His Mission

Ill never forget that night,last night. hidding underneath my bed.Fearing his return,i knew he was in my so call home.i could hear his footsteps coming up the stairs, i hear my door slam open, i hear him calling my name.

i tryed as hard a i could to not breath, not move not even blink.if he found me that would be the end of me….i hear him say the words that i dread”so you think you can hide from me…you just wait until i find you…”he walkes out of my bedroom calmly shutting the door behind him, i poke my head out from underneath my bed so i could get some air.

Next thing i knew he storms into my room again and grabs me by my hair,pulling me out from underneath my bed. My feet werent touching the ground at this point.i whatched as i saw him pull out a butcher knife from his back pocket, i thought to myself trying as hard as i could not to cry, but i knew it was the end for me, there was just no way he would let me live.

as he continued my hair eventually ripped out as he threw me to the ground.as i shake in fear of his next move, i see him pull out a bottle filled with gasoline and a lighter.he poured the gasoline over the blade of the butcher knife and lit it on fire.he looks at me in a devilish way as he stabbes me over and over again.words could not discribe what pain i was in. i had the will to get up and run but not the strength.it was no use he would just catch me,i try to sit up and i see him pour more gasoline onto his hands and onto my body he pulls out a match…all i could think of doin was to scream “No daddy, please stop!”

as i see hell raging in his eyes, i knew i had no time left, he lit the match.i was left burning and bleeding on my bedroom floor……and my father laughing over my dead body,my father, whos only mission in life was to see me in pain and to see me die,my father,my satan under a roof.