Nelly and Sam

Past 11

Nelly and her dad had always been tight-knit.  

In 8th grade, she chose him over Christie for Take Your Kid to Work Day, and he wowed her class, charmed everyone with his tips and his tricks and his jokes. And Nelly was proud. Proud to call the well-known comedian her father, proud that he would take time off from his busy schedule to satisfy his daughter's needs.

But like every man, Paul needed his needs to be satisfied too.

The first time, she was seven.

Sitting wrapped in her Disney blanket in her dimly lit room, Nelly was getting ready for bed. 

He used the excuse of tucking her in, then he read her a bedtime story, and when she still resisted sleep, he crawled in with her. 

"I'll help you fight off the monsters." Was his claim. And she giggled. And he smiled. And when her body went limp with fatigue, and her eyes gave in, he staked his claim. 

It wasn't anything too serious, too deep. She was unconscious but it was only over her prepubescent breasts and, besides, she would've been too confused to make sense of it. 

When she reached the ripe age of eleven, Nelly would be caught playing with her dolls in strange, compromising situations. Christie inquired about it once and, to her horror, her daughter's response was simply, "I'm making my dolls fuck."

Her initial reaction was to quickly punish the little girl, put her on timeout, that'll teach her. But punishment could only hold weight for so long, and you can only deliberately fail to spot the telltale signs of wounding in a child so many times. 

Nelly was spiraling and she didn't even know it. 

And when she experienced her first Sex Ed class, first-handedly witnessed 'The Talk,' only to find that she was being touched in the most ungodly manner, Nelly sobbed the most painful sob, filled with anguish and shame and confusion and loneliness.

Alienation.

She began to act out.