2Chapter Two : Daily Acceptance of Death
"DOMINICA!" a drunken man yelled. He had gone up to check if his daughter was in bed and found her sneaking back in through her window.
"Daddy, I-" but she never got to finish her sentence. In the blink on an eye, her father pulled her through the window and threw her on the floor. She laid there as her head swam, feeling blood drip from her forehead.
The enraged man, her father, began to undo his belt buckle and pull the belt out of the loops of his jeans. He wrapped the belt around his hand once, the side without the buckle, and whipped her across the back.
She yelped and tried to get away, but he grabbed her arm and threw her face down on her bed. He pulled her gray plaid skirt up to her waist and started beating her backside with the belt buckle. She sobbed loudly, but did not beg for him to stop.
He had given her a beating before. His lashes were rapid, barley seconds in between, and that buckle that struck her flesh after awhile felt like it was heated. White hot pain began to surge through her, but all she could do was cry and clench her fists in the bed sheets.
When he was finished with the beating, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her off the beg. She didn't struggle, only winced at the pain, as he dragged her down the stairs. She hit her arm on the banister as he roughly pulled her toward him.
Opening the closet under the stairs, he threw her in and slammed the door shut, locking it. The room was completely dark and smelled heavily of dust. The cloest was empty except for a few tapped up, dust covered boxes, and a chest. She opened the chest, unseen dust rising up in the air, and pulled out a quilt that her mother had made, she had already passed on. She sighed and then laid down on her side, the floor cold, dirty cement, and covered up with the blanket.
This wasn't the first time she had been locked in there, and forgotten. The last time, he didn't let her out for three days. It wasn't that bad though. After all, perhaps God was punishing her for her sins. It was wrong of her to stab the woman and not kill her, she should of had a painless transition into eternal life. She should seek forgiveness.
"Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I accept from Your hands, whatever kind of death it may please You to send me tonight, with all its pains, penalties and sorrows, in reparation for my sins, for the souls in purgatory, for those conversion of sinners, for all those who will die tonight, and for Your greater glory." she recited. She said that prayer over and over again until sleep overcame her.
After her father threw her in the closet, he left the house to go to a bar. He stayed there until three in the morning, drinking shot after shot, until the bartender refused him service and told him to go home. Her father cursed at him and left in a rage. His licence was revoked, so he had to walk. He thought about dropping by the secret whore house, but he found his wallet to be empty except for a few coins. He cursed and hastily headed home.
The next morning, Dominica found her self in her bed. Her wrists were tied to the bedposts, he clothes were gone, and she felt sore between her legs. Her father had done it again. She was thankful that he only did it when she was asleep, or after he beat her into unconsciousness. She thought she was dying when she woke up after the first time he did it, there was so much blood. It happened shortly after her mother passed, three years ago.
Trying not to cry, she closed her eyes and began to pray,"Most Scared Heart of Jesus, I accept from Your hands, whatever kind of death it may please You to send me today, with all its pains, penalties and sorrows, in reparation for my sins, for the souls in purgatory, for those conversion of sinners, for all those who will die today, and for Your greater glory."
"Good Morning, Dominica." A man in his early thirties, with blond hair and blue eyes greeted her as she sat down on a bench in the local church. It was a small run down church, but a church non the less. It was the one place Dominica could come to find peace and she always sat in the front row next to this man. The people at church were like family to her. Only twelve other people, besides her, showed up every Sunday, including Father Viktor, who looked like a skinny Santa.
There was the Willsons, a couple in their early sixties. They were both still healthy with straight backs,but their hair had turned grey. Ms. Mimi was a brunette girl in her early twenties, she was Mr. Miller's , a man in his early seventies, niece and caretaker. Mrs. Prudence was a widow in her late fifties, her hair was white blond and she was blind in one of her gray-green eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Reed were newly weds in their early twenties. Mrs. Reed had strawberry blond hair and amber eyes, she was three months pregnant. Mr. Reed had black hair and brown eyes. They had gotten married in the church, a secret marriage, and had decided to join the church. Mr. and Mrs. Bruno where in their early thirties. They both had black hair, green eyes, and a heavy Italian accent. They had three children who looked very much like their parents. Alicia was ten years old, Henry was a year old, and Jason was fifteen.
"Good Morning, Mr. Gerard." Dominica said with a bright smile.
"How've you been?" he asked, noticing she had powdery white cover up on, dark ugly bruises beneath.
"I've been great."she responded happily.
"That's good." he said trying not to show his concern . If she could be this happy, and hadn't missed one day of church since she spontaneously showed up last year, then there was no reason to get involved.
It had been raining that day. It was the middle of church, and she suddenly came in and sat down in the front row soaking wet. Nobody said anything, not used to new comers, especially children coming on their own. Father Viktor just said good morning to her and she said good morning back with a smile. She had had a black eye and a bruise around her throat, but they where faded and could only be seen up close.
He had worried for her every day since then. He could always see the new bruises she tried to conceal. Nobody else would notice, but he was trained to see stuff like that. He had been staring at the floor, lost in thought, when he felt a cold little hand slip into his. Church had started and everyone was on their feet saying the opening prayer. Dominica was pulling on his hand to get his attention to join in.
He stood up and fell in place with the rest of the church,
"Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."