TRIGGER WARNING!

There are allusions to child abuse and molestation. It doesn't get particularly graphic but if it will trigger you please do not read!

My butterfly nightlight casts a pink radiance around my bedroom and the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling shine brightly. But his shadow is darker than them and he is stronger than me. At first I try to fight back, to bite and kick and punch, but his hands are like hammers as they collide with my soft skin.

He holds me down with his hammer hands and I can't move. So I stare up at the stars on my ceiling, pretending to be up with them. When it hurts too bad I squeeze my eyes shut tight and sing songs in my head. I learned long ago not to make any noise or it will only hurt worse.

I don't know what is happening but daddy says I'm his little angel. All I know is that his breath smells like beer when he's on top of me, and his skin gets sticky with sweat. I don't want to be daddy's angel; I want to have the power to make him stop breathing.

It happens at least once a week. Daddy comes into my bedroom late at night, stumbling and knocking my things over in his drunkenness. I wish mommy would let me stay in bed with her so I could be safe, but she says that I'm an annoying, lying, brat.

Mommy doesn't believe me. After the first night, about a year ago, I ran to her crying. There was blood on my legs but she still didn't believe me. The next night when daddy came back, he said I had to be punished. I never told anyone again.

I can hear his footsteps down the hallway. I throw the blankets over my head and clutch my teddy bear tightly, praying that he passes my door tonight. But his boots stop right outside my room and I can hear his heavy breathing. It makes me sick to my stomach.

With a creak my bedroom door slowly opens to reveal him standing there, taking up most of the doorway with his broad shoulders. Mommy says he's handsome but I think he is the ugliest thing god ever made. Then again, maybe it was the devil that made him.

I can't help but whimper from under the covers as tears stream down my cheeks. "I know you're awake angel, now make room for Daddy."

I can smell the alcohol on him from at least 10 feet away and I begin to sob. "No, no please daddy go away…"

He only chuckles and throws the blankets to the floor, leaving me exposed in only my nightgown. He looks at me with this horrible grin that fills me with fear. And suddenly, he's on top of me. "NO! Stop! Please stop daddy!" I thrash around, smashing my tiny fists against his chest.

"You know how it goes angel." His large hand covers my mouth so that I can barely whimper. "There's no way out."

"Cordelia wake up!" Firm but soft hands grip my shoulders and shake me. They aren't his hammer hands, they're gentle. "Please, wake up!"

My father begins to dissolve and my pink room fades away to a cream colored, much larger bedroom. Those soft hands are gripping my wrists. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the light and I find Misty Day beside me. The swamp witch's blue eyes are filled with tears and blood is trickling from a gash on her lip.

The fear and pain from my all too real nightmare are making my body shake, but Misty is shaking too. "Are you alright Delia?" her voice is small and rife with concern. "I heard you screamin' and cryin' and when I came to check on you, you were throwin' your arms all around and sobbing. You got one good shot in before I could hold you down."

I reach up and cup her cheek with trembling fingers. I didn't mean to hurt Misty. She's the only one who truly seems to care about me and I cherish her. "I'm so sorry Misty." I whisper as I examine her wound. It's not too serious but it looks painful.

"Dee…you uh, you said some stuff in your sleep…" my heart falls to the pit of my stomach and my mind screams for mw to run. Misty knows.

The swamp witch chews on her hair nervously, waiting for an answer. I decide to play dumb in hopes that she will let the subject drop. "What did I say?"

Misty looks back up at me. She's crying. "You were yellin' at your father to stop. He must have been hurtin' you real bad." She wipes her eyes and tries to hold herself together by wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

I don't want to talk about it. Just reliving those horrible memories in my dreams is too much; I can't talk about it with Misty. Even though it wasn't my fault, even though I couldn't stop it, I still feel ashamed.

To my surprise Misty reaches out and grasps my hand. "It's okay Delia. I was hurt like that too, back in my old life." Her beautiful voice breaks with each word. "I know how terrible it is and how sometimes the memories won't leave you be, but you're not alone Cordelia."

Tenderly, Misty wipes the tears from my cheeks with her thumb. No touch has ever felt so soothing. "Thank you." Is all I can manage.

Misty smiles her sweet smile and squeezes my hand. After a few long moments of us sitting in a shared, easy silence she gets up to leave. "Misty?" I begin anxiously as the swamp witch turns back to me, her wild hair falling into her eyes. "Would you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be alone…"

She grins widely and eagerly climbs into bed beside me. We easily curl up, with me as the little spoon. I can't remember ever feeling this safe before. "Have sweet dreams Dee." Misty kisses my forehead. "If you start cryin' I'll wake you up."

My whole body warms from her light kiss. With Misty's arms around me I trust that she'll protect me. Slowly we both drift off to sleep, and instead of nightmares I have peaceful visions of the beautiful swamp witch who found me in the darkness.