Even the Sun Sets in Paradise

That evening, I was sitting in my room, attempting to make a start on my Art project. Ellis and the rest of the guys were playing their usual fortnightly gig at the local pub, and Auntie Julie was downstairs cooking dinner. Uncle Dave was still at work so the house was almost empty. My stepdad George had been ringing me all day and left me several messages. I was terrified to listen to them, but I knew George, and I knew he always got what he wanted one way or another. I had to find out what he was after now. Hands shaking, I dialled voicemail, and listened to the message.
“I know it’s you Princess, so you ring me now. I’m not in the mood for your childish games so you stop messing me around. Be a good little girl and ring your daddy back, yeah? Otherwise, there will be consequences,” he hissed in that creepy voice that sent shivers down my spine. I’d give anything to go back to the days when I thought voices like that only existed in horror films. My mind flashed back to that day when George had first moved in with us. I was six, and I’d accidentally spilt my juice over one of his jumpers. He had promised to spend the rest of his life making mine hell. From that day forwards, I was absolutely terrified of him, but little did I know quite what he had in store for those miserable, painful, torturous years that followed.
I opened my bedroom door and crept down the hallway, checking that no one was nearby. Then, heart racing, I dialled the number and awaited the sound of the voice that had haunted me every day and every night for the past nine years.
“Hello Jenna, I knew you’d ring,” he whispered huskily, “How’s daddy’s little Princess?”
“You’re not my dad,” I said quietly, fighting back tears.
“Don’t argue with me,” he chuckled to himself. I remained silent, wondering what he could possibly want of me now.
“Where are you now then?” Even though he was in prison, I couldn’t risk him finding out where I was. But I couldn’t risk lying to him either. Instead, I said nothing.
“Princess, I asked you a question. Now you can ignore me as much as you want but you will do as I say whether you like it or not.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I want you to tell the police that everything you told them about me is a lie, tell them that I’m innocent and I don’t deserve any of this,” he demanded.
“It’s too late, they have proof,” I said simply.
“You tell them that you begged me, you threatened to break me and your mum up, you threatened to tell her all sorts of lies, you kept going on and on until I finally gave in.”
“It doesn’t make any difference, you still go to prison!”
“Princess, it’s likely the prison sentence for consensual sex with a minor is less than that for rape.”
“You would never get away with that.”
“Oh I will,” he hissed, “And you’ll make sure of it.”
“What about the rest of it? What about the blackmail and the abuse?”
“You tell them you made it all up. You tell them that I put an end to what was going on between us, you didn’t take well to rejection, and therefore you made up a bunch of cruel and twisted lies about me to get some sort of sick revenge. There’s no proof, no witnesses, no conviction. I tell them your injuries were self-inflicted so to frame me. It’s your word against mine Princess. If you tell them everything you said was a lie, my case will be reviewed and my prison sentence will be shortened.” A tear slipped silently down my cheek. Part of me knew that it had already gone too far and there was no way he would get away with it this time. But then that voice in the back of my head reminded me that this man had managed to make my life hell for nine years without anyone finding out. Not only was he pure evil; he was genius too. He was right; there were no witnesses - none that would confess anyway. There was no evidence of physical abuse or blackmail. It wouldn’t surprise me if, in a year from now, I was in prison for perverting the course of justice, and he was walking free.
“I’m not doing it!” I cried suddenly, determined not to let him manipulate me like this.
“Excuse me?” he choked.
“You heard. What’s done is done; you’re in prison now and you will be for a very long time. You don’t scare me,” I said calmly, trying to sound confident.
“It’s been what, a month maybe, and you’ve already turned in to a right bitch, haven’t you? Just you wait; I will get what I want somehow. You better watch your back or that pretty face won’t be so pretty anymore,” he paused for a second, “Princess.” The line went dead. I threw my phone onto the floor, burying my head into my pillow so no one would hear me crying. What the hell could I do now? I wished I was anywhere but here. I wished I could run away and escape this all so I’d never have to face anyone ever again. All through the trial, all through the sentencing, all through everything, I’d been looking forward to coming here and making a new start. It turns out that when George told me there was no escape, he wasn’t lying. Once again, I felt trapped and isolated and hopeless. I couldn’t risk telling anyone, not after last time. There was no way out. No matter where I went, I was never safe. There wasn’t a way out of it this time. Even locked up in a high security prison, he still scared me to death. I hated how I let him have so much power over me. I hated how I let him control every aspect of my life. I hated how no matter how much I tried to convince myself I was safe, deep down I knew I’d never escape his torture.