We need to talk

A daughter after years of silence having to live with her disgusting and miserable father in the same house, having to cook for him, and fear of what he might do at night decide finally to ask him for a talk. She will finally find the courage to say everything she has been keeping inside her?

(Her father and mother are watching television in their bedroom as they usually do. She is in the living room walking desperately from side to side, deciding what to do).

Daughter: Alright, it's time to do it. You can't postpone this anymore. Or can I? No! Come on, you have to go in there and say it: we need to talk. That's it! You need to do this.

(She sits in the coach, takes a deep breath and tears stars to fall. She can hear the television coming out of the bedroom. She imagines he must be touching her with his big nasty mouth, kissing her mother's lips. She feels how the angry grows up inside of her until her cheeks burns. She cleans her watery face after that little cry).

Daughter: Ok, you can do it. (She gets up and walks in direction to her mother's bedroom)

You have to calm down a little bit before you enter in there. Your mother will notice something is going wrong if she sees your change of attitude (she reminds herself).

She doesn't need to know. That might devastate her. It's between that man and you.

(She knocks the door)

Mother: Come in.

(Stop it! Mark! She is coming in. She can hear her mother's voice even when she is whispering).

Daughter: Excuse me... Hi mom, how are you doing? (She tries to sound casual).

Mother: Oh hi honey... oh gosh you looked pale! Are you okay honey? Have you eaten something today?

(Now, she remembers she hasn't tasted food today but she knows that that is not the reason of her looking deathly pale).

Daughter: Hummm Kind of...

(Her mother starts saying that she always do that. That she has to remember to eat at least three times a day and not only one. That she has to learn to take care of her health. She pretends to listen but he is there staring at her while kissing her mother's shoulders)

Mother: Honey, Are you listening to me?

(Hesitation)

Daughter: Mmm "F" ... Father, can we talk?

(She smile at her)

Mother: Hey, everything is okay?

Daughter: Yes, I just need to talk with father (it's hard to day every one of the letters that compose that word which he doesn't deserved to be called with). Just for a minute.

Mother: Darling if something is happening you can talk to me. You know that right?

Father: Nothing is going on. It's just a talk between father and his beloved daughter (depraved smiling).

(They walk out of the room to the living room. He makes sure the door is close).

Father: I'm astonished! But I knew someday you will be running right to my open arms (he whispers into her ear).

(She feels goose-bumps, her hands are shacking and she is no longer sure about doing this).

Father: Honey, Are you okay? What is happening? (He hugs her)

Daughter: Don't touch me (crying).

Father: What did you say?

Daughter: I say get your fucking hands out of me!

Father: what do you mean? Do you want something? You are acting strange.

Daughter: You know what, Father? (Sarcasm) I'm so mess up because I tried to have your fucking penis inside of me every time you feel like rapping me. You fucking asshole, I'm tired of not sleeping because I'm afraid that any time at night you can come into my place, I'm tired OF HAVING TO CLEAN UP THE BATHROOM BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND THE FACT THAT YOUR FEETS HAVE TOUCHED THE SAME FLOOR AND I HAVE TO TOUCH, BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND THAT YOU USE THE SAME SOAP, BECAUSE I CAN NOT STAND THE FACT THAT I HAVE TO COOK AND SEE YOU EATING WITH YOUR NASTY MOUTH, THE SAME THAT YOU USE TO KISS ME AND LICK MY SWEAT AFTER YOU END BREAKING MY BODY.

(She falls down and starts crying).

Because I'm tired of hearing how my mother moans at night when you are having sex before you can to my room to rape me, because my vagina grieves more than my scratch skin that bleeds every time more and more while I try to wipe myself off harder I bath to take from me your smell, the whole sensation of your body.

(She raises the look full of anger and she sees him with that gesture of pride and satisfaction that characterizes him)

You know that it is the worst thing? That it never goes away. This dammed smell of you never goes away of my body. I feel it like a shadow. I smell it in your skin, in my mother's skin, in my skin, in the skin of my ex-boyfriend who broke with me because I could not have relations with him not even kiss him. I smell it, I feel it a part of me.

(Suddenly she gets up and jumps over his father who's sitting in the coach yet. She starts strangling him).

Father: What are you doing? Stop! Stop! (He can barely speak until he faints away).

STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!

(She can hear somebody shouting but she is no longer controlling herself)

Mother: DARLA YOU NEED TO STOP NOW!

(It's her mother's voice. She stops, turns down to see her mother with her eyes that became bloodshot. She is standing there with a gun).

Daughter: Mom, mom... what are you doing?

(She doesn't answer)

Daughter: Did you hear everything. Mom, I swear to God, it's not my fault. I wanted to keep you out of this. I couldn't tell you this. I want him to leave, to leave us alone. You would never know about this. Please, trust me.

(He starts moving)

Mother: Stay there! Don't move.

Father: Are you going to believe this story? She is crazy! I told you we need to take her to a doctor. I told you that isn't it?

Father: (He stands up) Honey, we can do this together, we are going to take her to the doctor, (he stats walking to take the gun) she will be better and we are going to become a happy family again. Put the gun down. I'll assure you that.

(A gunshot sounds. Darla starts screaming. He falls down and her mother with him)

Daughter: Mom, mom, mom, Are you okay? Please! Please!!!

Mother: Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't know about it. I'm sorry (she starts crying) I'm sorry!

Daughter: No, please. You don't have to apologize.

Mother: Yes. Because I've never told you he is not you father.

Lights go off.

A whisper is heard in the background: Because I've never told you he is not your father. Father... Father...

Darla: The End. (She finally says. She raises her look and sees how all her partners are looking at her shock by the short-story assignment).

Teacher: Darla, we need to talk right now.