God. . .please Kill Daddy

There was a pillow on the bed right next to my hand. My fingers gently traced the sharp curves of the crisp pillowcase. It would only take a minute…. It wouldn’t be a struggle—he would just stop breathing. I grabbed the corner of the pillow with my right hand and squeezed it. I looked into those eyes again. They were filled with fear—terror—panic. He watched every move that I made. Unable to stop me, he waited helplessly to see if I was really like him, if I could take a life as easily as he could.