaned against it. He just stood there, watching us.

We were looking for a movie when we found one that looked really good. It was PG-13.

We were only 8.

Mackenzie asked if we could watch it and he said yes. So we did. But not before a pillow fight.

Later, after we had watched the movie and we cuddled up in the dark, I heard Mackenzie whisper, “Nikki?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t scream, okay? It’ll only make it worse.” I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I agreed anyway. We fell asleep not long after that.

I woke up sometime during the night. I found a horrific sight in front of me.

Him.

Mackenzie’s dad was on top of me. I had no clothes on. He hadn’t realized I woke up. I thought back to what Mackenzie had said. Don’t scream, it’ll only make it worse. Then I thought of the strange way she had been acting. Did she know this was gong to happen? What was happening?

He got situated directly over my body with his own naked body. He looked up. I quickly closed my eyes. I felt him get closer to me. His warm breath reached my face. He kissed me. He French kissed me. Then he grabbed my chest and head as he laid his privet parts on mine. It felt really weird.

Then something happened. I couldn’t help it. I yelped.

He squeezed me and said in a harsh whisper, “Don’t you dare scream.” His breathe was hot. I stared at him in fear. “This is natural.” He pressed down all of his weight on my little body. It hurt.

Something sticky was on my legs. He kept shoving his tongue down my throat. Then he sat up and slapped me. Hard.

I started to cry softly. His hands felt me all over. He shook me, he hit me, he squeezed me in place I didn’t like, and I was shaking in terror.

I looked to the door with desperation. It was open. Mackenzie was standing there watching and crying.

He did something with his privet parts and I gasped. He looked at me with evil eyes. He followed my gaze.

“Mackenzie.” He started to get off me slowly. Mackenzie started to cry harder.

“No! No, Daddy, please!” But it was too late. He grabbed her and ripped her PJs off. They fell onto the floor without making a sound. He slammed her onto the carpet. I laid on the bed and watched him do to Mackenzie what he had done to me.

I felt weak. Helpless. I laid there feeling like I should run, but I couldn’t get up.

But I did.

I got up and ran as fast as I could. I could hear him yelling and chasing me. He was faster than me. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me down. I screamed.

He punched me in my face. My nose started to bleed. I tried to push him away from me. He fought me and won.

I gave up.

“That’s more like it,” he said as I let him touch me.

I saw her above him. Mackenzie was there, with a kitchen knife.

She swung it down to just a foot away from her father’s head, when he turned around. He pushed me away.

I watched Mackenzie and her father fight for the knife.

He won.

He grabbed the knife and pushed her to the ground. He threatened her with the knife and shoved his private part into hers. She fought back, so he brought the knife down.

I watched him slit my friend’s throat. I watched her bleed. I watched him sigh. I watched her die. I watched him come for me.

And then I watched the last thing I would ever see. I watched him shove his privet into mine once again and I watched him tell me goodnight. I died that night.

We were looking for a movie when we found one that looked really good. It was PG-13.

We were only 8.