It's not just me you're hurting.

Come home. I'll forgive you.

We had no idea where she was, or what she was doing to make Daddy so mad. But whatever she said on the other end did not pacify him. The receiver slammed.

The ensuing silence was scary, scarier than his yelling. In retrospect, I understand he had gone to visit his bottles. But he didn't find enough healing there.

His footsteps that night were soft. Hesitant. I think they even turned around. But eventually they came toward us again.

The door opened slowly.

393.

Kaeleigh was used to Daddy's visits, but that night she, too, felt something different in the air.

Rage. Lust. Sorrow. Perversion.

All mingled in Daddy's sweat.

There was nothing gentle about how he threw back the covers. Already naked, he pushed Kaeleigh roughly to one side, flopped beside her.

I could tell she was afraid.

This wasn't her Daddy. This was a demon, his evil hard and sharp as a steel blade, ready to slice into her. It did.

His attack was brutal, bloody, wordless except for a vicious Shut the fuck up at her pitiful scream, a plea to please, please no, Daddy, no. It hurts. Oh!

I cowered, sick at the sight, but unable to divorce myself from the horror. I felt Kaeleigh's pain. And when Daddy was done and she cried, I cried too.

394.

No Doubt About It There's a demon inside him.

Demons, they say, are fallen angels. The real question is, who pushed Daddy over the edge, into the abyss? I'd say there are several likely candidates.

And, oh awesome. I'm related to all of them, heiress of darkness.

Dark or not, though, I want to know them. Want to know exactly what created not only Daddy, but through him, me.

Is that so much to ask? We're probably too damaged to ever be fixable, but if there's even a tiny chance, I need to know where to find it. In Daddy? Ha. In Mom? Unlikely. In some guy?

Every single one I know is worse off than me. My only hope is to ferret out exactly who I am.

395.

Kaeleigh I Can Hardly Wait To get to school today, something totally new, and all because of Ian. He takes the edge off my pain. In fact, for once I don't feel like fighting pain with food. For once, I feel like I might crawl beyond this place of darkness the place I've called home for as long as I can remember.

I jump out of bed, start to dress, and my bubble of optimism is burst almost immediately.

Down the hall, Mom and Daddy are into it already, scratching at each other like alley cats.

Where did their own love go? Why did it have to die and suck me down into its shallow grave?

Guess I'll go shave my legs, then scope out the pantry.

I am famished, after all.

396.

I Am on My Third Bowl of Cereal When Daddy comes into the kitchen.

His eyes wear "pissed" and when they fall to my mouth, stuffed with Shredded Wheat, irritation grows to outrage.

What the hell are you doing?

He can't know how many bowls I've downed, and I haven't made a mess of the table. I swallow a major mouthful. "What do you mean, Daddy?"

You look like a regular pig.

Good. I'm glad he thinks I look like a pig. Still, his words sting and my eyes start to water.

"I'm just having some cereal."

Ladies don't stuff their mouths full.

I'm not a lady and don't want to be, but Daddy's spoiling to fight with someone weaker than Mom.

"Sorry. I won't do it again."

That's more like it. Now give me a kiss.

397.

He Hasn't Asked For a kiss since I was small.

If he wants, he takes.

The passive demeanor has me **

totally creeped out, but I am not fooled by it. This is no request. It's an order.

I wipe my mouth carefully, go over to Daddy, who waits, an impatient monarch.

I reach up to kiss the plump of his cheek, but he turns his face straight on **

to mine, and our lips meet.

His mouth is wet, hungry, and he kisses me **

like no father should and just as I think I'll retch, Mom's footsteps click-click **

on the hall tile, coming toward us. Daddy withdraws.

There's my beautiful little flower.

398.

We Are Still Very Close When Mom enters the room, queen to Daddy's king.

The caterers want a deposit.

I have to --She takes in the scene **

suddenly. Doesn't like what she sees.

Uh...is everything all right?

Like she wants to hear the truth-- yeah, Mom, just making out with **

my father. "Everything's fine.

I just had something in my eye."

Her relief at the obvious lie escapes her lungs in an audible sigh.

Speaking of escape, I can make mine now. "I've got to finish **

getting ready for school. See you this afternoon, okay?"

I can't help but look at Daddy, who wears arrogance like aftershave.

Don't be late, little girl. I'll be here, waiting for you.

399.

I Exit the Kitchen Dash up the hallway, and barely make the bathroom before three mountainous bowls of cereal come pouring from my belly.

Stomach acid roils into my mouth, bitter as the spit on Daddy's tongue.

The thought brings a round of dry heaves. Once my stomach stops convulsing, I scour my teeth and gums, rinse with Listerine to kill the germs.

I dare to look in the mirror. "Tell,"

urges the girl on the far side of the glass.

"Tell. Or run." But she knows me better than that. Knows I won't do either.

400.

All Hope Dissolved I catch the bus, sit in the very front seat, where I know no one will join me. I lay my head against the cool window glass, stare at the nothing beyond, try to shut out the noise.

Everyone here has parents. Maybe not together parents, and maybe some are substitute parents. But no one has parents like mine.

I'm a complete freak, and so alone.