The Storm That Ended It All

The wind howled through the window. The girl sat huddling her knees waiting for the storm to be over. Slowly, she scooted herself under the table, her small frame jumping when her back touched the cold surface of the wooden table leg. The thunder clapped and light flooded the room for a moment before it was again ridden with darkness. The girl’s hair fell into her eyes as she buried her chin between her knees as her body began to shake. That was when the footsteps began.
“D-Daddy? Is that you?” she whispered nearly inaudibly into the dark dining room. The foot steps continued. They were coming from the playroom upstairs. The girl began to inch out from under the safety of the table, her eager eyes in search of her beloved father. “Daddy, say something!” she cried out, tears forming in her terrified eyes, “You’re scaring me! Stop it!”
The window to the dining room shattered from the pressure of the storm, the shards of glass exploding into the room as thunder roared through the air again. The girl’s cry for help shreiked through it, but was cut short as the footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs and their owner became visible to her. A lump rose in her throat, blocking all hope of crying out for her father again. After all, Daddy was not there anymore and would not answer no matter how loud she screamed.
The stranger moved forwards, her footsteps growing louder and beginning to sound sticky like she had stepped in spilled soda. Oh, but that was not soda — far from it. But, the girl’s mind was too naive to see what was being left being in the stranger’s footprints, or what they meant. For all the little girl knew was that her Daddy was upstairs in his bedroom talking to his lady-friend and she was supposed to be getting her milk and heading off to bed.
Again, she opened her mouth to scream as the strange woman’s hand reached down to her, palm out and fingers stretched in all directions. But, no sound came out.
She was silent.
The storm had finally ended.


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