Baby Girl By D. Williams When living in the ghetto, pretty, young girls do not remain virgins very long. In the Alameda projects it is known as `the passage of time' when a young unwed girl was no longer a virgin, or as the older women called it, ‘became ruined’. The choices were few. Rev. Dell Carlton, at Oakmont Church of God in Christ would perform these Thursday night weddings, between the girl and her reluctant groom. Everyone in the neighborhood knew exactly what was taking place when seeing the church office lights on, and a parked car in the back lot. Some sobbing girl with doorknob sized breasts is being forced to marry a boy with less pubic hair than a sewer rat. Through his snide smile, and sarcastic jibes, Rev. Carlton had his ways of airing his displeasure toward the young couple. One way was performing the ceremony in his office, instead of at the altar. The other is not having the traditional wedding vows spoken. He would recite something just legal enough to make it binding by law. Afterward, the young couple would be on their way to stay at either of their parent's home. Not having a bastard child seemed to be the only saving grace to the whole affair. The real mark of shame came when the church secretary would let the malicious gossip leak, a new virgin made the passage of time. The first step…..the calculated risk, the reason. Therefore, it had been with Ricky Davidson’s best friend, Carla Stevenson. Her ‘passage of time’ had arrived. This night is to be her coming of age party. A time when all the giggles and shyness would make her blush as her young suitor sees her nude for the first time. It is a moment when all the emotions would race uncontrolled throughout her body and mind. Times like this, during the past few years, saw the height of her dormant puberty finally peak. Feelings surged each night she slept, awakening from yet another moist erotic dream. Carla fantasized in her heart the night she officially became a woman would be a night she would never forget, and she was right. The night turned out very different than she ever imagined. Fingers of light reached through the cracks of the boarded bakery, illuminating the broken shards of multi colored glass, and pieces of marble scattered across an already pebble strewn bare carpet-less floor. This chilly cement surface replaced the smooth red satin sheets resting on a heart shaped waterbed in a warm honeymoon suite, which had always laced her dreams. Her knight in shinning silk pajamas did not romantically dash into the room, and gently sweep her off her feet. Carla’s hero did not magically appear to grant her every whim, and cater to a young girl’s passion, making her feel like she was the queen who commanded all she surveyed. The Romeo of her fantasies did not waltz her around a moon lit patio, carefully balancing two tall glasses of sparkling champagne. His words were not soft and caring, nor did he whisper the predilections young girls yearn to hear on their honeymoon night. Instead, her knight was a strong burly man in his mid forties. Wearing oil stained overalls, and clutching a cheap can of beer. He nervously tugged at his crouch, and rubbed the back of his neck, in restless anticipation for his preconceived plan. The assailants' four-day beard growth scratched and gauged at her soft velvet neckline. With his arms bulging, he panted with the eagerness of a young boy discovering the joys of masturbation. Foul breath and the rancid odor from his unwashed genitals permeated the air around Carla. Every few minutes the sexual predator would stop and look into his victim's tear filled eyes and apologize for his actions. "You, you ah' just got to understand.” He pleaded, thrusting harder as his climax neared. "This is a calculated risk for me too." He moaned. Carla stared past him, and focused on the pigeon above, perched silently on a crossbeam watching with curiosity the horror below. She thought to herself glancing at the opened note she dropped on the floor left for her by this unsuspecting deviant. The signed note simply read, ‘Carla, please meet me at Shannon’s Bakery.’ A request authored by someone who had never harmed her before, so she figured, although an odd meeting place, why not. Slipping into a dream state, she thought about happier days. Journeying back to a childhood past, which had known little girl games; Hop Scotch, Jump Rope, Four Square, Jacks, and playing house with broken second hand dolls and carefully constructed card board doll houses. It was a time when she would sit for hours using her mother's brushes to comb her long auburn hair. Her hair now stained with blood from the constant scraping of her head against the menagerie filled jagged floor. This young fifteen year old no longer shivered from having her bare back on the cold surface. Numbness had long since set in. She winced with every harsh movement as the loose gravel and bits of broken glass cut into her buttocks. Carla thought to her self, as the assault seemed to never end, perhaps somehow it was her fault. Is it because she is naturally pretty? Could it be the way she slightly bit her bottom lip to one side as she smiles, not knowing that it drives men crazy? His deep guttural moan awakened her from her reverie. Looking at her with a grin he said, "I mean if it wasn't going to be me baby girl, it would have been somebody else. Ah' yeah, mmmmm, to be honest it makes no sense to waste this on some punk, in the back seat of some smelly, beat up old car. You might as well enjoy a little of this, ooooooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, here it comes. Yes, Yes, Yes…baby girl, this is some **** good *****! **** girl, you almost gave me a heart attack." he said, releasing a long deep sigh. She felt the hot surge of semen splash against her uterus, and grimaced as he gave a few final thrusts. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Standing up he cupped his forefinger and thumb around the appendage and wiped the excess semen, sending droplets flying onto Carla’s face, and already sweat soaked breasts. While dressing he began issuing warnings, to keep her mouth shut. “You know girl you can’t say anything to anybody, about this…. if your aunt knew she would kill me.” “After all, I am your daddy. People tend to look down on stuff like this. Hell, they do it in the white folk’s homes all the time.” He said, chuckling. “The difference is nobody knows it.” He finished, giving a final yank to his pant zipper. “Can you do it again, daddy? I kind of liked it.” Carla asked timidly. He paused. “See baby girl, I knew you were into it all the time. You were just holding your emotions back. You gotta let it out, ain’t nobody can hear you in here. It is the Blackanese in you. One part Vietnamese and one part Black. The freak side of your nature, you got from your mama is coming out, God rest her soul. Back then, Vietnam was quite an education for me. Just one ‘basket ****’ and a ‘around the world’ and she had me hooked, so we got married. Girl, your mama could really shake the sheets. It was like a circus underneath the covers, every moment was a three-ring event. She would holler, “Me love you long time, long time G.I. Hell. Even after we got married, she would still say that love you long time ****.” her father said laughingly. “We’ll come back here in a couple of days, maybe tomorrow, and I’ll be glad to lay this pipe on you again. There is no need to rush things. Next time bring a blanket, coat, or something. Your back must be pretty messed up. When you get home take a warm bath with a little hair grease and some lard mixed in the water, then you’ll be okay,” he said with a broad ****-eating grin. "Now, because you’re fresh, you also need to go get some Vinegar and flush yourself out so’s you don’t get pregnant. This way everyone will still think you’re a ripe young virgin,” Henry finished, putting a flame to a fresh cigar. Carla continued to lay prostrate on the floor. Clutched in her right hand a sharp triangular piece of glass she carefully retrieved from the rubble during her assault. “Daddy, please, me love you long time. Mama used to say that to you when she was a young girl, right,” she asked, suggestively moving her hips with a seductive look on her face. Then she slightly bit her bottom lip, and silently mouthed, “Come get this, come get this.” Henry stood silent still relishing the sight of the young girl with picture perfect breasts and flawless curves. Even through the grime, and sweat this jewel of the ghetto still shined. Not figuring on a bonus round, the thought of another quick romp became intriguing the longer he stared at her nude frame. “Me give you blow job, love you long time. Please, tell me what to do daddy. Love you long time, long time,” she said in her worse degrading Asian dialect. He dropped his pants and stood, legs straddled, before his only daughter. “Oh baby, that’s real easy. I will just stand here and close my eyes, you just get up on your knees and suck it like a lollipop, and Daddy will let you know when to stop. Girl, you remind me so much of your mama, it’s a shame.” he gleefully answered. “Too bad she died of an overdose. Crack whores don’t last long anyway. Once you’re a ho, always a ho,” he added. Through the back pain, she struggled to her knees, and rubbed the back of his hairy, muscular left leg with her hand. Henry responded by opening his legs even wider, and taking a rigid stance to give her free access to his now fully erect penis. “Oh Lord, forgive me,” he mocked with a wide comical grin on his face, looking towards the ceiling. Carla began kissing the inside of his sweaty leg working her way up to his genitals. She slowly positioned the sharp piece of glass to his femoral artery then forcefully thrust the broken slice of goblet into his leg. With a quick motion, she pulled the glass from the rear to the front of his leg, causing a fountain of blood bathing over her hand. Henry Stevenson gasped and floated to the floor, his body trembling. He glanced over at her and died. Carla sat back numb, wrapped her hands around her knees, and watched the river of blood flow around her feet. “Was it as good for you daddy, as it was for me,” she sarcastically asked. Startled she woke from the nightmare that again visited her while she slept, to the sound of the voice from her longtime friend Ricky who lightly shook her. “Baby girl, baby girl, wake up. It’ll be ok. Wake up,” he said with concern. Instinctively, she sprung to a martial arts stance with a kick, pausing with the heel of her foot one inch from the bridge of Ricky’s nose. Ricky stood frozen, and quite nervous. Realizing a completed kick would render him crippled he spoke very softly. “Ok baby girl…it’s ok…you had another nightmare. You fell asleep while watching TV. You have been tossing and turning for the last couple of hours, and then in the past fifteen minutes or so…you started talking in your sleep…and saying some bizarre ****. So I decided to wake you. It seemed real bad this time,” Ricky said with his eyes still fixed at her foot. Carla stood frozen in a trance staring at her old friend. The minutes she stood rigid, seemed like hours. With his heart racing, Ricky decided to break the silence and speak again. “Hey baby girl, same nightmare, new day? It’s Ricky. Carla, it’s me. Are you with me,” he asked, with a gentle voice. He watched her slowly drop her foot, and relax her stance. She bounced around the living room like a boxer pacing the confines of the ring after a prize-winning fight, and then plopped down on the carpet. “Same nightmare, you ask? No, it’s the same reality, same life, just a new day. Getting stranger and stranger each time, now finding myself dreaming within a dream. This nightmare is tearing at my soul,” she said, curling in a fetus position. “The same rape, but this time while I’m being raped, I began dreaming about my childhood. I want to kill him for what he did to me. I want him dead Ricky, real dead,” she exclaimed. Ricky sat down next to her, took her hand and said, “Your nightmares are growing worse. I am beginning to worry about you. I know how bad you’ve had it growing up. Losing your mom to drugs when you were ten years old, and then the rape by your ******* of a father is enough to drive anyone over the edge. You stood the test of time on this one baby girl. In just a little while, it will be over. Did you make the arrangements for lunch with Henry,” he asked. “Yes, we are going to lunch tomorrow at Jack London Square. Sometimes I wonder if you really know how hard this is for me Ricky,” she replied. “I know, Carla, I know. Just keep doing what you’re doing for another week or so and we’ll put it all into action,” he answered, with assurance. The second step….Saturday afternoon, at Jack London Square, the setup. Henry and Carla sat comfortably at the sidewalk café waiting for their lobster order, sipping wine and chatting. Actually Henry did most of the chatting. Carla answered questions, and would occasionally make a comment. She found it nauseating to sit and make idle conversation with a man whom had raped her. Yet she trusted Ricky, who asked her to make peace with her father, and pretend to be his loving daughter again. She had not spoken to him in eight years. At this point, even Henry had been surprised at the last few months of this sudden change in his daughter’s attitude towards him. After she moved out at the young age of seventeen, he hoped he would never see her again. Nevertheless, he dismissed his suspicions with the arrogant belief he was actually a good father. “Just want to let you know I really appreciate you opening up and talking to me again. You know it is best to let the past be the past. There is no need to hold any grudges. Forgive and forget. You know what I mean? What you about twenty five, twenty six now,” Henry said, lighting a cigar, leering at a young girl who was leaving the restaurant with her parents. Carla looked at him and mumbled, “Same old son of a *****, that girl can’t be any more than thirteen years old. Look at him. Waste of human flesh. I hate him. The bastard does not even know the age of his only daughter. No apology, no regret for what he's done.” “What was that you said, baby? I didn’t hear you. You say something honey,” Henry asked, never turning his head from the young girl as she climbed in the back seat of her parents SUV. Accidentally, the girls’ sandal fell off her foot and fell to the street, and then Henry quickly stood up. Carla saw what he was about to do and rushed over to the vehicle, picked the sandal from the curb and handed it to her. “Here you go honey.” Carla said. “Thank you,” the young girl politely replied. Her parents turned and, with a head nod, acknowledged thanks to Carla, who they did not perceive as a threat while they pulled away from the curb. Carla walked back to their table with a sense of satisfaction in ruining Henry’s moment. “Well baby girl, what have you been up to lately? Are you working….going to school? Anything I can do for you,” he asked her, taking his seat while still not looking directly at her. He was preoccupied surveying the activities on the wharf. Carla cringed each time he called her baby girl. She wanted to take the knife on her table and stab him in the heart. She spoke loudly to interrupt his gazing. “Oh, just going to school part time, and working. Just been thinking about starting a business. I’ve made a real good friend named Ricky. He’s helping with a few things. No, don’t need anything. Hey, Hen…uh dad, our food is here. Let’s eat,” she said. Being around Henry made her feel dirty, and after each meeting she would either go home or to Ricky's and take a long hot shower. The remainder of their visit went by quickly. When the meal ended, it took every ounce of her strength to hug him as they prepared to depart. “Ok, baby girl. Let’s do this again next week-end. This time come over to South Shore. You haven’t been there. I’ll cook for you. Love to have you over, hell; you can even spend the night. The condominium has a terrific view of the Oakland, San Francisco Bay Bridge. What do you say,” Henry asked, looking at her body instead of her face. Carla felt him stripping her naked. She stared at him with hidden disgust. Ricky had waited on this moment. He had told Carla, her father must initiate the invitation to his place. If she asked, he would get suspicious. Months of lunches, dinners and listening to this pathetic human were about to pay off. Carla knew she had to present the right amount of hesitation. An answer too quickly would trigger an alert. Henry’s fixed glare on her thighs became mesmerizing. He let his eyes slowly roll up and down her body, ignoring her cold calculated stares. “Well daddy, I don’t know. I have to check to see if I’m doing anything,” she said drawing his attention to her face. “Look honey, I insist. In fact, you can come over early in the afternoon and take a swim. It’s going to be well into the hundred’s and we have a nice pool. Tell you what, you come over and you can even do the cooking. I lied before I’m not very good at cooking. Can you cook, please,” Henry asked in a meek, pleading little boy voice. Beads of sweat began rolling down the temples onto his well-groomed beard. Henry stroked his crotch thinking this to be the perfect opportunity to re-visit his only child's body. “Ok, I guess. You sure there will be no problems, spending the night? What about your girlfriend, is she ok with this,” she questioned, and began squirming with her best little girl imitation. "No sweetheart, no problem. Not with anyone right now, free as a bird. So we'll be all alone...you know to really catch up on lost time," he eagerly replied. After agreeing, Carla said her goodbyes and left. When she arrived back at Ricky's house she walked into the living room, dropped her purse on the couch and headed to the bedroom. Ricky stood at the kitchen counter preparing a sandwich and greeted her, "Hey baby girl, how did everything go?" "You piss me off so don't you start with me," she snapped, still on her way to the spare bedroom where she kept a change of clothes. I'll talk to you later old man. I have to take a shower and wash all this filth off of me," she said angrily, with her fists tightly balled. Later that evening Carla and Ricky sat outside on the patio, and watched the glitter of the Oakland skyline. Ricky looked at her and said with patience, "Like I've said Carla, you can only kill something once. Yet making a person's life a living nightmare without them knowing who is responsible is sweet. Now that is revenge.” “I can understand why you don't want this to take place back at Shannon's Bakery. There would be memories, which would get in the way. So it must be at his place, actually it is a perfect backdrop for this type of revenge. The package I told you about arrived from New Mexico today. Don’t be afraid. Just go through the motions, and don’t get nervous. I know how much you hate him, but this will bring some closure. If not, we have hundreds of ideas sent in by victimized women from all over the country to your web site, Baby Girl Dot Com. I’m just glad I could help by thinking of this one for you," he finished, waiting for a reply. She looked at her friend and said, "I don't want to talk about it anymore. We need to do this and get it over with, and no, this will not be enough. I want his life to be a living hell." The third step…..Saturday night at Henry Stevenson's South Shore Condominium - The revenge. During the day, Carla played her part well. She wore a sexy swimsuit. Tanned by the pool, and purposely teased her father. At one point, she ran to the bathroom to vomit because of the rape memory, which crept up while setting the ultimate trap for revenge. In Henry's luxurious condominium the warm night served as a perfect excuse to keep the balcony doors open. Carla entered the living room from the shower draped in a short silk robe. The soft breeze heightened the mood as it lightly lifted a corner of the robe exposing her long bare legs. She sat in the middle of the Persian rug and gestured to her father who watched her every move. Henry found the courage to speak up. "You know baby girl...you’re not a kid anymore, and uh...hahahaha, you know...uh...times are hard for everybody. If you could use a couple hundred dollars...you know just to help you get through school and all...you are in school aren't you? I was just thinking...Hey, you know, a little somethin’, somethin’," he said, making sexually suggestive facial expressions. Not wanting to drag this game out any further, Carla got on her knees, and called to him with her index finger. She summoned all the strength she had inside and said, "C’mon daddy, let’s do this…....what are you waiting for? I am so ready." Henry walked over to her and readily dropped his pants, exposing his already erect penis. As Carla started stroking his muscular legs, Henry readied himself with a Superman like stance and closed his eyes. She retrieved a matchbox from her robe pocket. Slid it open and dumped four sedated scorpions in the crotch of Henry's underwear. She coughed loudly signaling Ricky who had been listening at the front door. Carla watched the Scorpions as they awakened from their sedation. Suddenly, a horrendous knock rumbled the front door causing nearby hanging pictures to tilt from their positions. An angry boisterous voice rang out, "Carla, Carla you in there? I want my money *****," Ricky shouted. Henry became startled and quickly reached down instinctively pulling up his pants. "Who the hell is...?” Before he could complete his sentence, he felt the repeated sting of the scorpions snug on his genitals. “Daddy, daddy what’s wrong with you…daddy!” Carla excitedly asked springing to her feet. "Aghhh, oh my God...aghhh, please." He begged, struggling to take his pants back off. Henry looked at Carla, and said, I think a spider bi, bi, bi…….call…the, the…” Before he could finish his plea, he floated to the floor. His body vibrated with pain and he passed out. Carla rushed to let Ricky into the lush surroundings. "****," Ricky said, walking over to Henry to check his pulse. "**** is right. Actually this is a double ****," Carla responded. Ricky and Carla stood silent for a moment gazing at Henry lying in a fetal position on the carpet, with his hands cupped around the extremely large bulge in his pants. Dragging his body into the bedroom, they took off his clothes, retrieved the now dead Scorpions, and placed him naked on top of his bed covers. Ricky said, "Well Carla, this is what Baby Girl Dot Com is all about, revenge not death. Even though he looks dead, he isn’t. Those scorpions are not fatal, just painful." "Are those big lumps his…?” Carla hesitated in finishing her question. "Yep baby girl, those are his balls, his very swollen balls, and the shriveled piece of meat hiding and looking afraid is his ****. Before we leave, we’ll take all the pain relievers out of his medicine cabinet, and the ice from his freezer. When he wakes up in the morning, he won’t get any relief. He'll be in pain…uh…. you want to finish it for me baby girl, “Ricky laughingly asked Carla, waving his hands back and forth with a series of finger snaps. "For a long, long time," she said with a hearty laugh. "For a long, long time."