Hillary_Tail of the Dog

by Angel Gelique

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked, with a threateningly sharp edge to his voice, as if to say, “you slept well, period. Don’t ever say otherwise. Keep your mouth shut about what happened.”

  Hillary simply nodded. She got the message, loud and clear. She began shaking harder, uncontrollably. Now she knew for sure that he was awake, he was conscious of what he did. He purposefully raped her.

  “Are you feeling okay?” he asked, coldly.

  Hillary nodded quickly, shutting her eyes tightly to prevent her tears from spilling out.

  Mr. Greyson leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, “it wasn’t so bad, it’ll get better.”

  Hillary could no longer hold back her tears. She sobbed as quietly as possible as Mr. Greyson piled some pancakes onto his plate. She didn’t dare to look at him.

  “It’s gonna be a good day today...a really good day,” he said snidely.

  Hillary stood to leave. Mr. Greyson quickly placed his hand over hers causing her to jump.

  “Sit,” he said softly, but from his tone it was apparent that this was an order, not a request.

  Hillary did as she was told.

  “So how’s school going, Princess?” he asked cordially.

  Hillary didn’t reply. She couldn’t bring herself to engage in a friendly conversation with the man who had horribly traumatized her just hours before.

  “Hilly? Did you hear me?”

  Hillary nodded. Tears continued to spill from her eyes.

  “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  Overreacting? Hillary couldn’t believe he could ask such a thing. She felt like she was trapped in a bizarre dream. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t her life. This wasn’t her father. Her father was kind and gentle and sweet and loving. Her father would never hurt her like this.

  Leaning close to her ear, he said, “I expect you to be mature about this, Hillary. This is just the way it’s gonna be from now on.”

  His words sent a chill down her spine. Was this only beginning? Was he informing her of his intention to have his way with her from this day forward? Hillary couldn’t bear the thought. She didn’t think she could deal with such an encounter again. Without even realizing it, she was shaking her head, to her father’s dismay. He looked greatly annoyed.

  “You’ll do as I want,” he said curtly, sitting up quickly as Mrs. Greyson entered the room.

  “Are there enough—hey, what’s the matter?” she asked Hillary.

  Mr. Greyson answered instead.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got this one,” he winked at his wife.

  “I knew something was going on. Let me know if you need to talk, sweetie.”

  Mrs. Greyson bent to hug Hillary. She looked so distraught. Her mother wondered what was bothering her. She was sure her husband would fill her in on it later. Giving them some privacy, she walked back into the kitchen to tend to some dishes.

  Mr. Greyson lifted Hillary’s chin up so that she would meet his icy gaze. His piercing steel blue eyes were devoid of remorse.

  “Pull yourself together,” he ordered in a low voice just over a whisper, “you’ll upset your mother.”

  This time Hillary nodded. She had to do as he said. She had to obey him. Maybe if she was a good, sweet daughter, he’d leave her alone again. Maybe she had done something wrong to provoke his actions. She forced a thin smile upon her anguished face.

  “That’s my girl,” Mr. Greyson said softly, a big grin plastered on his face. His eyes grew warm and gentle once more. It was as if her acquiescence had transformed the beast back into the man. He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. Hillary didn’t dare withdraw her hand, though she found the gesture greatly nauseating. She looked away as he closed his eyes as if to savor a euphoric moment.

  Moments later, he released her hand and turned his attention to the pile of pancakes on the plate before him.

  “Aren’t you going to finish your food, Princess?”

  Hillary shook her head then quickly added, “I’m full.” She didn’t want to make him angry again. She had to get things back to normal with her father.

  “Okay, well you can keep me company while I eat,” he said, benevolently enough, but implicitly he was warning Hillary to stay put. She sat in silence and watched him devour his breakfast. He said nothing further but when he was done, he started humming Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.” His eerily low tone sent shivers down Hillary’s spine. Without caring about disappointing or angering her father, Hillary rose swiftly and ran to the bathroom. She threw up violently as tears flooded her eyes. There was nothing wonderful about her world anymore.

  Available May 2013