There is a loud slap followed by a thudding crash as grandma's body collapses to the floor. The floor shudders. A vase in the hallway tips off its perch and shatters. Kaylee flinches. Her eyes well with tears. Slow, heavy footsteps swagger drunkenly down the hallway. Kaylee can hear her father's heavy breathing. Even from here, the stench of alcohol is overpowering. And then he comes into view. He stands at the entrance to the living room, swaying slightly, his clothes streaked with blood and puke. His eyes fall upon Kaylee. "Did you see a doctor?" he snarls, his eyes flicking nervously to the bandages around her feet. "No," Kaylee strains, barely audible in her terror. "What?" Rodney growls. "Speak up when I ask you a question!" "No, Daddy." Rodney contemplates this for a moment, then continues his interrogation: "A hospital then? Did you go to a hospital?" "No, Daddy," Kaylee whispers. "WHAT?" Rodney barks, relishing the fear in his daughter's eyes. Adrenalin pules through his veins. His hand curls into a tight fist. It sings with the pain of the blow he dealt his mother moments earlier. "Speak up, you little idiot! Did you go to a hospital or not?" "No, Daddy!" Kaylee cries. Tears roll down her cheeks. "So then," Rodney begins, his eyes dancing between the bandages on his daughter's feet and the unseen cigarette burns on the palm of her hand. "So then...nobody knows about our little secret?" he asks, suddenly furious at himself for the desperation evident in his voice. His putrid, twisted mind lays the blame for his nervous desperation squarely on his daughter's shoulders. She'll pay for making him feel this way. Oh yes, he'll make her pay. "The cops don't know? You haven't talked to any cops, have you?" "No, Daddy," Kaylee squeaks, and then repeats it much louder. She doesn't want to make her daddy angry again. "I love you, Daddy," she says. Rodney snorts laughter. "I love you too, sweetheart," he says. He takes a slow, menacing step toward her. Kaylee takes a terrified step backwards, almost tripping over her own feet. Her little body shakes violently with fear. Warm urine runs down her thighs. Her thoughts turn fleetingly to the angel who appeared in her doorway the night before; the angel who came for her and carried her away. A shadow falls across the living room window. Soft, strangely beautiful music floats into the room from outside the house. And then the living room fills with light. Credits: Jewel by Thorne Thomas by ExprssnImg Room 9 by Expert Hair by Koz Clothing from DAZ