Not Leaving Tonight

"I have to go, Anna, and you can't tell anyone when I go," Leslie crammed more items into her overflowing suitcase. Slamming it, she struggled to zip it tight. Bulges pressed against the seams. Shoving it under her bed, she looked at her sister.

"Does it hurt?" Anna whispered when she looked up at her sister's disheveled state.

"Yeah, it will heal," Leslie's voice was tight and a cringe escaped her lips when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her eye was swelling shut. Great, she thought, another 3 days without going to school, guess it will be the flu this time.

"What happened?" Anna asked knowing her father's rages all to well.

"I didn't clean a dish well enough," Leslie hugged herself trying to stop shivering. Taking a deep breath she looked at her little sister, "I have to leave because it is getting worse. He was going to do more than just hit me tonight."

A shiver passed through Leslie's body when she remembered the look of lust that flamed in her father's eyes after he ripped open her blouse.

"But what will happen to me?" Anna stood behind her sister, looking at her in the mirror. Sorrow touched her small, round nine year old face, breaking Leslie's heart.

"I don't know, honey, but I can't stay," Leslie turned and wrapped her arms around Anna pulling her into a close embrace.

"Go to bed, now," Leslie whispered against her sister's hair, "I'm not going tonight."

Leslie tucked in her sister and went down the stair's to the liquor cabinet. She knew that her father wouldn't be home until after the bars closed. Opening the cabinet door, she took every bottle out and brought them to the kitchen sink. One by one, she poured vodka, rum, whiskey and the flavored liquors her father adored down the drain. A deep peace overcame her as the alcohol flowed into the drain. When the last drop slid into the drain, a feeling of joy shot through her soul, and crested into an erotic pleasure with the smashing of each bottle against the counter top.

She was in a trance and did not notice how methodically she was emptying the bottles then smashing them. She didn't notice her fingers bleeding or her sister in the shadows.

After destroying the bottles, Leslie walked over the broken glass littering the kitchen floor and went to her father's room. She reached up on top of the gun safe, pulled down the key, opened the safe, pulled out his favorite shot gun, grabbed two shells and left the room leaving a bloody trail of footprints behind her.

Loading the gun with wet, slippery hands, Leslie sat on the couch and watched the front door waiting for her father to come home. She would not be leaving after all. A smile of calm touched her lips when she pointed the gun at the door waiting for it to open.