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20

Carissa opened her bedroom door slow assuming that it would be different then every other time she had passed the threshold.  However, the room did not look any different from when she had left it earlier that morning, save a few less toys and the sheets stripped from Lea’s bed.  All-in-all, the bedroom was almost exactly the same as she had left it that morning. 

              After a few moments of looking at the empty bed, it occurred to Carissa that she would probably not see Lea very often, if ever.  Carissa highly doubted that Casey would ever let her visit Lea even if Casey was there.  In that moment, staring at the empty bed across the room, it occurred to Carissa that for every gain there would be loss.  For every loss, there would be pain.  The world had its share of fucked up shit that happened to people but Carissa realized that she was one the few the world just completely and utterly distained.  There was no fair share for her. No balance.  Carissa closed her eyes for a moment and said goodbye to her sister. 

              Carissa pulled her shirt over her head then let it fall to the floor.  She grabbed another, slightly larger but more comfortable to sleep in.  She pulled it over her body.  The extra X in size let the hem fall almost to her knees.  She unbuttoned her pants, walked out of them leaving a crumpled mess of denim behind. 

              Carissa tried to suppress the thought of having a child just long enough to fall asleep.  She could not.  She lay down and pulled her shirt above her stomach.  There was no pudge.  She touched her belly where she thought the baby was growing.  She understood why she was worried.  She knew that she was going to be seen as a tramp or an in-breeder, but what she could not figure out was why she had a total love for a life that she had never seen. Even though the situation was vile, she smiled for the repulsive product.  She could have only been feeling this way because of television and books telling her she was supposed to love her child but it was love no matter how much or how little outside provocation induced the sensation. 

              Carissa lay in her bed for a while before she was able to think about anything else.  David was far from the forefront but he was still there pecking at her.  She had already decided that he was not going to accept that she was pregnant.  David would not want to be with the girl who fucked her father and was now having the hideous spawn.  She felt David’s rejection strong even though he did not know, let alone had a chance to react to her new revelation.  Carissa needed to stop.  She needed to stop.  She needed to stop.   

It was then that Carissa felt a pull.  She let her feet touch the floor; they walked to her desk.  She opened her notebook, connected the pen to the paper, a complete circuit.  She swirled her first few letters but no ink would flow.  Then she noticed it was not a pen at all.  The baby blue positive indication looked at her, daring her to let out the slightest whimper. 

Carissa laid the stick back on the desk.  She lay back down in her bed and wondered, only momentarily, how it had gotten in her room in the first place.  The answer was clear.  Casey wanted Carissa to know.  Casey wanted the upper hand.  Casey won. 

The night led Carissa into a relentless ring of frustration, perspiration, and realization.  The thought of Casey knowing was enough to let Carissa fall asleep, only to wake moments later, heart racing.  The sweat ran cold down her forehead and past her ears.  The dreams stayed thick and stale in her mind.  Tonight, escape was futile. 

21

As the night gave way to morning, Carissa wrapped herself in a blanket before stepping onto the front porch to watch the sun rise.  The morning was a little too crisp but almost perfect.  Just above the horizon, a small group of sporadic clouds with the orange light of the morning sun bouncing through allowed a red haze to shine beyond the still visible moon.   In that moment, Carissa wished she could paint.  She closed her eyes to save the serene illustration or perhaps to hide herself from the beauty of the early morning.  The dawn did not need to see her to be beautiful but she needed to see the dawn before it could be admired.  It did not seem fair to her.  She walked back inside to shield herself from the beauty she did not deserve. 

The door clicked softly behind her.  She had not noticed when she walked out, but Randy was sleeping on the couch, the photo album draped over his chest.  He missed Jen and Carissa knew he loved her mother, was still in love with her mother.  She still wondered why she had to pay for her mother’s death. 

Carissa watched her father sleeping.  She admired him, in some strange way, for all he had done for Lea and her. 
He put up with Casey’s shit longer than anyone else would have.
  She loved her father for enduring Casey.   She loved him for always being there when she needed him.  She needed him now, but he was the reason…the reason…the reason she was so fucked!  Carissa knew that he probably did not want to know and if he did he would probably…well, she honestly did not know what he would do.  With everything that was going on, Carissa decided to keep the secret, at least for now, maybe forever, but “for now” was the plan, for now.

Carissa stood above her father.  She looked at his day old shave, the wrinkled button-up shirt, and the slacks that bunched almost to his knees.  Randy’s arm was draped over the arm of the couch, hand resting on the end table, his feet up on the opposite armrest.  He was not comfortable.  She picked the photo album off his chest, closed it, and laid it on the coffee table.  She kissed him on the cheek and went to get dressed.

The sizzle of bacon coerced Randy from a dead but unsatisfying sleep.  Randy’s shoulder clicked as he lifted it from the table.  Once dropped, the dead weight gave way and a painful tingling sensation exploded into his finger tips.  He rubbed his arm as he rose to sit.  He looked around the room, maybe for luggage or any indication that yesterday may have been a dream, but saw nothing that said his situation had changed.  He had lost his second little girl.  Lea had only been gone for a day but Randy already felt the emptiness.  She was gone and he probably would not get to see her until the courts said he could.  Even then, Casey still might not let him.

Randy stood unsteady, almost falling.  He scratched is head as he stumbled into the kitchen.  He rounded the corner and stopped.  He saw her cooking, Jen.  It had all been a dream.  Randy’s angel was standing before him.  There had been no funeral…it was all a dream.  “Jen,” Randy said, more as a question. 

“Morning, daddy,” Carissa said, turning to him.  “I scrambled some eggs, the bacon is almost done, and the biscuits have,” she looked at the timer, “two more minutes.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” he said, a little disappointed.  He hugged Carissa, his stubble scratching her cheek.  “I’m gonna brush my teeth.” 

“Shave, too,” she said.  Randy raised his arm, thumb pointing at the ceiling, as he walked to the bathroom.  The tingles were almost gone.

Randy looked at his ragged face in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes convinced him that he would be taking a nap that afternoon.  He let the water rush over his fingers, turning the knobs with his other hand, until he had the right temperature to wash his face.  He cupped his hands and let the warmth fill them.  He splashed the water on his face and looked back at the mirror.  He did not recognize the man he was seeing.  Overnight, it seemed, he had gone from middle aged man to the wrinkled, disheveled end of a life.  What was he going to do?   Randy has lost his wife and one of his daughters in one flail swoop, but he still had one girl.  He needed her.  He would stay for her.

Randy brushed his teeth and shaved.  He wiped the excess cream from his face.  With his eyes closed, he grabbed for the towel that hung to the left of the sink.  He dried his face and looked once more in the mirror.  He was still old.

“Daddy, it’s ready,” Carissa shouted.

“Coming, babe,” Randy said as he turned off the light. 

Randy walked through the doorway to the kitchen to see that Carissa was already eating.  The smell of the fresh biscuits filled the room.  Randy had not realized how hungry he had been but knew all well now.  “This looks good, honey,” Randy said pulling a chair back from the table.  He reached for the platter of butter as he sat down. 

Carissa had made a bacon, egg, and biscuit sandwich.  She took a bite and felt the bacon crunch between her teeth.  The sound rattled her ears, her stomach began to turn.  She took another bite and knew she was going to be sick.  She stopped chewing.

“You feeling okay, Carissa,” Randy said as he buttered his biscuit.  Carissa’s face began to turn pale.  She put her sandwich back on her plate.  She tried to hold the tidal wave that was building but her stomach did not help.  She ran to the kitchen sink. 
Tastes better going down
, she thought as her stomach refused to stop clenching.

“You need to go to the doctor,” Randy said walking to Carissa. 

“No, Daddy.  It’s probably just a stomach bug.  I’m gonna go lay down.  If I don’t feel better in a little while we’ll go.”  Carissa knew the morning sickness was starting to set in.  She was not going to the doctor, not yet.

“Alright, go lay down.  I’ll clean up in here then I’ll go get you some Seven-Up.”

“Thanks, daddy,” Carissa said wiping the corner of her mouth.

Randy sat back down and started eating. 

The day seemed to pass with ease as Carissa lay in her bed.  The sunset had come and went, the darkness covered the earth, and Saturday Night Live had just begun.  Carissa lay watching the sketch comedy and thinking about having a sandwich.  Seven-up and crackers did not hold a candle to roast beef, horseradish, a little cheese, and two slices of rye bread, but the only item on the they had was the cheese.  Carissa knew she was going to have to settle for a BLT, minus the L and the T.

Carissa walked into the kitchen.  She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out some left over bacon.  She grabbed the mustard from the door shelf and stepped to the counter, leaving the door open for light.  She took two slices of bread from a bag, squirted some mustard on it, added a few bacon slices, and took a bite.  She put the mustard back in the fridge, closed the door, and walked back to her room.  A car commercial greeted her as she opened the door.

Carissa took the last bite of her sandwich as she heard Randy’s bedroom door give its gruesome warning.  She took her shirt and panties off, lay down in her bed, and pulled the blankets over her.  She stared at the ceiling.  The fluorescent stars had no glow, their energy not being replenished by the television light.  She had nothing to look at except the door swinging in, letting the crass man come for his grotesque fee. 

The door opened. The light from the bathroom shone between his legs. Carissa could see Randy’s penis began to rise as he stepped through the threshold, this time leaving the door open.  One step, two steps, only two more.  He had left the door open. He wanted to see her.  The stench of lust and betrayal would engulf her, three steps, and four.  He was at her bed side.  He wanted his caress to show in the fluorescent spotlight.  He wanted to see the shadow of every thrust.  He pulled the covers back.  He wanted to see his beautiful Jen’s body.  He wanted her.  He licked his lips and took a deep breath, letting her fumes fill him.  He touched her creamy flesh.  She did not move.  His rough finger tips ran the length of her, and then rested on her thigh.  He leaned down and began to kiss her exposed breasts, caressing her nipples with his tongue.  He squeezed one nipple as he brushed the other with his day old stubble.  He threw one leg over her so he could be on top.  He held his torso up with elbows so as not to hinder the movements he was going to perform.  Carissa could feel his erection invading her thighs, not yet at the place where it wanted to be.  He kissed between her breasts, pushing them close together to fill his face.  He turned his head right and left in ecstasy, his beard scratching her with every movement. 

He began to move slowly down her, kissing every available inch.  He began to stroke her navel.  Carissa sobbed.  Randy did not stop.  Carissa felt something begin to muster inside her.  Her chest became tight.  She stopped wanting to cry.  She did not need to cry.  Crying was not an option.  Hate.  It consumed her.  “No,” she said, her voice cracking.  Randy had not heard.  “Stop,” still timid but louder.  He spread her thighs and buried his rough face between her legs.  “Daddy, stop!” she screamed so loud she heard the window rattle.  He did not stop.  She began to squirm.  He held her tighter.  She could not break free from his grip. 

Randy rose to his knees.  “It will only be a minute,” he said.  He lunged forward and started sucking on her neck.  He held her arms as he thrust forward but he did not enter.  He let go of one her arms so he could aim himself into her.  She flailed her arms, fist clenched, not sure if she had connected.  He thrust forward again.  She could feel the walls of her vagina tear.  A pain shot through her like a bolt of lightning.  He then pinned her arm again.  She bit her lip and closed her eyes letting him finish.  He let out a relieving breath.  She felt him pull out of her, his semen spilling with him.  He let go of her arms.  She closed her fists and began hitting with all her might.  He put his hands up trying to defend himself.  He threw himself back to the foot of the bed.  As he turned to look at her, a foot connected with face, he felt his nose shatter like glass on concrete.  Another foot connected with his eye.  He could not keep up with the landing strikes, his blocks fleeting at best.  “You bastard,” she bawled as she knocked him off the bed and onto the floor.  She stood and started to stomp whatever parts of his body she could contact. 

“Carissa, stop!” Randy howled through a barrage of fists and feet.  Randy grabbed a leg then lifted, sending her to the floor.  Carissa stopped swinging.  She just looked him breathing heavy, saliva and tears glowing in the crept in light.  Randy looked at her for a moment not knowing if she was going to attack again.  He rose slowly.  Her eyes were glued on him as he walked backwards out of the room.  He stepped into the light.  Carissa smiled at the crimson sheen that covered his face.  He deserved it.