donna cleveland show

The next Saturday night looked to follow the same as the others, but even as Sarah awoke just after midnight there was a greater urgency. Perhaps it was the fact that without school that day she had been lazing around for most of it, or perhaps the fact that her nightly drinks weren’t enough to satiate her anymore. As usual Sarah strode in through the open door of her father’s room, not bothering to tiptoe anymore knowing it wasn’t necessary. With a gentle flick the sheets of her father’s bed came sliding off and fell to the floor. Sarah crawled like a cat onto the bed, she had stopped wearing clothes a few nights before and her modest bosom grazed the top of his legs as she made her way up to her usual spot.

He gave the man a hard poke in the chest while smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers, then leaned in with bloodlust radiating from every word hissed with his icy voice. “Notice that I haven’t asked your name yet, even though I gave you mine? It’s because you don’t have a name to me. To me, you’re just ‘Bitch’, the sniveling little Bitch who decided to come in here and ruin my evening, talking awfully big game for someone in skull-fucking range. That’s what’ll be engraved on your tombstone: ‘Here lies Bitch. Cause of death: got skull-fucked until his brains leaked out of his ears.’ Shit, I’ll carve the engraving myself. Now I suggest you get the fuck out before I use your eye sockets like a whore’s ass!”

She jolted back to reality when her dad plopped down on the couch by her feet. As usual he turned on the TV just for the quiet background noise and for something to stare at and ate his dinner as fast as he could. When he was finished, he put his bowl down on the coffee table.