Megan

He stood gazing out at the lake in front of the cabin.  “I’m glad we came for the weekend,” he said.

“Me too,” she agreed.  “Too bad Megan can’t be here.”

He turned around and his face went ashen when he saw the revolver in her hand.  “Joanne, what are you doing with that?”

She saw the fear on his face.  “This is how Megan felt every time you molested her—powerless.

“She told you that?”

“No.  It’s in her diary.  How could you, Steve?  She’s your daughter.”

“Step-daughter.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“No.”

“Admit your guilt.”

“I didn’t mean to do it but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get that?”

Steve looked bewildered.  “What’s going on?”

Just then two police officers showed up.  He was read his rights and taken away.

Joanne handed the revolver which wasn’t loaded to the officer.

“You need to come to the station.”

“After I see my daughter.”

Megan was awake.  Her wrists were bandaged.  “Tic tac toe, Mom?”

“Sure, Honey.  I’ll play for you.”

 

174 Words

This was written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  For more information visit Here.  If you want to read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.