Part One:

The bedroom was cold and dark, except for a few rays the moon had cast through the blinds and onto the cold, wood floor. Silence penetrated the house. I snuggled deeper into the soft, blue comforter on my bed and moaned happily. I was in another place, with a man who loved me enough to die for me. I was older, and it was my wedding night. A man with gray eyes and soft hands played with my long, silky brown hair. His fingers drew up my legs, caressing me softly. Up my flesh they moved, circling my thighs and slowly edging up my body.
I opened my eyes in a paralyzing fear when I felt my panties being pulled down and off my legs. I was not dreaming anymore. I was 17 years old again, back in my cold, desolate home. I was not alone.
I jerked my body away and tried to sit up. Two hands grabbed my legs and pulled me down. I had failed. Now, as I lay still, my back against the queen size bed, I was able to look into the face of the invader. If indeed he was an invader.
I was not surprised when I saw the familiar eyes. They were not gray, but brown. And they glared at me. Usually they were soft and gentle, but not tonight. Tonight they were almost... evil.
The man took the comforter I was wrapped in and threw it to the floor. For the first time in my life, I was starting at a naked man, and it was my father.
I fought back the urge to regurgitate. Even in the dim moonlight, I could make out the outline of his body. I knew from past experience that he was fat, but never before had his grotesque belly stuck out as it did now. And even lower, I noticed in disgust, he was having erections.
"Dear God, help me," I silently prayed. It was a prayer of desperation, one that God had heard many times before, but never with such fear and pleading. I did not repeat the prayer, but let my mind wander.
I had known that this day would come. For years I had been deathly afraid that it would, but I had never prevented it from happening. I knew by the way he touched me, by the way he hugged me, by the way he even looked at me, that one day it would come to this and then it would be too late.
But was it too late? My mother was gone--out of town on business--and my horny father stood before me, contemplating his next move.
If my bed had not been next to the door, I could have escaped. But as it was, he was standing directly in front of my only escape route.
Suddenly it occurred to me that I was naked. Somehow, he must have slipped off my shirt, as well as my underwear, while I was sleeping.
My father saw me flinch and smiled. Then he quickly jumped on the bed and on top of me, trapping me between his legs. I screamed and began to claw at his face. He didn't seem to mind. He just held my hands to my sides and pressed his face to my chest. I once again fought the urge to throw up and tried to block out the reality of what he was doing to me.
Flying... flying up in the sky so high with marshmallow clouds and sun fairies...
"Stop," I told myself. I had to focus. I couldn't give up.
I began to struggle again, trying to release myself from his grip. I bit into a piece of flesh near my face. It was his chest. He winced and let go of my wrists. I took advantage of the moment. Somehow I pushed him aside, allowing me to roll out from under him, kicking him as I went. Then I raced for the door, but I wasn't quick enough. I felt a hand grab a fistful of hair and swing me against the wall. My head hit hard and for a moment the room spun around me.
I closed my eyes. When I opened them he was in my face, pressing his lips against mine and shoving his tongue in my mouth. I couldn't breathe, but this was my chance. After gathering all my strength together, I kicked my knee up into my father. He fell to his knees, clutching himself.
I ran. Through the hall and into the kitchen, I ran. I was naked and my head was throbbing, but I had to get outside.
The kitchen door was in sight and I didn't hear my father behind me. I fumbled with the doorknob. It turned and I pulled the door. It wouldn't open. I pulled again. The deadbolt... he had locked the deadbolt.
I cursed and turned around. There were two other doors in the house. I hurried to the back door. I was taking too much time. He would be coming soon. And then he would be angry.
The back door was not locked. I opened it and ran outside, surprised that I did not find my father behind me. I ran into the side yard as fast as my legs would carry me. I needed to get to a neighbor's house. They could help me... if only I could get there.
I had almost made it out of the yard when a figure stepped out from behind a tree into my path. I screamed. It was him. Somehow he had gotten there before I had. He must have used the front door, I thought.
He was angry. His right fist shattered my cheek bone and his fingers dug into my breast. I yelled for help and slipped away from his grip, but two feet later I was sprawled across the grass and he was on top of me. Crying, I weakly beat my fist against his chest. Then I saw his fist coming at me again, and in an instant I fell--like a doll--to the ground as everything turned black.