The Boy I Found in my Basement

Chapter 7

"Hello, my precious girl. How are you doing this lovely August morning?" He pushed my knotty hair behind my ear. He must have carried me to my bed, as the last thing I can remember is talking to that boy. 

"It's August Daddy?" My voice was soft and timid, croaking slightly. An unbearable pain in my lower abdomen was so strong I couldn't sit up.

"Yes silly girl. You always forgot the funniest things," He chuckled, his already wrinkled forehead creasing heavily.

I was wearing almost nothing under these thin sheets which I was both disturbed by and thankful for. August heat in Florida has always been miserable and last night was no exception. Sweat remained on my forehead as I weakly sat up.

Christopher awoke and pulled himself out of bed and immediately went for the door. My Father coughed loudly. "Oh why good morning Father. I nearly missed both you and my beautiful sister. Good morning Angie." Christopher looked back at me and smiled an Oscar worthy smile. 

I lied my head back down and curled into a ball. Why was my stomach folding itself into origami at this very moment? 

Daddy raised an eyebrow at me. "What on earth has gotten into you little girl? Are you feeling quite well?" I shook my head feverishly.

He patted me on the head and said I could lie down for a bit longer. He also told me that I didn't need to him cook breakfast today. All I had to do for the next hour was feel better, since he had something that he was quite excited to show me.

"What could it be this time?" I thought to myself. After all, last time I was surprised by him I was led into being held hostage in my own basement. Maybe I was being sold into slavery, or perhaps I was being thrown into a time machine so I could go back in time and become his housewife. My stomach started to unfold itself after a while and I decided to get out of bed.

Lucky for me, I was almost completely naked with the door wide open. Daddy looked at my predicament and chortled, while Christopher averted his eyes. My cheeks were the color of fuji apples my mother used to pick every September. I felt vile and dirty. He shouldn't be seeing this; he shouldn't have looked for so long.

The dress was pure white, the color of tropical sea foam and clouds. It was all for me, I was told. I had been given a very special gift and I better be extra careful with it. The layers puffed out widely and my appearance in it was that of a vintage porcelain doll. He pulled my hair back with a blue ribbon made of silk. Now that I no longer looked like a girl of fifteen, I was ready for another day of my life as a prisoner.

Noticing a shelf on the wall I pulled a book from it and sat on the couch. The book was titled The Taming of the Shrew. I remembered a girl in school mentioning it was mind-numbingly dull compared to vampire romance novels but nothing could be more dull then sitting on the ground in a white dress while your father reads the paper. Adding the fact that you are a prisoner of your own home and your father also refuses to seek treatment for any of his apparent mental health issues gives you a tense but also sluggish situation. All was mundane for about an hour when I saw my brother look at me in horror before swiftly turning his head.

It was too late. Father had seen the dress and there was nothing that I could do to save myself. What sort of paddle will he use on me now? Of course the second time I get my period it comes in as a full on flood all over my white dress. 

"How could you little girl? Daddy buys you a pretty dress and you soil it. What do you have to say for your self?" He was enraged, boiling blood tinting his skin red as he lifted me from the couch, most likely so he could paddle me.

"I've never had one before daddy," I whispered what could only be described as a white lie.

"Well then little girl we will have to make sure you never have one again." With those sick words I felt faint. All of his attraction for me felt tense and disgusting but I never thought that in a million years that he would act on it. He restrained my wrists with hand cuffs onto my bed and opened my legs.

"Christopher, have fun boy. My treat to you." My stomach was beyond a simple origami swan at this point and was more like an origami t-rex which could move its stubby arms on its own. Needless to say, I was terrified.

"Father, I simply don't think that I can do such a thing."

"But you must, my boy. If my father gave me such a luxurious little gift," He gestured towards my struggling body. "then I would take it and thank him profusely. I expect you to do the same for me as your father."

He whispered in my ear something inaudible, it sounded of buzzing rather than words. It hurt, he couldn't seem to do it. "I'm so hideous and repulsive that he thinks I'm too gross to lay with." I told myself. Eventually it was over and father left me there, cold and revealed. His words looped in my head, unable to escape my mind.