Im the daughter...of Tony Perry?!

Cause you dont know me

/Delilahs POV/

I felt cold and everything was, quiet. No annoying monitors beeping everytime I pumped blood through my body or pestering doctors touching my face and telling each other the samething over and over but in different ways. It was just, peace. There was nothing. I felt like I was nothing, not even in space nor time.

All of a sudden, a door appeared in front of me.

It was a familiar looking door, the red paint pealing away as the edges of the wood crack and chip away. The numbers 693 were hammered into the door with small sliver nails. I reached out to the small brass knob and twisted it, hearing the door click before swinging open.

Oh god, please no.

It was my old house.

And at the foot of the stairs was the cause of all my problems.

"Hello Delilah," Roger greeted, his voice chilling me to the bone along with his shark tooth grin. I was frozen, feeling my heart beat eradically in my chest but the blood going nowhere but back to its base. I still find myself inside my old home and feel the wind from the door as it slams behind me and locks. It was just the beast and I.

"Hi Roger," I hissed at him, suddenly finding confidence in realization. This was my dream, which means im in control. I knew this was a drugged dream so it usually brings out the horrors hiding in your brain but its still just a dream. He couldnt hurt me here...right?

"Ouch, I feel hurt D. I truly feel hurt. After all, Im your dad. I raised you, clothed you, loved you. This is how you repay me?"

"You did nothing but beat me like the drunken douchebag you are. It was all because mom died wasnt it? What was it? Did I remind you of her too much? Did you think you could beat the resemblemce outta me? Or was it cause you were terrified to be left alone with a kid?" I spit the quesitions at him. He didnt flinch back or even change his face any, just continued his icey stare at me. I dont even know why im asking a dream figure about this, maybe Im just craving the answers I already know.

" And you think that tattooed moron can take care of you? You think he loves you? You think any of them love you? You and I both know no ones actually going to love you anymore. Your broke, useless, nothing. Not even Jack comes around as much as he did, doesnt he? Oh, speaking of Jack. Jack!" he calls up the stairs behind him, into the black shadows where I know Jacks true form awaits.

click click click

The sound Jacks boots make coming down the wooden steps, making my heart stop and start like its breaking down. No no no, not this Jack. This Jack was crueler than reality Jack. That Jack was just crazy and mean. Compared to this Jack, reality Jack was a basket of puppies on a rainbow.

"Hello dear," Jack greeted me with a wicked smile, stepping into the light.

Oh god, he looks worse than before. His hair was short and spikey, sticking up in a mohawk that was black as night. His one eye pierced both mine, making me feel like I should beg for mercy and forgiveness. I dont remember why my brain ever made him with one eye, he was terrifying enough with two. His sharp canine teeth shone at me from the light above, making them sparkle just like a regular smile would. His firece black nails glisented as he locked them behind his neck and gazed me up and down. I felt like prey to his predator and I know thats how he saw me. It was like on the nature shows where the lion has its eyes locked on its prey and is planning how they are going to devour it. Quick and painless, or slow and agonizing.

"Jack," I state coldly, keeping my head held high and eyes straight forward. He smiled at me and walked closer, sticking his hand out to touch my jaw. I stiffened as I felt his cold dead hands caress my throat and down my neck to my collarbone. His nose pressed against the side of my neck, inhaling my scent in deeply, giving me goosebumps. I take in a sharp breathe when I feel his hand slide up the other side of my neck and his lips press against my throat.