Girl Psycho

Daddy's little girl (Hope)

It might not be the usual "boy meets girl, falls in love, holds hands and makes love under the fucking stars", or whatever, kind of story. But it's pretty damn typical for the type of story anyway. It's the textbook story that finds it's way onto one of those Crime Network shows that you sit and watch while eating your TV dinner on your lap.

At the time you may gasp and share a few horrified words and for a second after the show you might remember it, remember her. That is, until some other textbook story fills your screens and you're back to your TV dinner of mushy peas and something that once resembled meat.

The story in question goes a little something like this, although I guess it does have a slightly unexpected twist at the end, me.

Young sixteen-year-old girl. Little bit chubby, slightly pimply and a lot insecure. Strict Christian family with rules so crushing and oppressive that even a girl like her would want to break-free. She longs for a little taste of adventure- not too much though-she's not that kind of girl.

A boy, twenty-three, good looking, oozing charm and wit and intelligence and most of all, showing chubby, pimple face some attention.

"Sneak out tonight. Meet me. I'll fetch you, we'll do something special."

Her heart is pounding with the possibilities. She thinks she's in love, she thinks he's the one- but unbeknownst to her-she has just been groomed.

Climb out window. Meet him. Drive to deserted parking lot. Bound, Gagged. Raped. Abused. Tortured. Left for dead on the side of the road. 

But what he didn't consider, how could he know really, Situs inversus. Her major organs were not where they should be. Swapped around and shuffled. His usual deathblow to the heart did not  work this time.

"Miracle." They all yelled. "Lucky to be alive" the papers printed. Everyone rejoiced, except her. She would rather have been dead, because growing inside her now... the seed of him. And when your family does not believe in abortion, or adoption- all children are a gift from God, even this one- she is forced to have her. And now she has a daily reminder of him.

Besides, it's her fault her mother and father say. Bad things happen to bad girls who behave badly... reap what you sow. "Repent and pray and ask for his forgiveness." 

This baby is a gift... for her, the baby is a punishment. She must feed it and clothe it and cradle it and let it suckle on her breast every day and pretend that she doesn't hate it. Her only consolation is that he is behind bars now, well, sort of. Serial killer and psychopath. Seven other bodies, the papers reported. Lives wasted and stolen and destroyed, but she is lucky to be alive.

So am I lucky to be alive then? The seed. His seed.

I think I'm lucky to be alive. My mother doesn't. You know she tried to drown me when I was a baby? How can I blame her, though? She could see me. She looked into my soul and realized what I was... just like daddy.

At first I didn't hide it. I didn't have the same awareness I do now. But after many psychiatrists, a little stay at a "home for troubled children" I learned it was better to keep it hidden. And now, I am perfect.

The perfect projection of a human. No one would ever guess what I really feel and think on the inside. How my thoughts are so dark and bloody that they consume me, especially at night. What is it about night? Perhaps it is because the darkness inside is mirrored on the outside and I feel like the black monster can blend in.

But by day... I am the most popular girl at school. Cheerleader. Perky. Blonde and pretty. All the boys like me, all the girls want to be me. Straight A student, teachers pet, mommies girl. Girl with a dark secret that no one knows.

But even though I have "changed" on the outside, I still know my mother sees through it. Or maybe her denial is so strong that she no longer looks at me as a monster as we go about our daily mother -daughter routine, or when I sit next to her in church and diligently sing my hymns.

'Amen, praise the Lord and let him deliver us from evil.'

Or maybe mommy is just so fucked up herself that she can't see. I don't blame her, her favorite concoction of alcohol and pills really knocks her out at night... especially when I slip a little extra in.

So that's my fucking story. So do you understand? Do you understand why I have to do the things I do?

Today my school homework is different to everyone else's. I'm going out to meet him today and let him think he's grooming me. I'll meet him in the park, I'll act naive and innocent and just the right amount of insecure and I'll let him think he has me.

Only he doesn't...

Because daddy's little girl has him.