Beautifully Destroyed (Beautifully Broken)

I focus on my breathing as I grab one of the bags while Dad takes the other two, and I follow him like a shadow out of Eli’s house.

I don’t even wonder how Dad got his truck to Southport and why he’s home early. I can’t think of anything except to not break down.

My muscles are so tense it feels as if they’re going to snap, and once we’re in the truck, we don’t talk while Dad drives us to Uncle Josh’s place.

Dad brings the truck to a screeching stop, and he rushes to get my luggage into the house. The moment he slams the front door shut behind us, my body begins to jerk with silent cries as the walls I’ve constructed inside me and fought so hard to maintain crumble to dust.

Dad yanks me to his chest, his arms forming steel bands of safety around me while I break.

“Finlay,” he groans, his voice filled with worry and heartache. Lifting me off my feet, he cradles me like he used to when I was a little girl and I had a nightmare.

My cries find their voice, sounding hauntingly broken.

“God, sweetheart. I knew something was very wrong. Why didn’t you tell me?” Dad says as he sits down on the couch, holding me tightly to his chest.

I shake my head as the tears finally come, burning shameful and distraught paths down my cheeks. “Daddy,” I croak.

“Shh… sweetheart. I’m here. Work through your emotions first. It’s okay.”

I shake my head, my chest so tight it physically hurts. The jerking in my body grows until it feels like I’m convulsing. “D-daddy,” I whimper, the trauma slamming into me from all sides. “H-he hurt m-me.”

“Who? Last week? In Naperville?”

I nod against his chest, keeping my eyes pinched shut and my face buried against his shirt as the horrifying attack burns over my lips.

“A man… broke… into the house. He restrained me… in the basement… and raped me.”

Dad’s body jerks against mine as if I physically punched him. “Christ, Finlay,” he whispers, his tone heartbreakingly devastated. “My baby,” he groans, the shivering in my body echoing through his.

Dad just holds me as I unleash all the horrible emotions and the nightmare’s that formed a dark cloud over my life. My pain howls around us with the force of a hurricane.

I’m physically, emotionally, and mentally drained by the time Dad’s breathing evens out and he manages to calm down. “Did you report it?”

I nod, lost sobs drifting over my dry lips. “I called 911 as soon as I woke up.”

“Woke up?” Dad asks.

Keeping my face hidden, my tone is forlorn and tormented as I say, “I passed out… while he was raping me… and woke up in my bed. He cleaned… everything. There’s no evidence… that he was there. I had to leave.”

“You did the right thing, Fin. I’m glad you came here. I want the name and number of the officer that’s dealing with your case.”

I nod, feeling weak from finally getting to break down.

There’s a moment’s silence, then Dad asks, “What can I do?” he clears his throat. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” I whisper, burrowing as close to Dad as I can get. “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.” His arms tighten around me while the room grows dark around us. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe.”

Hearing the overwhelming guilt in Dad’s voice, I pull back and raise my eyes to his. “Don’t, Daddy. It’s not your fault. I should’ve… been more careful. I have no idea how he got inside. There were no signs of forced entry.”

“Still, I have one job, and that’s to protect my baby girl.”

I shake my head. “You can’t protect me from everything in life.” I don’t know where the words are coming from, nor the strength to say them. I don’t want Dad blaming himself for what happened to me.

Dad’s palm cups my cheek, and he gently brushes the tears from my skin with his thumb. Our eyes lock, and I see my trauma darkening Dad’s gray eyes.

He can feel my pain. That’s how close we are.

My chin begins to quiver again, and it makes Dad’s eyes brim with tears. “I’m so sorry, Fin. God, I’m so sorry.”

I hiccup on a sob, my face crumbling again. Dad pulls me back to his chest, and it feels like he’s trying to wrap his entire body around mine to keep me safe.

“It… hurt… so much… Daddy,” I cry. The trauma blackens around me, the horrifying memories clawing at my skin as if they’re trying to rip through me. “It was creepy… and disgusting… and disturbing… and unbearable and…” A cry cuts off my words, and I struggle to breathe through the hell. “I-I was a virgin, Daddy.”

“Fin.” Dad’s voice is nothing but a heartbreaking gasp, then he cries, “Christ, sweetheart!”