Brandy Page sits at home, searching for a job. Her planned temporary leave of absence from A.C.T.S. took a turn for the worse, and ended up being a permanent vacation. The worst part is, they didn't even give her a reason. All she got was a phone call, stating: effective that day, she was terminated. She didn't even argue with the management; she figured it was better off that way.
In today's economy finding work isn't easy. After months of searching she is no closer to finding a job than the moment she was relieved of her duties at the security firm. Brandy has resorted to eating only once a day, usually a piece of bread, and some soup. She is losing weight and won't be able to survive like this much longer. She walks most places, or takes a bus when she needs to go further into town. Meanwhile, her bills are piling up; every day, new late payment notices arrive in the mail. Her unemployment check barely covers the utility bills. Her chance of keeping her apartment is slim. She has used most of her savings to pay her rent. Her credit cards are maxed out, and the banks won't give her another loan.
Some good news has come in the midst of her current unemployment misfortune. It has been nearly five months, and she hasn't been harassed, no new gifts, or notes. The investigation into the stalker had been dropped, coincidently, right about the same time Brandy was dropped from her employment. The Human Resources team in charge of the investigation told her their leads had gone cold and there was not enough evidence to continue the case. They assured her, whoever was behind it, was probably just playing around.
As she shuffles through the classifieds, Brandy's stress level is at its peak. Suddenly, she hears a thump just outside her door. She quickly grabs her gun from the top drawer of the desk. She listens a moment, and hears only silence seeping under the door. Noticing the clock, it points to an obvious explanation. It's nearly noon, and right on schedule for the mailman to be delivering.
Still, not quite a trusting person, she approaches the door with her gun in hand. Slowly opening it, she sees no one is within the corridor of the small apartment building.
A small box rests on her door mat. She immediately thinks of the stalker. Her anxiety swells and forces her already high level of stress to its bursting point. Reluctantly, she picks the package up and returns to her desk.
Brandy pulls out the business card Officer Ronald Travis had given her the last time she received a gift. Her eyes jump from the box, to the business card, to the box, and back again. She hesitates opening the box because deep in her gut, she knows it was from her stalker. But, she thinks, What if it isn't from him? She can't report it to the police without opening the box first.
The sharp edge of a knife slices the brown packing tape easily. Her hands shake nervously the closer she gets to learning what mysterious contents await her discovery. Upon pulling the flaps of cardboard open, she sees bubble wrap. Pulling the loose pieces of plastic out, she unveils her A.C.T.S. security badge. It has been broken, or cut, into seven pieces. A letter sits folded at the bottom of the box.
A deep sigh prepares Brandy for what she knows will be nothing less than sickening. She unfolds the letter, and just like all the others, it is written in all capital letters, in red ink:
HELLO BRANDY, HAVE YOU MISSED ME? I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE SAFE. YOU'RE NOT! JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T WORK FOR A.C.T.S. ANY LONGER, DOESN'T MEAN I'M FINISHED WITH YOU.
I HOPE YOU LIKE THE GIFT. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF DIVIDING YOUR BADGE INTO SEVEN PIECES. THE SYMBOLIC MEANING IS SIMPLE. THE PIECES OF THE BADGE REPRESENT YOUR BROKEN SPIRIT. AND SOON, THEY WILL REPRESENT YOUR BODY, WHEN I CUT YOU INTO SEVEN PIECES. I'LL BE WATCHING YOU.
Brandy feels as if she was being watched at this very moment. Her skin crawls as the hairs on her neck stand to attention.
She quickly dials the number on Ronald Travis's business card.
He answers, "Officer Travis."
"Hi, Officer, this is Brandy Page, the crazy lady with the stalker." She tries to joke about her situation.
Ron remembers her well, "Miss Page, it's good to hear from you, how's everything these days?"
"Not so good...I just received another gift, and a death threat."
"Death threat? You sure it's from the same guy? He's never threatened you before!"
"I'm pretty sure it's him."
"Okay, well, we're shorthanded at the moment, and I'm kind of busy, but I'll come by as soon as I can."
"Sure, anytime, I don't have anywhere to be...Did you just say, shorthanded?"
Signs of Progress
Harrison has yet to name his little girl, and he has no plans of doing so anytime soon. He feels that once it has a name, he will begin to have feelings for it. He tries not to think about those things, instead, he concentrates on his plan. For the time being, he calls her, 'Hey', or 'You', or 'Little Shit'. Sometimes, it's all three, "Hey you little shit!"
The child is growing quickly. Before Harrison realizes it, she is crawling, exploring new areas of the house. The only room he won't allow her in is his bedroom. He keeps the door locked, and hasn't entered it himself since the night Rebecca died, leaving the room just as it was that night. The bed sheets and the floor were left crusted with dried blood. The only traces of Rebecca that remains in the house.
As the child crawls around the dirty floor, her hands and knees become black with filth. He doesn't worry about what she will get into. Nothing is baby proofed. Harrison sets mouse traps in curious locations throughout the house to see if she'll find them.
She reaches the coffee table and pulls herself up to look. A glass of water sits alone in the center of the table. She reaches for it and knocks it to the floor. The glass shatters and water goes everywhere. Harrison sighs, knowing he will have to clean this up later. The baby crawls through the broken glass and tiny shards get embedded into her hands and knees. She wails from the pain but Harrison doesn't care, he just chuckles, "You won't do that again, will you?"
His lessons are harsh. He thinks of them as a form of tough love, only without any love involved. They are a necessary part of her training. The best way for her to learn is through experience.
With each passing day she grows bigger and Harrison must make changes to accommodate her. The grill she has slept in is swapped out for a larger, equally comfortable, metal dog kennel. It has been stored outside in an old shed for years. The former owners of the house left it behind. The base of the crate is covered in mold and feces, cobwebs entangled in the rusty metal grids. Harrison likes the cage because it features a swinging door with a latch. Now he won't need to worry about the baby crawling out of her room in the middle of the night.
As she begins to understand words, Harrison tests her progress. He lays out multiple pictures and says, "Electrocution."
The baby points to the picture of a man strapped in an electric chair.
Harrison continues, "Autopsy."
She points to the picture of a corpse with a large "Y" incision.
Harrison is pleased, though he doesn't show it.
He does other experiments as well, to see if his teachings are working. He places three pictures in front of her, one of a dog, one of a car, and one of a bloody skull. The baby crawls to them and grabs the one with the bloody skull. He repeats the process, adding more "normal" pictures. Each time, the child chooses the one picture with the morbid vision.
Harrison praises her with a gentle pat on the head. Almost immediately he realizes he shouldn't have done that. Showing affection goes hand in hand with love and compassion and it is forbidden. It's too late to undo his error, so he quickly yells at her and storms out of the room. In Harrison's mind, this act of cruelty will cancel out the loving gesture he made by mistake.
Harrison can see that his daughter is smart. She picks up on things after only being shown once or twice. She is a natural, he thinks. His teaching has really started to have an effect on the little girl.
With time, the baby's speed increases as well; Harrison looks away for only a moment and she is gone. He thinks at this rate she will be walking soon and not long after that she'll be running. It won't be long before the next phase of Harrison's plan will need to be executed. Harrison must prepare her for the future he has already mapped out.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As always, vote, comment and follow me! Thanks, Mike
Dedication will go to the next person to go to Amazon and give Daddy's Little Girl a review. Just search my name to find the book: Mike Turpen. Be sure to leave a comment letting me know you did it so I can make sure the right person gets the dedication!