| Horror and Thriller Fiction posted January 5, 2010 |
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Daddy taught his little girl well.......
Olivia
by Begin Again
A wine glass lay on its side, its contents dripping from the table's edge forming a dark red pool on the pristine white tile.
Olivia's smoldering green eyes surveyed the remaining remnants of a party gone wrong. She'd spent hours preparing small trays of appetizers, wanting everything to be "a cut above" the usual. The crooning voice of Barry White still drifted from the living room stereo. Candles flickered, casting a warm, peaceful glow. The sweet aroma of fresh strawberries clung to the air.
"Girl, no use crying over something you can't change. What's done is done!"
Her daddy's voice echoed in her mind. She envisioned his imposing frame towering above her, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his strong arm pulling her tight against his body.
Half a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino, his favorite Italian wine, sat open on the kitchen counter. Pouring the rich red liquid down the drain, its faint vanilla aroma mixed with sweet memories and a tiny tear trickled down her cheek. Bits and pieces of the day networked in her mind as she tried to comprehend how her life had gone so wrong.
Giving herself a mental scolding, she opened the broom closet, grabbed a white bucket, some cleaning rags, a garbage bag and the mop. It was time to clear away tonight's fiasco and put it behind her. She worked quickly and thirty minutes later, the kitchen was immaculate. After one final survey, she was satisfied with her efforts and left the kitchen.
Her heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room. Words she'd heard so many times before were a cruel assault as they penetrated her mind again.
"Till the day I die .... You're my reality, yet I'm lost in a dream. You're the first, my last, my everything." A small gasp slipped from her mouth before she hurried to the stereo, ending Barry White's love song with a flip of the switch. Her trembling body slumped against the overstuffed chair and the floodgates opened; sobs racked her body.
"Enough of that! Wallowing in your tears won't get the work done."
She covered her ears, trying to stop Daddy's scolding, but his deep baritone voice reverberated inside her head.
"You don't understand, Daddy. I did my best, but it just wasn't good enough, was it?" Shocked by the anger in her own voice, she buried her face in her hands, struggling to stop the flow of tears.
The 'tick, tock, tick, tock' of the Grandfather Clock calmed her battered nerves. She didn't remember her grandfather; he'd died of a heart attack when she was very young. She had fond memories of her grandmother though. They'd spent many an hour together on the front porch, peeling apples for homemade pies, while Grandma filled her imagination with stories of happily-ever-after and powerful dreams. Olivia's mother had died in childbirth with a younger sibling, leaving her Daddy and Grandma responsible for her upbringing. Not long after a disagreement, Daddy sent Grandma away and Olivia never saw her again. Of course, occasionally, they talked on the telephone, but neither of them ever mentioned it to anyone else.
Thoughts of her Grandma brought a smile to her lips and her blotchy red eyes traveled to the portrait on the wall; a warm, loving woman with blue-grey hair tucked neatly in a bun and sparkling emerald green eyes. She'd refused to remove it from her wall, a fact that highly irritated her Daddy. The tension drained from Olivia's body and her ragged breathing eased.
On the table beside her was another picture she adored, a young, vibrant male proudly dressed in his military uniform. Clayton, the love of her life, believed it was his duty to fight for his country. Clinging to each other, making promises, they'd kissed one last time before he boarded the plane to Afghanistan and his destiny. Only 8 days after stepping foot on foreign soil, he'd been seriously maimed by a roadside bomb. He'd come home a different man.
"God's will, Oli. You deserve better than what that turnip farmer could give you."
Once a turnip farmer always a turnip farmer was what Daddy believed. He wanted more than that for his little girl. The sky was the limit as long as he controlled the sky.
Clayton dreamed of becoming a doctor after serving in the Army. With the GI Bill, he planned on going to school and bettering his station in life, providing for their future and their family. Daddy scoffed at the notion when she talked of their future. Lying in a hospital bed, Clayton agreed with him. He'd ended their engagement. Later, Olivia would learn that Daddy had paid him handsomely for freeing her from her promise.
Darkness was filling the room when Olivia finally tucked her memories away and walked down the hallway toward her bedroom. Opening her closet, she was greeted by a delicate red nightie. Her fingers touched the sheer fabric and her mind flooded with memories of the last time she'd worn it; the last time she and Clayton had made love.
As the tears filled her eyes again, she snatched her favorite jeans and a t-shirt from the hangers and closed the closet door.
Stepping out of the bright yellow sundress she'd been wearing, she tossed it in the corner, discarding it like trash. She knew she'd never wear it again, not after today. This morning when she'd chosen it, her spirits matched the color of the dress, light and cheerful. In a matter of a few hours, her life had been changed forever.
After dressing, she stopped in the bathroom, running a brush through her wild mane of hair and touching a pale pink lipstick to her full lips. Convinced she couldn't repair her blotchy eyes, she turned off the light and retraced her footsteps.
She wasn't prepared for the realm of emotions that slammed her as she entered the kitchen. Earlier events rocked her and she rushed to the kitchen sink, vomiting until her body racked with dry heaves.
"I didn't raise no weakling. Buck up, girl, and get the job done."
Something in his snarling voice triggered her adrenalin. Squaring her shoulders, she picked up the garbage bag, tying it closed. Her hand was on the doorknob when she stopped, hesitating a moment. Setting the bag down, she hurried down the hallway to her bedroom. Grabbing the yellow sundress, she returned to the kitchen, stuffed it in the bag, tying it closed. Slipping on a pair of gloves, she opened the door. She had a job to do and do it, she would.
A shiny red BMW and a navy blue Land Rover were in the attached double garage. Before opening the overhead door, she unlocked the Land Rover's hatch door and tossed the garbage bag inside. Her eyes rested momentarily on the trunk's contents before she slammed it closed. She climbed into the driver's seat, pushed the remote for the garage door, and backed out into the dark street.
She lived in a quiet, remote area where most residents were tucked away in their beds by ten o'clock. Tonight was no exception, and as she'd hoped, the streets were empty. Slowly, she drove down the street and headed toward the highway.
After driving about an hour, Olivia turned her car off the main road onto a country road. The beams of the Land Rover glared against the black pavement. Dense patches of pine trees lined each side of the road, and sporadically, small clearings of vineyards dotted the landscape, but there were no other signs of civilization.
After traveling a few more miles, she maneuvered the vehicle off the road onto a secluded path, invisible to the rare traveler that passed. She clutched the steering wheel as the Land Rover rocked and swayed as it ground its way through the underbrush. Suddenly, the trees and tangled foliage dropped away, and she drove into a small clearing.
When she stepped out of the car, the sounds of waves crashing against the jagged boulders greeted her. Using the headlights for light, she stepped near the rocky cliff's edge and peered down at the unforgiving sea. Daddy had brought her to this spot many times; teaching her to overcome her fears. He'd lowered her frantic harnessed body over the edge, leaving her dangling for hours, often slamming against the rocky sides of the cliff. Only when she ceased to cry did he relent and pull her to the top.
"I'm teaching you to be strong, Oli. To survive in this world, one must not entertain fear."
She was amazed to discover she didn't feel the panic she associated with this spot. She stepped closer to the edge, expecting her breathing to become jagged and raspy. Finding a flat rock, probably the same place her Daddy had once perched, she sat and breathed in the salty air. For the first time that day, she felt calm and at peace.
She'd been outraged when she'd discovered how easily Daddy had bought off Clayton. Believing he had no future without legs, he'd succumbed to money, promising never to see Olivia again. She'd cried and pleaded with Daddy, begging him to understand. He'd laughed at her pathetic whines and told her he'd arranged to take care of everything, including what she considered her ace in the hole.
"Won't have no turnip growing in my backyard, Oli. Just face it, Daddy knows best."
The vehemence in his words chilled her very core. She knew she had no other choice. She made her decision and never looked back, preparing each morsel of food laced with poison. When he'd arrived to say goodbye before leaving on vacation, he'd been surprised to see the spread waiting for him. He'd laughed and said he'd known she would come around to his way of thinking. He always got his way.
A shiver ran down her spine bringing her back to the present moment. Drawing in a deep breath of ocean air, she slowly released it before climbing off the rock. She had a mission to complete.
After opening the back of the Land Rover, she carried the garbage bag to the edge of the cliff, tossing it out over the water. She watched it disappear into the dark night before returning to retrieve the last bit of trash from the trunk area. Struggling to lift the dead weight, she was thankful for all the classes she'd been forced to attend, weight lifting, bodybuilding, strength training, every imaginable form of aerobics. There wasn't one ounce of flab on her 5'8" frame. She wasn't muscular like a body builder, but she was solid and strong. Even so, it was an extreme effort to drag the Oriental rug to the edge of the cliff.
Winded, she stood, bent over, gasping for air. Retrieving a bottle of sparkling water from the vehicle, she swallowed two long gulps before setting it aside on the rock.
With one last push, the rug and its contents fell off the edge and plummeted 250 feet to the ocean below.
Lifting the bottle of water in the air, Olivia offered a toast. "Here's to you, Daddy. You always said Love hath no fury like a woman scorned. As usual, you were right."
Abruptly, she walked swiftly back to the Land Rover, climbing into the driver's seat. After fastening the seat belt, she leaned her head back against the headrest, gathering strength to finish what she needed to do. After several minutes, she started the car and pulled away, without ever looking back.
Heading back toward the highway, Olivia checked her watch. She needed to park Daddy's Land Rover in the airport long term parking in an hour. His vacation flight to Mexico departed in three hours. In a month, when he didn't return from his trip, she'd report him missing. When the police discovered his vehicle, her gloves assured her they wouldn't find her fingerprints. Even if they did, it was her dad's vehicle; of course, she'd been in it many times in the past.
After parking the Land Rover, she wheeled her father's suitcase into the terminal. Spying a cart with numerous bags, she quickly placed his on it and walked away. At the opposite end of the terminal, she walked outside. Minutes later, her grandmother's sedan stopped at the curb and she slid into the passenger seat. The car eased back into traffic.
"Everything okay, Honey." She did not take her eyes off the road, but reached over and squeezed Olivia's hand.
"Everything's fine, Grandma."
"That couldn't have been easy, Oli. After all, he was your father."
"He was an evil, controlling man, Grandma. All his life, he's been cruel to everyone, thinking he was God. He said I had to kill my baby." Olivia ran her hand across her stomach. "I couldn't do that, Grandma."
"I know, honey, I know."
Olivia pushed in a CD and leaned her head back against the headrest. The soft music filled the car as Barry sang, "You're my first, my last, my everything."
Story of the Month contest entry
A wine glass lay on its side, its contents dripping from the table's edge forming a dark red pool on the pristine white tile.
Olivia's smoldering green eyes surveyed the remaining remnants of a party gone wrong. She'd spent hours preparing small trays of appetizers, wanting everything to be "a cut above" the usual. The crooning voice of Barry White still drifted from the living room stereo. Candles flickered, casting a warm, peaceful glow. The sweet aroma of fresh strawberries clung to the air.
"Girl, no use crying over something you can't change. What's done is done!"
Her daddy's voice echoed in her mind. She envisioned his imposing frame towering above her, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his strong arm pulling her tight against his body.
Half a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino, his favorite Italian wine, sat open on the kitchen counter. Pouring the rich red liquid down the drain, its faint vanilla aroma mixed with sweet memories and a tiny tear trickled down her cheek. Bits and pieces of the day networked in her mind as she tried to comprehend how her life had gone so wrong.
Giving herself a mental scolding, she opened the broom closet, grabbed a white bucket, some cleaning rags, a garbage bag and the mop. It was time to clear away tonight's fiasco and put it behind her. She worked quickly and thirty minutes later, the kitchen was immaculate. After one final survey, she was satisfied with her efforts and left the kitchen.
Her heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room. Words she'd heard so many times before were a cruel assault as they penetrated her mind again.
"Till the day I die .... You're my reality, yet I'm lost in a dream. You're the first, my last, my everything." A small gasp slipped from her mouth before she hurried to the stereo, ending Barry White's love song with a flip of the switch. Her trembling body slumped against the overstuffed chair and the floodgates opened; sobs racked her body.
"Enough of that! Wallowing in your tears won't get the work done."
She covered her ears, trying to stop Daddy's scolding, but his deep baritone voice reverberated inside her head.
"You don't understand, Daddy. I did my best, but it just wasn't good enough, was it?" Shocked by the anger in her own voice, she buried her face in her hands, struggling to stop the flow of tears.
The 'tick, tock, tick, tock' of the Grandfather Clock calmed her battered nerves. She didn't remember her grandfather; he'd died of a heart attack when she was very young. She had fond memories of her grandmother though. They'd spent many an hour together on the front porch, peeling apples for homemade pies, while Grandma filled her imagination with stories of happily-ever-after and powerful dreams. Olivia's mother had died in childbirth with a younger sibling, leaving her Daddy and Grandma responsible for her upbringing. Not long after a disagreement, Daddy sent Grandma away and Olivia never saw her again. Of course, occasionally, they talked on the telephone, but neither of them ever mentioned it to anyone else.
Thoughts of her Grandma brought a smile to her lips and her blotchy red eyes traveled to the portrait on the wall; a warm, loving woman with blue-grey hair tucked neatly in a bun and sparkling emerald green eyes. She'd refused to remove it from her wall, a fact that highly irritated her Daddy. The tension drained from Olivia's body and her ragged breathing eased.
On the table beside her was another picture she adored, a young, vibrant male proudly dressed in his military uniform. Clayton, the love of her life, believed it was his duty to fight for his country. Clinging to each other, making promises, they'd kissed one last time before he boarded the plane to Afghanistan and his destiny. Only 8 days after stepping foot on foreign soil, he'd been seriously maimed by a roadside bomb. He'd come home a different man.
"God's will, Oli. You deserve better than what that turnip farmer could give you."
Once a turnip farmer always a turnip farmer was what Daddy believed. He wanted more than that for his little girl. The sky was the limit as long as he controlled the sky.
Clayton dreamed of becoming a doctor after serving in the Army. With the GI Bill, he planned on going to school and bettering his station in life, providing for their future and their family. Daddy scoffed at the notion when she talked of their future. Lying in a hospital bed, Clayton agreed with him. He'd ended their engagement. Later, Olivia would learn that Daddy had paid him handsomely for freeing her from her promise.
Darkness was filling the room when Olivia finally tucked her memories away and walked down the hallway toward her bedroom. Opening her closet, she was greeted by a delicate red nightie. Her fingers touched the sheer fabric and her mind flooded with memories of the last time she'd worn it; the last time she and Clayton had made love.
As the tears filled her eyes again, she snatched her favorite jeans and a t-shirt from the hangers and closed the closet door.
Stepping out of the bright yellow sundress she'd been wearing, she tossed it in the corner, discarding it like trash. She knew she'd never wear it again, not after today. This morning when she'd chosen it, her spirits matched the color of the dress, light and cheerful. In a matter of a few hours, her life had been changed forever.
After dressing, she stopped in the bathroom, running a brush through her wild mane of hair and touching a pale pink lipstick to her full lips. Convinced she couldn't repair her blotchy eyes, she turned off the light and retraced her footsteps.
She wasn't prepared for the realm of emotions that slammed her as she entered the kitchen. Earlier events rocked her and she rushed to the kitchen sink, vomiting until her body racked with dry heaves.
"I didn't raise no weakling. Buck up, girl, and get the job done."
Something in his snarling voice triggered her adrenalin. Squaring her shoulders, she picked up the garbage bag, tying it closed. Her hand was on the doorknob when she stopped, hesitating a moment. Setting the bag down, she hurried down the hallway to her bedroom. Grabbing the yellow sundress, she returned to the kitchen, stuffed it in the bag, tying it closed. Slipping on a pair of gloves, she opened the door. She had a job to do and do it, she would.
A shiny red BMW and a navy blue Land Rover were in the attached double garage. Before opening the overhead door, she unlocked the Land Rover's hatch door and tossed the garbage bag inside. Her eyes rested momentarily on the trunk's contents before she slammed it closed. She climbed into the driver's seat, pushed the remote for the garage door, and backed out into the dark street.
She lived in a quiet, remote area where most residents were tucked away in their beds by ten o'clock. Tonight was no exception, and as she'd hoped, the streets were empty. Slowly, she drove down the street and headed toward the highway.
After driving about an hour, Olivia turned her car off the main road onto a country road. The beams of the Land Rover glared against the black pavement. Dense patches of pine trees lined each side of the road, and sporadically, small clearings of vineyards dotted the landscape, but there were no other signs of civilization.
After traveling a few more miles, she maneuvered the vehicle off the road onto a secluded path, invisible to the rare traveler that passed. She clutched the steering wheel as the Land Rover rocked and swayed as it ground its way through the underbrush. Suddenly, the trees and tangled foliage dropped away, and she drove into a small clearing.
When she stepped out of the car, the sounds of waves crashing against the jagged boulders greeted her. Using the headlights for light, she stepped near the rocky cliff's edge and peered down at the unforgiving sea. Daddy had brought her to this spot many times; teaching her to overcome her fears. He'd lowered her frantic harnessed body over the edge, leaving her dangling for hours, often slamming against the rocky sides of the cliff. Only when she ceased to cry did he relent and pull her to the top.
"I'm teaching you to be strong, Oli. To survive in this world, one must not entertain fear."
She was amazed to discover she didn't feel the panic she associated with this spot. She stepped closer to the edge, expecting her breathing to become jagged and raspy. Finding a flat rock, probably the same place her Daddy had once perched, she sat and breathed in the salty air. For the first time that day, she felt calm and at peace.
She'd been outraged when she'd discovered how easily Daddy had bought off Clayton. Believing he had no future without legs, he'd succumbed to money, promising never to see Olivia again. She'd cried and pleaded with Daddy, begging him to understand. He'd laughed at her pathetic whines and told her he'd arranged to take care of everything, including what she considered her ace in the hole.
"Won't have no turnip growing in my backyard, Oli. Just face it, Daddy knows best."
The vehemence in his words chilled her very core. She knew she had no other choice. She made her decision and never looked back, preparing each morsel of food laced with poison. When he'd arrived to say goodbye before leaving on vacation, he'd been surprised to see the spread waiting for him. He'd laughed and said he'd known she would come around to his way of thinking. He always got his way.
A shiver ran down her spine bringing her back to the present moment. Drawing in a deep breath of ocean air, she slowly released it before climbing off the rock. She had a mission to complete.
After opening the back of the Land Rover, she carried the garbage bag to the edge of the cliff, tossing it out over the water. She watched it disappear into the dark night before returning to retrieve the last bit of trash from the trunk area. Struggling to lift the dead weight, she was thankful for all the classes she'd been forced to attend, weight lifting, bodybuilding, strength training, every imaginable form of aerobics. There wasn't one ounce of flab on her 5'8" frame. She wasn't muscular like a body builder, but she was solid and strong. Even so, it was an extreme effort to drag the Oriental rug to the edge of the cliff.
Winded, she stood, bent over, gasping for air. Retrieving a bottle of sparkling water from the vehicle, she swallowed two long gulps before setting it aside on the rock.
With one last push, the rug and its contents fell off the edge and plummeted 250 feet to the ocean below.
Lifting the bottle of water in the air, Olivia offered a toast. "Here's to you, Daddy. You always said Love hath no fury like a woman scorned. As usual, you were right."
Abruptly, she walked swiftly back to the Land Rover, climbing into the driver's seat. After fastening the seat belt, she leaned her head back against the headrest, gathering strength to finish what she needed to do. After several minutes, she started the car and pulled away, without ever looking back.
Heading back toward the highway, Olivia checked her watch. She needed to park Daddy's Land Rover in the airport long term parking in an hour. His vacation flight to Mexico departed in three hours. In a month, when he didn't return from his trip, she'd report him missing. When the police discovered his vehicle, her gloves assured her they wouldn't find her fingerprints. Even if they did, it was her dad's vehicle; of course, she'd been in it many times in the past.
After parking the Land Rover, she wheeled her father's suitcase into the terminal. Spying a cart with numerous bags, she quickly placed his on it and walked away. At the opposite end of the terminal, she walked outside. Minutes later, her grandmother's sedan stopped at the curb and she slid into the passenger seat. The car eased back into traffic.
"Everything okay, Honey." She did not take her eyes off the road, but reached over and squeezed Olivia's hand.
"Everything's fine, Grandma."
"That couldn't have been easy, Oli. After all, he was your father."
"He was an evil, controlling man, Grandma. All his life, he's been cruel to everyone, thinking he was God. He said I had to kill my baby." Olivia ran her hand across her stomach. "I couldn't do that, Grandma."
"I know, honey, I know."
Olivia pushed in a CD and leaned her head back against the headrest. The soft music filled the car as Barry sang, "You're my first, my last, my everything."
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