Disclaimer: This is all Libba Bray's
I crouch down next to Polly, putting my hand on her small shoulders. "Now Polly, you must promise me something. Promise me that you will lock your door before you go to bed. Promise?" She looks at me curiously. "Yes, Cousin."
I'm trembling as I say this. Its all coming back in a rush, a flood of memories long held in. Me. Small and thin, seven years old, eager to please my father in any way possible. A dark shadow at the door, shushing me. Pain. His hand over my mouth as I cry and struggle and fight. Telling me afterwards it is all my fault, only mine, for being such a wicked girl, for making him feel this way. I believe him. I am wicked; a horrid girl for tempting him like that. Its all my fault.
"And you must lock your door every night. Do not forget now Polly. It is very important." I smile as I say this, in what I hope is a reassuring way. "But why, Cousin?" she says "To keep the monsters out, of course." She looks at me worriedly. " But if I lock the door, Uncle can't sprinkle me with fairy dust."
My door did not have any locks. It stood open wide, waiting. He would creep in, almost guiltily, his breath smelling of his finest wine. My dear, I've come to sprinkle you with fairy dust he would say. But I knew better. You are so beautiful. Felicity he whispered. It's all your fault. You do this to me, I can not control it.
As I grew older, the nightly visits became less and less frequent. He began to look at me with disgust, a painful remainder of a past weakness. He now longer called me beautiful, no longer worshipped me. I tried and tried to please him, found I never could. That was all I was now, a girl so damaged not even her father wanted her. " I will sprinkle you with fairy dust, Polly. But you must keep Uncle out." This was one girl whose door would be closed, locked to keep monsters out, and innocence in.