Hallelujah

“Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah”

As Aspen sat Mr Thomas lurched from his straight back perch on the rickety chair to stand behind a slightly trembling Aspen. Her father trailed one finger across her bare neck, leaving a trail of sweat and stickiness across her pale skin. As he spoke a trace of insanity seemed to infect every syllable

"Your skin is so much like your mother's; both are as white as snow, that glows a deep crimson whenever you are embarrassed or nervous," he paused, seeming to be thinking out loud as he continued "when I used to touch her goose bumps would make a pathway following my touch"

A maniacal escaped her father's lips as he seemed to watch the goose bumps follow his fingertips as he continued to trail his finger across her neck. As he spoke his voice seemed to crack "At her funeral I thought you would be a blessing, a reminder of my Lily" as he continued his voice seemed to shack with a ripe and limitless anger and hatred "but you aren't. Whenever you speak I can hear her voice. Whenever you laugh or smile all can think about is my Lily. When you breathe I think she is standing beside me"

Aspen felt a single wet droplet seep through her thin uniform and she winced as she realised her father was crying softly "Dadda, I'm-"

"Stop!" Mr Thomas roared. For a moment Aspen though he was angry but then she realised he was desperate, frantic even. Aspen turned slightly in her seat and found her father pressing either of his hands against his ears and squeezing his eyes shut; seeming to want to block away the sight and sound of her. Seeming to realise she was no longer speaking, he warily took his hands from where they were over his ears and opened his eyes.

The old and uncared for floorboards creaked as Mr Thomas walked to where he had carefully positioned a poker, piece of rope and scissors. Fingering the fraying rope like it was something disgusting and infectious he walked towards his daughter again. When he reached her, Mr Thomas wrenched Aspen's hands from where the laid in her lap to the back of the chair. Roughly Mr Thomas wrapped the thick rope around wrists, tightening the complicated knot until you could have sworn it was digging into her skin. Instinctively Aspen began to struggle against her bonds, but it was not use; her father's knots did not weaken. Seeing his daughter tugging against the ropes Mr Thomas whipped his hand across her cheek, making her already tender cheek raw.

For a moment she stopped struggling focusing only on her father's movements, as he trailed an almost affectionate finger down the pokers long handle. Mr Thomas glanced back on his daughter, a guilty yet excited look in his eyes, it was almost as if he happily anticipated the pain he caused put upon her with the scorching instrument.

"Please Dadda"

A hard glare silenced her "I can't do it anymore. It hurts to look at you, so I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you so that you don't hurt me anymore. I'm going to hurt you so that you don't look like my Lily anymore."

"Please, Dadda" Aspen begged, now frantically tugging at her bonds "I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me again"

But Mr Thomas paid no heed to his daughters pleas as he held the red-hot poker in his grip and trailed it along Aspen's bare arms. Aspen's screams pierced the eerie silence as her skin was burnt cruelly even at the slightest touch. Seeming to almost puzzled by the sound of her screams he brought into her unharmed cheek and put pressure against it until the skin beneath it had begun to sizzle and blood had dripped down to where it would stain her collar, and her mouth had opened in a silent scream.

Seeming to grow bored of burns, Mr Thomas put down the poker and swapped it for the rusted pair of scissors. Turning he seemed to assess Aspen liked a painter assessed his model. Mr Thomas assessed Aspen as she wretch dry sobs and had slumped in her chain, her eyelids dropping closer as the pain began to pull her into blissful unconsciousness.

Walking to the back of Aspen's chair, he pondered and after a moment seemed to make a decision. Determinedly he grabbed a huge chunk of Aspen's beautiful blonde hair and unevenly sawed. A huge clump of hair fell to the ground, but Mr Thomas didn't stop even as Aspen only had small patches of hair remaining and a few cuts on her scalp from where her father had been overenthusiastic with the scissors.

Throughout all of this, Aspen had remained still, silent, only just gripping onto a small thread of unconsciousness and hoping that he would just hurry up and kill her. Because she had no more hope, nobody that would care if this night ended with her no longer having a heartbeat and those who supposedly did would soon find other charity case to pretend to care about.

Just kill her, she wished, so that she could forget and be forgotten.

As the last clump of hair fell to the floor, the blood on her scalp had dried and her cheek had become numb with pain, something in the room had changed. A feeling, though Aspen could not describe what it was, and with it came a slowly growing light. If one was to peer into the brightening light you would see a womanly figure; with hair as red as Aspen's dried blood, eyes as brown as the chocolate Aspen had forgotten the taste of and high, golden wings protruding out her back and arching high above her head.

The look on her face was frightening; her anger seemed to shine through the way her lips were curved into a thin line and how her eyes were narrowed into small slits.

"You will not harm her" the woman ordered, her voice filled with menace

Then she flung her arms wide and from them erupted a blinding white light, filing to room with a supernatural light. Mr Thomas attempted to shield his eyes but he was not fast enough and his brown irises rolled upwards until only the whites of his eyes could be seen; his body collapsed and he lay in a crumpled heap on the floor covered with Aspen's hair.  

As he fell the white light faded until it was only a subtle glow emitting from the woman's skin. Now truly and utterly petrified, Aspen pulled frantically at her bonds even as they tore into her skin. The woman glided forward and stooped to become eye level with the frighten girl "It is alright, my child, you are safe now" her voice now sounded sweet and gentle "do you trust me?"

Surprising herself she nodded using the last of her strength. The woman's lips curved into a small, reassuring smile and outstretched her arms. Aspen then realised she was no longer bound, as her rescuer lifted her from the chair, as if she weighed nothing, and carried her like a baby; cradling her gently against her chest.

"I'm going to take you somewhere where you will be safe" she whispered "somewhere you will be loved and cared for. Somewhere where he can't reach you."