The Little Girl

Based on the somg by John Mochael Montgomery "The Little girl". Such a sweet song. If you haven't heard it, go listen!!!

"Mommy, play?" I asked.
Mommy looked down at me, bags under her eyes as she took another pill from the bottle, and plopped it into her mouth.
"Not right now." She said.
I bowed my head. "B-But that what you always say."
"I said no, now leave me alone. Daddy will be waking up soon, and this house needs to be clean. You know how he gets when things aren't clean."
I nodded my head, and scrambled to get the broom. I had walk out the garage door to reach it, though.
Daddy is very OCD. That's what Mommy tells me. She didn't tell me what is meant though. I think it stands for Always Carying Donuts. Because donuts are his second favorite thing in the world. He gets mad when he doesn't get his donuts.
Daddy is a very angry man. He gets mad all the time, and takes it out on us.
I believe Daddy hates it when he's like that. That he's really a good person on the inside.
I believe that about Mommy too. That's why she takes the pills, she tells me, because it makes her happy.
But Mommy is never happy. She always has those purple things under her eyes, and she is always crying.
I know she tries to be a good Mommy, but Daddy makes it so hard.
I jumped up, trying to reach the broom. It was sooo far up there.
I looked around, I need a....what is it called.....stool.
I spotted one and ran over to get it.
It was dusty and gross, but I needed the broom, or Daddy would be mad.
I picked it up with my small hands and carried it over to where the broom was hanging.
I crawled onto the stool, and reached for the broom.
If only I had pushed the stool farther to the left....ah!
I had been leaning over to the side too far, making me crash to the floor. I had grabbed onto the broom for support, not that that did any good.
At first, all I felt was curiousity, then the pain from my cut seeped in. The broom had landed on me.
I started to scream, tears streaming down my face.
My knee was bleeding, I had a boo-boo.
My wails were quickly getting louder when the door slammed open.
Mommy raced down the steps and picked me up.
She rushed me out the other garage door, away from Daddy's hearing distance, and into our front yard.
She fed me some gummies, my favorite, and told me to stop crying.
"Please, please be quiet. You don't want Daddy hearing you. He's sleeping. He likes his rest."
I was still sobbing, but I wasn't screaming.
"Hurts! Hurts!" I said between sobs.
"I know, I know, but please. Shhhhh."
She rocked me back and forth, quieting me.
My sobs quieted to little sniffles, the pain was going away.
"I can't clean it, I'm sorry. You have to live with it until it heals on it's own, okay?"
I nod my head, this is what she always says.
I got off her lap, and she walked me back inside. I picked up the broom and ran to the kitchen.
There was dirt, everywhere.
I sarted sweeping, though I wasn't very good at it.
Mommy, and Daddy made me learn how to sweep on my own.
I stopped sweeping when I had a small pile of dust on the ground.
I yanked the dust pan off the broom and put it on the ground. It's always hard for me to do this. I stepped onto both sides of the dust pan with both feet; the broom acting as a cane so I didn't fall over.
Also with the broom, I brushed the icky stuff into the pan. I almost cried in frustration when the dust got into the cracks. It wouldn't come out.
I stepped off the dust pan and moved it back.
Licking my first finger, I wiped it in the dust. Mommy said it would help. She said if I just wiped my fonger in the dust while it was wet the dust would just stick to my finger. It did.
Scraping my finger on the side of the dust pan - to get it off - I smiled.
Done with this square.
I picked up the dust pan and went to enpty it when Mommy came in, glaring at me. "What are you doing? There's nothing in the pan." She whispered loudly.
"I did a square. Now I must dump." I said reaching for the trash can.
She slapped my hand away, making me spill the stuff inside it. My lip wobbled as I held back a cry.
"Just go away. I'll do it." She said, bitterness and anger very crystal in her voice.
I hung my head and ran to my room. Though I didn't make it.
As I was running away I tripped over Daddy's old empty bottles. I smacked face first into the ground.
Even if I did hold back a cry, it didn't matter because I made a huge noise anyways.
The bottle I had tripped over had been pushed hard enough into the desk and the most expensive thing we owned hurtled to the floor.
I hadn't heard a noise, but that was because the blood in my ears left me deaf. There must have been a noise though, because when I had started to stand up, I had help.
Daddy grabbed me by the back of my dress and made me face him. My legs were dangling off theground.
"You little rodent. You think breaking things will get my attention? Well it did, you have my full attention." His voice was a scary-calm. One I'm very used to, but still scared of.
Mommy was standing at the edge between the kitchen and the living room. She didn't know whether to help me or not. It was easy to tell which one she chise.
He dropped me to the floor and looked around him. "Why is this dump not clean? Tell me!" He yelled.
I ran to hide between the couch and the wall. I scrunched up so I could fit. Miss Fluffs was smiling at me, even though her ears has been shot off and she had stuffing flowing out. I liked her though, because she smelled of the syrup I spilled on her a year ago.
I looked out and watched them fight, but remembered that it always got ugly.
I looked around my small house instead. Anything to take me away. Mentally of course.
The ceiling fan was spinning and looked like it was about to fall. So it finally got tired of spinning, I knew it would.
The lack of family pictures made me sad, though it was nothing new.
The couch I was behind was very old. It had so many holes. There were rips and tears here and there, and some tear stains from where I had cried with my face smushed up next to it.
The object I had smashed earlier was an antique that Daddy had given to Mommy when they didn't fight for a whole week. That was only last week, though, and now I had smashed it.
"-can't believe you let her run around this house! You know we have valuables!" I heard Daddy shout.
"What valuables? The only things valuable to you are your stupid beer bottles!" Mommy screamed back.
"Stupid? They are my escape!"
"Escape from what?" More yelling.
"From you! You're a worthless complaing fiend who has overstayed her welcome!"
"What welcome? You've never even been nice to your own daughter!"
"Why should I? She's a little rodent who does nothing but ruin everything!"
"You're the rodent around here! All you do is-" The words were cut off by a loud popping sound.
I hunkered down, then peaked out to see Mommy holding her cheek.
"Do NOT talk to me like that." He growled.
She slapped his cheek also when she regained her posture. She didn't say anything, though. She just walked away.
Daddy balled his hand into a fist and slammed his way out the door. "I'll show you." He hissed quietly.
I waited a minute before I crawled out from behind the couch.
Mommy was in the kitchen taking another pill. "Mommy?" I whimpered.
She glared at me. "This is all your fault."
I bowed my head. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Go! Go away! You've done more than I can handle for one night!"
I sulked back into the small living room.
There was dust in the carpet, but we didn't have a vacuum to clean it up, so Mommy just tells me the dust is the carpet's hair. But I'm not stupid. Just 'cause I'm five doesn't mean I'm stupid.
The bookshelf full of Daddy's drinks sparkled at me. I looked away.
I jumped onto the couch, and turned on the TV. It was on the football channel, but I watched it anyways.


The door slammed shut, showing that Daddy was home.
I looked at him, and he looked angry. He never looked this angry. My eyes widened.
I hurtled over the couch so I hid behind it. I bit my lip so I didn't scream in agony, I landed on my wrist. I hugged Miss Fluffs to me, ignoring the pain.
The Cox commercial, my favorite one, came on the TV. The boy saying, "My dad just bought us a 70' in. TV that streams videos. But the problem is, we still have DSL-"
I heard Mommy's loud footsteps, quiet at first, get closer to the living room. I heard them slow down, and heard her gasp.
"I would have thought twice about hitting me." He growled. I heard a click, and a gasp. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was comforting.
The commercial was still going. "But he doesn't care because when it buffers, he calls it-"
"Bonding time!" The dad says happily.
Right as the TV dad said that, a loud noise went off. A thump on the ground had me hugging Miss Fluffs tighter, her stuffing flowing out even more.
I heard the same loud noise and another thump.
Right as the thump quieted, the hand on my shoulder tightened. It didn't hurt, though.
I looked back to see who was there, but two people slammed into the house. I saw them from the crack between the house and the door.
One man, and one woman.
The man sighed, and the woman dissapeared from sight.
The man looked in my direction and his eyes widened.
"Maria! Behind the couch." He said. I started to scramble out from behind the couch, to run away, but the hand on my shoulder stayed there. It didn't want me to leave. I looked at body connected to the hand, and he smiled at me.
He nodded and vanished when the woman poked her head on the opposite side of the couch. She smiled warmly at me.
She relaxed and sat down on her knees. Her arm was extended towards me.
"Hi, I'm Police Officer Maria, what's your name?" She asked soothingly, her arm still outstretched.
"Cassie Harp." I mumbled.
"Such a pretty name. Is it short for something?"
"Cassandra Harp." I said a little more clearly.
"That's even prettier. Almost as pretty as your beautiful brown curls. Can you come over here so I can feel them?" She asked. I nodded my head and crawled over to her.
Mommy never wanted to play with my curls before.
She lightly put her hands in my hair. She smiled. "So bouncy."
I smiled too.
She held out her hand and I grabbed it. She helped me to my feet, but picked me up when I was standing.
She turned me around so I faced her, and lightly pushed my head down so I was staring at a cross necalace she had on.
I reached for it, and played with it in my hands.
"But that's how I realized - that tears are nothing to be ashamed of." The commercial guy sniffled. It was meant to be funny, so I smiled.
As we passed by the TV, I looked down at the woman's feet. She had stopped moving to talk to the man. She had on black shoes.
An arm was on the ground, reaching for something. I was waiting for it grab it, but it never did.
It was motionless next to Police Officer Maria's feet.
"He killed his wife, and himself. I never understand this scenes." The man said. Police Officer Maria shushed him.
I saw a ring on the hand, and a pill in it. "Mommy?" I whimpered.
Police Officer Maria gasped and started fast walking out the door. "I'm so sorry Cassie. You weren't supposed to see that."
"Why wasn't she moving?" I asked.
"She was sleeping. She probably didn't hear us come in."
I nodded, and let her put me down.
She opened the door to her black and white car, and waved at me to get in.
I looked at the top of her car. It had a giant light thing with red, white, and blue flashing colors. "What are those lights for?"
"So people can see us coming." She answered me.
"Oh." I said as I climbed in. "Wait-" I said as she started to close the door. She looked at me. "Mommy and Daddy?"
"They're going in another car, once they wake up." She said solemnly.
"Oh, ok."
The door closed, and the one in front of the car opened. "I'll stay here with you. Police Officer Matthew can check the house without me. Try getting some sleep, though. It's going to be a big day tomorrow."
I nodded and curled into the seat.
I hated naps, but I was tired. Mommy and Daddy didn't let me sleep yesterday.
"Police Officer Maria?" I asked sleepily.
"Yes, Cassie?" She said.
"What about the man..." I asked, I was drifting.
"What man?" She asked a little frightened. My eyes drooped shut.
"The man with the beard. He was with me while Mommy...and Daddy...were..."

I opened my eyes to bright sunshine, and a new room. The ceiling was a very bright pink, with clouds floating on it. The room was bigger than my own, and so was the bed.
A woman with a beautiful red dress on, walked up to me, but the woman from last night stopped her. "Don't overwhelm her." She said.
I noticed a man next to the other woman, he had a suit on. Daddy never wore those. I only saw them on TV.
They walked slowly up to me.
"Where's Mommy and Daddy?" I asked.
The woman bit her lip. "I'm your Mommy. Your new one."
"A new one?" I asked quizically.
"Yes, your Mommy and Daddy are going to be away for a while. We are taking their place." She said a little uncomfortably.
"I'm Daddy." The man in the suit said.
"And I'm Mommy." The woman said again.
"I'm Cassie." I said.
They both smiled and hugged me. I hugged them back. They kissed my cheek as well.
I never got kisses and hugs from Mommy and Daddy. I liked it.


I was with them for a long time. They said it had been a year. I never saw my old Mommy and Daddy once.
I had gotten kisses and hugs every day, and only had to do chores I was big enough to do.
They gave me pretty dresses, and put bows and flowers in my hair.
They let me dance around the house when they played music. They let me be free, though they still punished me when I did bad things.
But the punishments were nothing compared to what Mommy and Daddy gave me back at my other home. I enjoyed these punishments.
My new Mommy and Daddy told me I was strange to like punishments, but they never meant it literally.
I was tuning six today, and they were taking me to church for the first time.
I didn't know what that was so they just told me it was a happy place where they learn about their Creator. They said he was my creator, too. I wondered if she meant Daddy. He was my Creator. They just laughed and told her it was a different kind of creator.
I walked into the class wearing a really pretty dark pink dress with flowers in the pattern, and in my hair. Mommy made the dress herself. She even taught me how to do it, also.
"Class, this is Cassie. She's new." The teacher said.
But I didn't particularly hear her. I was looking at a picture of a man on a cross.
"I know that man, up there on that cross." I said pointing. "I don't know his name, but I know he got off." My english had gotten better, Mommy and Daddy taught it to me. They laughed, though, when they said it was too proper.
"What makes you say that?" One of the kids asked. The teacher looked interested as well.
"Cause he was there, in my old house." I said, as if in a daze. "He held me close to his side as I hid there, behind my couch, the night that my parents died." I said dreamily. Mommy and Daddy had finally told me they were dead last week.
The whole class, including the teacher, all stared me.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder just then. I smiled.
The teacher looked at me. "Are you serious?"
"Of course." I said.
"That man is Jesus. He is the son of our Creator." The teacher instructed, still in awe.
"He is a nice son. He had the prettiest blue eyes."
"Oh really?"
"Mmhmm. This man saved my life."
The teacher didn't recommend it, but she let me tell the class about my old life, and how I met that man on the cross.
I made a lot of friends that day. Including Jesus.

Author's Note

If the plot is too cheesy, please tell me.