Sacrificial Lamb

I took a moment, how long it was I could not say, to take in what had happened. Had my father fucked his daughter willingly? I believe he did, but to this day I do not know who he came into, me or my mother; perhaps it was a blessed union of the two. I got up and removed my mother's dress, hung it in the closet then left the master to his sleep. As I walked away his cum ran down my leg, I stopped only to admire the sight. I felt the warmth of my mother's embrace as I went into my room to rest. I had performed to her husband expectations, pleased him in a way only she could, and healed his soul; my mother was proud.

The next day I awoke to new man, my father clean and shaved knocked on my door to wake me up, he did not say a word to me, but stayed to watch me dress. We went down stairs and he grabbed my hand as we looked at the plate. We stood in silence, and then began to pick up the pieces together. We picked up even the smallest pieces by hand and put them into a collection plate. We placed all the remnants into one of my mother's old shoe boxes. As I sealed the box my father went outside and dug a small whole in our backyard. We placed the brown box in the ground together. Kneeling at my mother's grave site, my father and I said a silent prayer. We covered the earth with our hands and patted it softly.