Once upon a time, Sarah would smile when her door creaked open at night. If she was still awake, she would lie still and smile, eyes shut tight, awaiting the kiss on her forehead. Even with her eyes closed, she knew her father was standing over her, lingering, smiling, before ruffling her hair and walking out. Those were precious moments, half remembered, from only last year, before the accident.

These days, Sarah would frown when the door opened. She was always awake, as sleep came to her rarely these days and never easily. She would lie still, frozen, as the footsteps advanced on her. No kiss came to her forehead. Instead, a hand would start at her budding breasts, groping them, before siding down. She would part her legs, still and silent. Fighting it only hurt her more. He didn’t hurt her ... much, if she complied. Then he would touch her sex, no panties anymore for her, stroking her. He would tower over her, her eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over. Sometimes, he would simply jack off onto her. Some days he made her do it. The worst was the days he got in bed with her, fucking her, never speaking to her, until he came in her. Then he would ruffle her hair and walk out. Those moments horrid, fully remembered, as warm cum leaked out her aching pussy.

Once upon a time, Sarah would love to sit on her father’s lap and watch TV. He’d hold her close, stroking her head as she cradled it against his chest. His slow rhythmic breathing often resulted in both of them passing out, until mom would wake them when she got home. She felt so safe in his arms, loved, protected. Those were precious moments, fully remembered, from only last year, before the accident.

These days, she was told to sit on his lap, as they watched TV. If mom was gone, special videos were played, but things didn’t change much otherwise. He would be in thin boxers, and he would position her and hold her close, sliding his cock against her sex or ass, hand gripping her hair. His slow rhythmic grinding often resulted in him cumming against her before passing out, leaving her to clean up later. She felt so used in his arms, so vulnerable. Those moments horrid, fully remembered, as cum dripped off her ass and pussy, down her legs, staining her new, but short, nightgowns.

Once upon a time, Sarah would delight at the foods and candies her father brought her. She’d run around the kitchen, happily helping as her father cooked her favorite meals, or brought home candy which he’d pretend to sneak her without mom seeing. M&M’s, candy bars, but her favorites were pixie stixs. Hot meals, fresh meals, that tasted so good and almost never the same thing two days in a row. Those were precious moments, fully remembers, from only last year, before the accident.

These days, Sarah cared nothing for the food that came her way. She’d walk into the kitchen, grabbing cold stale pizza from the fridge. Snacks were rare. He would often give her “special” snacks though. Beer, pills, tabs, but her growing favorite reminded her very much of pixie stixs, except now the straw went to her nose instead of her mouth. Cold meals, fast food, that tasted so bland and almost always the same shit every night. Those moments horrid, hazily remembered.