An agonizing scream tore through the room, with silence following
hastily in its wake, soft as goose down. Looking over her father,
writhing and howling in pain, the remnants of the kitchen knife - broken
off now - opening his chest in an expression of undeniably fluid
crimson. She pulled her skirts up and fled like sparrows before a storm.


Never again was he to do those bad things to her.
Never again would she have to listen.
Never again would she have to lie.

Why, daddy, why?









Inspired by the story of an anonymous friend.



Penned by my hand on the 6th of Lanosian, in the year 126 MA.