Behind the scarlet red door.

The moment I have reached the scarlet red hotel room door, all my muscles tightened as the intense metallic smell of blood overwhelmed my senses.  I rushed into the room, my head spinning with disbelieve and my heart pounding anxiously like it’s about to explode out of my chest cavity. Has my only nightmare come true?  Trying to take it all in I notice splashes of blood against the walls, bloody stains all over the white carpet, never in my life have I seen so much blood.  I followed the blackish flood to the bedroom and there she was.  My flesh, my pride, my only daughter, unrecognizably mangled by gunfire, all the life was drained out of her tiny body.  My father heart yelled and cursed with its silent voice as the terrifying scene burned into my all most being.  My stomach turned and my eyes flooded with tears as every moment between me and my little girl had flashed before my eyes.  Time stood still and I couldn’t move as I became numb with excruciating pain ripping through my body, taking every part of me and crushing the live out of the little that was left.  How could I have done this to her?

My cellphone rang as I was just about to bet another thousand on the poker table at the casino near our neighborhood.  It’s my daughter, Loraine, probably wanting to know when our flight is leaving for New York this afternoon.  I promised the girl that when she was sixteen I would take her with me on my annual business trip that I have to attend every year in August.  Boy do I regret that promise, she’s always nagging me to stop gambling and to stop drinking.  I’m sick and tired of that.  What happened to the sweet little girl who loved me unconditionally?  What happened to “Loraine and daddy against the world”?

When I arrived home she was already waiting for me.  Loraine changed a lot over the past year from the chatty little girl she used to be to this silent girl with fear and pain in her eyes.  The pain of her mother’s death has driven me to gambling and alcohol abuse and I hardly have time to be there for Loraine because of my double shifts and after hours at work.  I just can’t stand the thought of being in that house where her mother suffocated to death in my arms.   I’m sure Loraine prefers it when I’m not around because make up can only hide a little of the evidence of my abuse.  As every other citizen sees me, I’m a successful business man, rich and famous, perfect from the outside, I’ve managed to paint the world a picture, a mask without any cracks so no one can suspect anything.  No one knows about the pain on the inside of the four walls of this house.  Nobody knows about the way I sexually abuse my daughter after my old friend Jack Daniels has taken over.  I hate myself for doing that to her, I do love her with all my heart but I hate her for reminding me of my laid wife.

Our plane landed in New York and we went to book in.  I had a few drinks on the plane and as I watch my daughter walking in front of me my body started to react on my intense lust for her.  I’m painfully aware of her perfect body next to me and I feel aroused as we reached our hotel room.  I quickly dismissed the carrier, opened the scarlet red door, and as we entered the room I saw a bottle of Scott and drank about half of it.  I went to the bedroom where Loraine was unpacking her things and I lost control…again…  I remember strangling her, covering her mouth, tying her to the bed and raping her in every possible way like so many times before.  She just laid there, tears running down her face but still accepting me without choice. “You still love your daddy, don’t you baby girl?  Now don’t you dare tell anyone about this?”  And with those famous words I left her and I went to the casino in central New York.  Little did I know what was about to happen…

My cellphone rang displaying an unknown number, but for some reason I’ve answered it.  It was the hotel manager; I could sense something was wrong by judging from the tremble in his unstable voice.  They heard a gunshot coming from our room and as soon as he uttered the words it hit me solidly like a train speeding to its next destination.  I was short of breath and my mouth went dry with the thought of what happened as I sit in the backseat of the taxi.  Pearly sweat ran down my forehead and face and my hands were shaking as I was dreading the moment yet to come.  After a few minutes what felt like an hour we reached the hotel and I rushed to our room where I left my daughter.  Regret took over and the pain began to slowly kill me from the inside.  I lost my insanity and took the gun from my daughter’s hand.  I felt the ice cold gun against my head and the trigger covered with my daughter’s precious blood under my finger.  One last tear rolled down my cheek as I pulled the trigger. That day I took my life, I couldn’t life with the guilt of mercilessly taking my own daughter life…

 

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