My Rose Does Bloom Ch. 00-02

Reading was my prime release, followed by masturbation. Masturbation was new to me, and I hadn't quite figured it out. I didn't know how to solve this riddle of horniness in my body. Don't get me wrong, I played with my pussy, but I just couldn't do it right and hadn't been able to get myself off. Eventually, I slept again, and this time dreamed of kissing Rose. Dreaming of Rose made my sleep sweet and peaceful, albeit a little guilt ridden.

Waking up the next morning, I noticed a musky smell permeating the room. My pussy had further soaked my panties with juice while I slept. Since it was early and my parents were still sleeping, I snuck to the bathroom, stripped and turned on the shower. The water was cold as usual because our water heater didn't work. Mother didn't notice, and I doubted she could rationalize any longer.

I exited the shower only to find my father lurking at the door. Grabbing a towel and covering my nude body, I looked at him with disgust. "Get out!"

"Why? Yous mine, I can fuckinlook," he said sluggishly, still recovering from the previous day's binge. His fat body was disgustingly ugly, with sloppy, bulging titties, and a jiggling, overhanging belly. All he had on were tight boxers, and his thick short penis protruded half erect from his shorts. He owned the word pathetic.

He walked over to the toilet and took hold of his dick to pee. "Holditforme?" He asked drunkenly as I closed the shower curtain and prayed, Please God, not today, just not today. After some time, a flow of urine began to stream into the water, making a sickening gurgling sound that made me queasy. He finished peeing, then I recognized familiar heaving and realized he was trying to vomit by sticking his fingers in his mouth, not even bothering to wash his piss laden hands.

A few minutes later he asked, "Baby, gemme a towel."

Hesitantly, I opened the curtain slightly and reached for one on the rack. He seized my hand and pulled me out of the shower. I stood in front of him, and he took hold of the end of my towel and pulled at it. "Stop it Daddy, I don't want to do this."

He was still very drunk, swaying back and forth with a glazed look in his bloodshot eyes. Slowly reaching for my towel, he almost tripped and used the side of the toilet to stop his fall and brace himself, then leaned over and breathed. The unpleasant smell of his body and breath was overwhelming.

I moved quickly to the other side of the small restroom, still blocked by his body from exiting the space. Turning, he came closer to me, smiling and licking his fat lips. He eased in to within a few inches of my face and asked, "Kissy?"

His breath smelled of vomit and alcohol. The stench reminded me of the day when he ran over my puppy and left it in the drive to rot, then blamed me for the animal's death because I let it out of the house. I hated him and had to forcefully keep from retching. I wanted to scream. How could he do this to me? Exploding with anger inside, I gathered my resolve and decided that was enough of this shit!

As he stuck out his fowl tongue, I shoved hard, pushing him with all of my strength. He staggered and reached for the shower curtain to steady himself. The curtain, unable to withstand his weight, ripped from the rod with consecutive popping sounds and he fell, hitting his head hard against the far edge of the tub.

He lay dazed for a few seconds, fat, slothful, sickening. I looked at him with disgust wanting him to die. Shaking his head to gain his senses, he turned his head and looked at me in anger, "You bitch!" Then he started heaving, and vomited nothing but spittle as blood flowed from his temple. Blood ran from his head and joined the salvia drooling from his mouth, making him look like a hungry animal, choking on his prey.

I watched for a few moments, frozen in place with terror, thinking that maybe I really hurt him. Then I smiled, as he stopped heaving and passed out in the tub. I was safe, at least for today. The smile quickly faded as I realized that I enjoyed the thought of him being dead.

I went to Becka's room; she was trembling. My heart broke, and I cursed my father again. This man would destroy everything around him if given the chance. I couldn't let that happen.

As I dressed her, she didn't say a word and stared absently straight ahead. Breaking the silence I said, "I'll take you to playschool baby, okay?"

She looked at me frightened. Then suddenly wrapped her arms around me and hugged tightly, sobbing and shaking, not understanding the hell of our household. I had to find a solution; this could not go on forever, if not for me, then for Becka.

She pulled away and wiped her nose with her shirt.

"You okay booger bear?" I asked her.

She nodded and looked a little better. "Choco?" she asked.

I smiled, choco was always a simple solution for Becka, a magic potion that always managed to change her mood. I figured what they said about chocolate must be correct, all that endorphin releasing mumbo-jumbo.

"Choco," I answered.

She smiled back at me. I swiped five dollars from my father's billfold, and we left. On the way, I bought Becka some chocolate milk; it was the least I could do to help make her life a little more bearable.

I had to permanently get out of the house and soon. But what would I do about Becka? I couldn't just leave her with my parents. Maybe Ms. Jensen was the answer. With her on my side, I had a chance to get out, if she could just figure out what to do with Becka.