Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Her Daddy Said So

So I found a hard copy of this story finally. I would not like to have lost it, since I keep records of everything. I got 18/20 for it... I wrote this last year in semester 2 for the Murder and Mayhem year 11 English course. Just in case the thought crosses your mind, this isn't written from experience in any way hahh. I haven't looked at it since I wrote it, sooo hopefully it's somewhat decent. From what I remember it was kindah horrifying and disturbingly painful to read, having got into the character while writing. Hopefully it is still as realistic as I thought it seemed then. I didn't have the heart to kill off my poor, brave, main suffering character, which could easily have happened with such a parent. >=( I wanted to leave an opening where she might escape and find a better life, out of her heartbreaking childhood. I guess hope comes out in my writing also.

She awoke from the pain, for an instant not knowing where she was. Bright lights assaulted her eyes as she attempted to see. The ever recognisable disinfectant smell that belonged almost solely to hospitals hung in the air [sentence too long aghhh]. She cringed. She hated the hospital, having been there often enough. Finally adjustng to the light, she saw her daddy sitting at the end of her bed. An involuntary shudder shook her small body once more.
"Daddy, I'm sorry!" she whispered. "I didn't mean to."
Her daddy looked up and smiled.
"It's good to see you awake, honey. You've been asleep for quite a while."
She smiled tentatively back at him as he turned to the nurse.
"She worries that everything is her fault... I'm not sure why. She's just a kid; they're always having accidents at this age. I could see it happening, too. I tried to stop her, but I was too far away. She just fell off the balcony like a little rag doll. God, I had my heart in my mouth."
Lowering his voice, he continued. She had to strain to hear [what he was saying].
"It's just that she seems to have more accidents than most, always falling off this or that, bumping into another. A few months back she managed to pull a mug of hot coffee off the kitchen bench. It poured all over her. Poor thing's screams could be heard around the whole neighbourhood, I'm sure. I'm worried she might have some sort of co-ordination or eyesight problems?"
The nurse gave a sympathetic nod.
"Yes, it's always tough when they're little. Mind you, it doesn't improve as they get older. The trouble I've had with my two boys... my God[, doesn't bear talking about.] Anyway, if you want, I could arrange for her to have a proper check up."
He thought for a while, then slowly shook his head.
"Might wait a bit, see if she grows out of it. I was quite clumsy as a child as well. It probably runs in the family."
He laughed, and the girl watching him intently from her bed relaxed further. When her daddy laughed, it was a good sign and meant she was less likely to do something wrong. But this was still one of those laughs that he used a lot around other people, especially at the hospital, when sometimes he was still angry but didn't want to show it. At times like that, he also said lots of things that weren't true, and was as nice to her as if she never did anything wrong. She still couldn't understand it.

But she was only a stupid girl, and she was so bad she couldn't understand the things other people did. Even when she tried her hardest, she still couldn't help but do something naughty. That's why she never went out of the house, except to the hospital. That was also why her daddy had to punish her, to teach her the right thing. One day she would be a good girl and her daddy would let her go outside to other places, and make friends with other people. Right now, if she was friends with anyone she would turn them into bad people too; she was a bad influence.

It was because of her that her mummy left, and because of her that her daddy was out of a job. It was because of her that the house was so messy, and her fault that daddy was always angry. If she could just be quieter, if she knew how to cook, if she cleaned and was good, then he would be happy and everything would be okay. But she was just a lazy bitch. Her daddy said so.

The nurse left the room, explaining she had some other patients to check on. The instant the door shut, her daddy stood up and came closer. He no longer made any effort to mask his anger, the fury twisting his face.
"You little shit! I'm trying to help you, and what do you do? You can't even learn a lesson without injuring yourself, costing your daddy even more money! I try to do right by you, but you don't appreciate anything!"
She fought not to cry, not to shrink down inside the blankets. She had done the wrong thing and had woken her daddy up too early. She had to accept her punishment. Crying was wrong. So was trying to not learn a lesson, which was why she nodded, taking every word to heart.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered once more.
"Oh, you will be! Just wait till you get home."
The nurse entered the room once more.
"That's a brave girl you've got there," she said brightly.
No she wasn't. She was a selfish brat.
Her daddy said so.


The girl was led upstairs. It was growing dark but she could see that the house her father had walked her to was just as dirty as theirs. The woman she was now standing in front of seemed rough and slightly grimy, in keeping with the surroundings.
"What's your name, girl?" the woman asked brusquely.
"I don't really have one, ma'am. But I think I was called Jesika, once."
She didn't say it aloud, but she thought this name had been given to her by her mother. She had a faint memory of a woman talking to her and smiling at her, [looking at her in a way she hadn't seen in a long time. In this memory the woman was] saying,
"Jesika, can you say Mummy? Can you smile for mummy? Come on..."
She was sure this was her mum. Maybe it was because she hadn't been able to smile and say "mummy" that her mother had left...

She was jolted out of her thoughts as the woman grabbed her arm.
"Come on, Jesika, then. I don't know if you know why you're here and if this is your choice, it's like as not, but that's not my business."
She stopped outside a door with no handle. Pushing it open, she said, "In you get."
Jesika walked in and sat down on the single item of furniture in the room, the small, grubby bed.
"Now wait here until someone comes in. Do what you are asked."

With those words, the door swung shut and she was left alone. When her father had left her here, it has been without a word of explanation. Without her father here, how could he tell her if she was doing something wrong? She needed him! Never had she been apart from him for longer than ten minutes, and never while away from home. She didn't go to school because she was so stupid; she couldn't even learn the lessons he tried to teach her.
So there was no way she could learn other, harder lessons.
Her daddy said so.
Before they had left the house today, he had told her it was time for her to get them some money, since she used so much of it. That had to be why she was here.
She didn't question the matter any longer. Questions were for people who were smarter than her.

Eventually the door opened once more and a man walked in, taking a swig from a bottle. Jesika sat on the bed looking at him. After a minute, he roared, "Well get on with it girl!"
"What do you want me to do, sir?" she asked, hesitantly.
He grabbed her by the collar and pulled her towards him, throwing the bottle to the ground as he did so. [The glass shattered, flying across the room.]
"I came here for a fuck, not a bloody question and answer session!"
He tore her shirt from the collar down, and from there ripped off the rest of her clothing [clothes].
He then slammed her onto the bed and took off his own clothing.
"You don't look like much, bich, but you sure are gonna learn a few things tonight!"
With another leer, he lowered himself on top of her.
All of this time, Jesika had remained silent. She had learned to accept anything without complaint. But even she could not stop her screams as her nine year old body was first entered by a man that night.


At the age of ten, she arrived home one morning to find her father passed out on the floor. Several beer bottles and a puddle of vomit lay around him. She knelt to wake him gently. Blearily, he opened his eyes and sat up.
"Ah, fuck." Putting his hand to his head, he cursed some more.
"I've got one bitch[hell] of a hangover and a lying slut[bitch] for a daughter who can't do anything but try to ruin my life. What'd I do to deserve all the shit in my life, huh?"
He snatched the ice pack she'd run to get and stumbled off to bed, leaving her to clean up.

Later that day, he called Jesika to his room.
"You want to be good some day, don't you?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Don't just nod!"
"Yes, Dad."
Now, do you see that you can't even answer a simple question right? How can you expect to ever make me happy, when I do so much for you and all I get in return are your screw-ups?"
"I don't know, Daddy. I'm sorry."
"Well, I've thought of something you might be able to do right, something that could make your daddy happy."
"I want you to show me what you can do in bed. You ought to be pretty experienced by now, yeah? Come on."
She hesitated. The chance for her to finally do something right, to make her dad happy, was the one thing she wanted most in the world, but this felt wrong somehow. Yet how could it be wrong? Her dad was telling her to do it, and he was never wrong.
Jesika slipped out of her clothes with practiced ease, clambering onto the bed. She was finally going to make him happy, and so she ignored the lingering doubt in her mind as she was united with her father in a way that was never meant to be.

Because her daddy said so.

Ms White : "Capable use of setting and dialogue and a sympathetic development of character."
- strong internal landscape
- middle section needs strengthening
- "A horrifyinh portrait of abuse. The protagonist's voice is clear and strong. How does this fit within the topic?"
Uhhhhh well I'd say it was just a little "mayhemic" but ehh fine. 18 out of 20, i'm happy. It's kinda bland at the start and I'm not so satisfied with it, tell me what you think?


  1. dude, you already know I think that story is awesome (although heart wrenching).

  2. Oh My

    What a terrible story

    how tragic that the one thing she feels she must do to make her father happy, is the worst of all


  3. i still love this story
    it's awesome, if not somewhat disturbing
    it's so sad
    and i think it's well written. *nur

    love you

  4. it is definitely a good story, in the writing and the plot. have you tried to make an extended version?

  5. Daniel, i don't know if you'll get this but no i haven't. i'm lazy ;D

  6. It's good, yeah.
    Sigh, I never got to read it when you actually wrote it. Just a bit late for that I suppose.
    It is actually good though. And sad. I wish I could write like that. I'm actually serious. You wrote that a year ago, and I wish I could write like that NOW.
    I must agree with Kate. With like, the three lines in the middle.

  7. wow, that is really really good , concidering your age. I felt drawn into her situation, and felt her pain..I agree..would love to read a longer version!

  8. disturbing but awesome! love your style of writing!

    and just fyi it seems more like a 20/20 from me


  9. I really liked this. It needs a little bit of work, but nothing major. If you'd like I can email you a full critique. Keep writing! You've got some skill, girly. (:

  10. oh my god. i feel absolutely horrified. revolted. the ability to arouse such strong emotion in the reader is a huge talent. i loved the way the little detail about clumsiness reveals that the brothers have also been abused, as was the father himself, in his time.

    the only criticism i could make is that it might be interesting for you to do some research into the psychology of abusers. i think you will find it is quite complex, and there could be another dimension you could add to the father. i also think the 'first customer' scene could be strengthed from something like that too. but it all depends on what you want to achieve.

    all in all, i am an english lit graduate so ive read a lot, and i think what youve written is absolutely fantastic. keep it up!

    peace and love,


  11. The middle section does need strengthening, I felt myself having to go back a few lines to understand the flow of thought behind the story.

    The storyline was disturbing, but I guess it was meant to be so. But for a year 11 essay, pretty awesome I think!