Daddy’s Little Girl

By Scarlett Postance (aged 11)

His trial had been fixed for the next day. It was no big deal really. He was innocent anyway. But was he? Innocent until proven guilty; guilty until proven innocent. He paced alongside his bed, letting his mind run wild, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. How could he let this happen? It was the media’s fault, they let it go crazy, they were the one who made it this big thing- it wasn’t though, was it? Marie didn’t mind- he didn’t think. But his wife… no, he would think about that later.

Something catches his eye. He turns around, distraught at the sight of his daughter. Double taking, he realises that it is a picture. She is smiling. He misses her smile. The frame is sequined with small colourful bells and plastic gems. He remembers buying her that frame, for her birthday. She had had a horrible year her illness keeping her off school for months. That frame brought light to her dim life. It was his now.

He woke in the morning, with sweat dripping down his brow. Turning, he saw the clock: 4am. Ugh. 3 hours until his trial begun. He wasn’t scared, was he? He knew that he was innocent. But that small voice in his mind told him otherwise. His mind flashes back to the operating table. His wife begging him to stop, tears of anger and heartbreak rolling down her face. Marie was crying too, he thinks- he can’t really remember. He wonders where she is now. Dying, dead. Under lock and key, perhaps. He supposes that she was not deemed human anymore. Maybe he is the monster, not just her.

It was 5am now. He should start to get ready, it was half an hour walk to the court room, and he didn’t have a car. He walks down the hallway, past Marie’s room. He tries not to look in, but the temptation is too great. Toys are strewn across the room, along with two princess dresses that her and her friend wore last week. It seems like years ago now. He picks one up, a red and gold dress with flowers on in. He drops it immediately. Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Marie’s favourite. She would tell him in great detail how she would grow up and marry a beast, then when she kissed him, he would magically transform into the handsomest prince ever. He leaves the room.

When he is finally ready, he tours the house. This, after all, may be his final time here. He has looked through every room in the house. Well every room apart from the basement. He’s not sure if he wants to go back there, but for some reason, he longs to. Step by step, he gets closer, step by step the dread builds up in his stomach. At last, he reaches the door. Sweat builds up as he turns the doorknob and sees the room. A gasp escapes from his lips and his teary eyes threaten leak.

The ‘operating’ table sits where it was before, coated in dry blood, wires, circuit boards and screws scattered all over the place. What was he thinking. He was out of his mind. No wonder his wife left him. He thought he could save her, immortalising her. No. His phone buzzes. Time to go. He’s sure he will come home again. After all, he is innocent.

His walk to the court room was a long and tiring one. People stared, some screamed, all of them pointed, talking about him. One or two clasped their children to their chest in fear of him taking them away. He would never do that. He is not a monster, is he? All he did was… he never meant to… but did. His phone buzzes- it is his wife- sorry, ex-wife. She hasn’t spoken to him since she left. He reads the message, hoping it will be a good luck message for his sentence. No. Quite the opposite.

Whatever you have done to my daughter, I need to know.

Is she even still alive? A

He turns his phone off, sighing and shoves it in his pocket. By now- forty minutes into his hour walk he is used to the pointing, the fear. He just walked, head down, hands in pockets, trying his hardest to blend in with the crowd.

Once he reached the justice building, his heart started pounding. People gathered around him; at first he thought it was people who were dying to meet all the accused. It is only when the first camera flashes that he realises it’s the newspaper reporters. He pulls his jacket over his head, like Alcatraz prisoners trying to hide their identity.

At last he reached the court room. It was a small quiet room, with low ceilings and half-broken doors. Inside, a judge sat behind a high table. Unfortunately for him, she did not seem very forgiving. What he saw next almost stopped what heart he had left- on top of a stretcher was cloth covered body. It was small, he thought, small enough to be a child of around six… Marie. No, no this could not have happened. His baby girl… this was all his fault. Slowly, he walked forwards and sat down, trying his hardest not to display any emotion whatsoever. He failed- miserably. Tears rolled down his face and butterflies that felt like mosquitoes built up in his stomach.

The trial started okay, he thought it did not really involve him to start with. But then they brought forward the body and –to his horror- un-veiled it.

He couldn’t look. But he couldn’t draw his eyes away. Her body was worse than he could have imagined. Wires, screws, jagged metal was everywhere, on her nails, her hair, her arms and legs. What had he been thinking- how could he of done this. He thinks back to her smile; her laugh, the way he looked up to him.

The trial would start in a minute. He wasn’t scared though. After all, he was innocent- innocent until proven guilty.