Izabel stood in front of the window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. The rain falling from the darkened sky matched the tears flowing from her midnight eyes. Sobbing softly, Izabel stared out into the starless night. The sound of footsteps trudging up the stairs caused Izabel to cry more, for she knew what was about to happen. As on cue, there was a knock on her bedroom door.
"Honey are you awake?" the drunk voice asked, "It's only me, I just wanna talk." he whined, testing the doorknob. Izabel had locked the door this time, she was at her breaking point.
"Izzy, why do you have the door locked? I only want to talk. Come open the door for Daddy." the voice pleaded. For the last three years since her mother died, her father made her assume the roll of wife, in every sense of the word. He made her cook for him, clean the house, and even made her have sex with him. She couldn't take it anymore. The way he forced her to take his penis in her mouth, his angry thrusts into her dry vagina, not to mention the hurtful words and names he called her.
"Please dadddy, go away. I can't do this anymore. Please daddy...stop..please!" she cried.
"Aw, c'mon baby, daddy needs his babygirl to take care of him. Open the door, sweetie, I promise not to hurt you." he whined, still turning the doorknob.
"No more daddy..please no more!" she sobbed, crawling into a ball in the corner of her room.
Suddenly the door was viciously kicked open. Her father stood there in all his druken glory, his hand still holding a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
"Listen here bitch, you don't tell me what to do! Unnerstand?!" he spat, yanking her up by her blue-black hair.
"PLEASE DADDY!" she cried hysterically. "NO MORE! NO MORE!"
Her cries where cut short by a vicious backhand across her face, drawing blood from the corner of her mouth.
"Shut up! You're gonna do as I say!" he yelled, throwing her on the bed. He grabbed her thighs hard, leaving red handprints in his wake. Forcing them open, he positioned himself between her flailing legs.
"Sit still or else I'm really gonna punish you!" he hissed in her ear as he thrust his penis into her vagina. The room was filled with the sounds of his grunts and her sobbing. Soon he was climaxing, jerking his semen over her stomach.
"Oh-oh my good little girl..." he moaned, collapsing on her stomach. Gathering his strength, he climbed off of her and staggered out of the room. Izabel curled up in the fetal position, sobbing.
"Please take me to where the angels sleep. Please take me to where the rainbow ends. Please take me to where I long to see old friends. Take me now to where the angels sleep." she whispered between sobs. The prayer that her mother continuously mumbled during her last days when, the pain was too much to bear, she had begged for death to come.
Izabel woke up early the following morning. She tiptoed into the bathroom, careful not to wake her father from his drunken sleep. Standing underneath the scalding water of the shower, she quickly scrubbed away the traces of her father. She roughly scrubbed her skin until she was raw. But the pain was nothing new to her, since she constantly scrubbed her skin that way after her father paid her a visit. Quickly she dried off her chestnut skin, slightly rosy from her shower. The cool lotion she rubbed on her body soothed any remaining irritation she was feeling. Slipping into her black panties, bra and matching stockings, she pulled over her customary black gown. With trembling fingers, she laced the front of her gown and smoothed down the crushed velvet material. Stepping into her scuffy platform boots, she snuck back into the bathroom. Applying black eyeliner and purple lipstick, she parted her blue-black locks down the middle, braiding a single braid on each side. Grabbing her worn leather jacket, she crept out of the house, shutting the door on her father's snores.
"Good morning Izzy, you're in rather early today." Claire said.
"I know Ms. Claire, but I have some work that I need to finish up." Izabel softly spoke. Claire was the owner of the bookstore that became Izabel's refuge.
"Not a problem. You are always welcomed here. Actually, I'm glad you came early."
"Why is that Ms. Claire?"
"Because I have to run some errands and I don't have anyone to watch the store while I'm gone. You think you can hold the fort down? There's fifty dollars in it."
"I don't know Ms. Claire." she hesitantly replied.
"Oh you can do it Izzy. You've seen me putter around this store to enough to know how things work and there's no one else I trust. Plus you know about the books. Will you do it?" Izabel thought for a moment.
"Sure Ms. Claire. I'll do it." she smiled.
"Oh my,Izzy." Claire gasped.
"What is it Ms. Claire?"
"This is the first time I've seen you smile. You have such a lovely smile." she said, clasping her hands. Izabel simply blushed. In a few minutes Claire was off to do her errands, leaving Izabel in the silence she loves. Moment later, the bell chimed as the door was opened. Izabel looked up from her book to see who had came in. He stood about six foot and some change, his long dreadlocks were pulled back into a ponytail tied with a purple scarf. His lean figure was clad in black slacks and a turtleneck that peeked out the top of his midnight blue blazer.
"Excuse me, divine one, but might you direct me to the art section." his deep voice said.
"Um, it's the third aisle to the left." she whispered.
