Dixons Never Cry |TWD|

Daddy, You're Hurting Me

I was sat on the stained beige carpet of our small shabby house. The small TV was playing quietly on the tall and dirty wooden oak TV stand. It was talking about an illness or something, that was really bad in Europe. I wasn't paying too much attention.

I was leaning against the coffee table, colouring with some broken crayons on a piece of paper from school. Our homework was to draw something we love. I was drawing my older brothers, Daryl and Merle.

I loved both of my brothers, but I was especially close with Daryl. Daryl was quieter and more kind than Merle. Merle was loud and sometimes he was a little rude to me, but only if he was drunk or he had been taking those weird bags of white dust, or the pills.

One time, when I was really little, 4 years old, Merle had left the pills out and I thought they were candy from when Daryl got me some, so I ate them, but they weren't. They made me hurt and I had to go to hospital, and someone called CPS did an investigation, and I went to a care home for 2 weeks before I could return home.

I was nearly finished drawing Merle when I heard an engine outside. I looked at my battered wristwatch I found in a skip a few weeks ago, working and everything. It's 17:04 PM. Merle's probably out drinking, and Daryl's only been hunting for 40 minutes at least, and Daryl usually hunts for an hour or so. The door bursts open, startling me, and Daddy stands there.

His brown hair is greasy and there's stubble on his face. His eyelids are droopy, and he stinks of beer. There's also beer stains and other unknown stains on his once pristine white vest. His jeans and boots are dirty, but they always are anyway.

"The hell aren't you at school?" he snapped angrily, slamming the door shut, causing me to flinch, "When I ask ya a question I s'pect you to answer me, girl!"

"School-school finished an hour ago, sir," I stumbled over my words. Daddy's stilling glaring at me with his Dixon blue eyes, before yanking the paper from the table, crumbling it.

"The hell is this? You steal this from school?!" he yelled. I stood up in fear, in case things got out of hand, I could make a run for it. I wouldn't get far, maybe across the yard before he caught me. I'm very short and scrawny for my age, 7 years old.

"It's homework, I swear, Daddy, I didn't steal it! Honest!" I said worriedly and Daddy's face turned into one of those creepy smiles, before he dropped the piece of paper, walking past me. I quickly picked it up and tried to straighten out the lines, as Daddy grunts, sitting down on his chair in front of the TV. He switches it off.

"Come 'ere and sit on Daddy's lap, Marina," said Daddy, using my full name. Daryl and Merle call me Marnie, and Marina if I'm in trouble. I hesitated.

"I gotta finish this homework, Daddy," I said fearfully. He grinned, showing his rotten teeth, most of which were missing.

"Come on, honey. Ya can do your homework afta ya tell Daddy 'bout your day." he said. I nodded and walked over to Daddy. At least he was being nice. Daddy lifted me onto his lap with ease, where I sat there uncomfortably, and this didn't go unnoticed by him.

"What're ya nervous fer? I'm ya daddy, no needa be nervous 'round me," said Daddy. I smiled at him, showing my pearl white baby teeth.

"You know...you got yer momma's smile. And hair. You look so much like her, so beautiful," complimented Daddy, staring at my features.

"Really?" I asked happily. I've never met my momma. She died when I was only a baby, our house burned down to smithereens. Daryl was with me at the store, and Merle and Daddy were out drinking probably.

"Yeah, she's be proud, she would. You're beautiful, Marnie, just like yer momma," said Daddy, this time he took his rough hand but gentle stroked my hair, going down my bare arm, making me get goosebumps.

"Can I go back to my homework now, Daddy?" I asked kindly, not wanting to upset him, but I didn't like this situation, "Yer TV show is starting 'round 'bout now."

"I don't care 'bout that. I just wanna be with my lil girl." he said creepily, placing his hand on my shorts and bare legs. I didn't like it so I began squirming.

"Daddy, I don't like that," I said uncomfortable, a look of displeasure on my small face. My sky-blue eyes were wide with fear as Daddy gripped me tighter.

"Daddy, I don't like it," I said, tears filling my eyes. Daddy glared at me.

"Shut the hell up, you ungrateful bitch. Can't ya see I'm jus' bein' nice?" he yelled angrily, spit flying out of his mouth. I flinched at the sudden loudness, although I was used to his outbursts by now.

"But you're hurtin' me--" I started, but Daddy yelled, throwing me from his lap and onto the floor. I hit my head on the corner of the coffee table, but I didn't black out. My head was pounding with pain, and it didn't help with the fact that he began yelling and throwing profanities, all while kicking me with his large, heavy boots.

"Daddy..." I coughed, spluttering blood. He stopped kicking, and I could hear shouting, but I couldn't concentrate. The voices were slightly muffled, but I recognised the person fighting with Daddy. It was Daryl. The room became silent and I felt someone lift my head up gentle.

"Yer gonna be all righ', baby girl," said Daryl, and I felt him pick me up. I couldn't answer as black dots filled with vision, and darkness consumed me.

[WORD COUNT: 993]