/lit/ - Literature

He walked to the door that his daughter left ajar and pushed it gently closed, making sure to turn the little knob that closed the deadbolt lock. Turning back toward her, he looked down at the pitiful girl. Her face was stained with tears and snot from her crying. He reached for the waistband of his jeans unbuttoning his belt and pulling it out of the loops in one swift motion. Grabbing her by the wrist with one hand, he held the hand with the belt in it high over his head.

He looked at Emma and let out a sigh. Wishing more than anything that the sperm that helped create her carried a 'Y' chromosome instead of an 'X', he swung his arm downwards, the belt making a small whistling as it came down toward Emma, his only child.