THE LAST STRAW

GINGER: The night is too quiet, and I am trying hard to sleep after forcing myself to eat just to stay alive. Alive in the sense that I could get shot if I refuse to eat the food Daddy dearest has provided. My eyes are tightly shut, and I clutch the blanket to my chest, trying to distract my ever-racing heart. That is when a bang comes at the door of the room, sending my heart lurching out of my chest. My father is angry, and I can tell from the way the handle keeps rattling, with the door shaking under the weight of his fists. “Open the damn door, Ginger!” His voice booms like thunder, rough and unhinged. I want to, but my body is frozen, and I fear what he might do. The window is wired shut, because he made sure I will not be able to escape him. My body remains locked in place by sheer terror. The knot in my throat swells. “Open up, you ungrateful brat!” My heart slams against my ribcage. I inch back until my body hits the bedstead, and then I hear a bang. This time, it is not his ha