by
As I lay in bed, tossing and turning, I couldn't help but feel the weight of my father's gaze. He was watching me - his 18-year-old daughter - waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
I don't know how long he'd been there, lurking in the shadows, but I could feel his presence. It was almost as if he was a ghost, haunting me in the night.
I had no idea what he wanted, or what he was planning, but I knew it wasn't good.
He'd been acting strangely ever since mom went away on her business trip.
Maybe it was the wine, or the fact that he was lonely, but there was something else there, too.
A dark and sinister force that seemed to emanate from him.
I felt his gaze upon my body, watching me as I slept. It was as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
I knew I should have been scared, or at least concerned, but there was a part of me that was intrigued.
There was a part of me that wanted to know what he was up to.
Suddenly, the door to my room creaked open and I felt a chill run down my spine.
"Daddy?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Yes, baby girl, it's me." His voice was deep and husky, like he was a stranger.
"What are you doing here?" I sat up in bed, my heart racing.
"I just wanted to come and check on you."
"I'm fine, daddy, really." I tried to sound confident, but my voice betrayed me.
"Are you sure? You seem a little...tense."
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
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