'I'm A Perfect Devil' (LDL)

1. No Time To Talk

     That bad temper of his does nothing to motivate the plantation workers. The risk of him getting mad at a simple thing and lashing out in sudden violence is far too much to bare. No matter if a crop report is good he will always find a way to be angry.

     Many had escaped over the past few months. I've aided a few in getting over the wired fence. But somehow he figured it out. I had my very own lashed bestowed upon me a month ago. 

     My back has no scars from the leather whip. I'm grateful, but only slightly. 

     "Don't you think I know that already!" Papa raised his hands to grip whatever dark hair remained on his sickly ivory head. There hasn't been enough of it to bring back in a low tail with a common leather tie.

     Just looking at the few oily brown strands makes me rather grateful I take after my mother. I always loved the way her fierce orange hair bounced as she walked down the steps in our place in town. Of course, me and Papa had left a week after we got the news of her death.

     Never stepped foot inside again. Sold it in about three weeks after that.

     Out of a silly frightened habit, my hands folded on my small lap. My head has been down since I heard his agitated sigh when Fredrick came in the middle of dinner to give him the week's crop report.

     Signs of a headache have started to pop up. I feel a faint throb at the front of my skull. 

     "Sir...we mustn't do this in front of Miss Daphne." Fredrick's voice is calm and rational, the very opposite of my papa.

     Whenever my father isn't around Frederick is always there to bring me comfort. He knew that my father could never properly care for me. Good thing I learned on my own quickly enough.

     The mention of my name triggers a grand flinch in my seat. Father's usual bad moods turn sour when I'm brought into the conversation. Gives that bastard enough cause to gripe about my failures.

     My whole body burns from his harsh gaze. I imagine his cruel grin as he looks at me. My blood runs cold as I mentally prepare myself for the attack. I've been waiting for it all day.

     "You, Daphne, should have been married off years ago!" Papa snarled deeply.

     And there it is!

     His scream is terribly loud but the words he expresses cause my chest to ache. I for one never agreed with those stupid claims of me creating so much trouble. 

     I don't have the heart or energy to yell at him back or to throw a pale China plate at his ugly face.  

     "Get out of my sight!" Papa directs his attention away from me and back onto Fred. I hold in a breath of relief. Don't want to jinx myself.

     I take this chance to leave while he is distracted. The sooner I get away from him the better. My freedom will be granted once I make it to my room on the opposite side of the summer house.

     I'm to the other door that leads to the maid's quarters when a throat clears. My shoulders almost slump down but I straighten my back into a stiff plank. There is no room to show emotion. Not in front of this bastard. 

     "Where are you going in such a hurry you, little bitch?" Papa growls at me, stopping me in my tracks. My fingers start to tremble slightly while turning.

     The name-calling has gotten tiresome over the years. I'm not scared or upset, I'm irritated, to say the least.

     My eyes go wide as I saw that his face holds no emotion at all. No one is to know what is happening inside his tampered mind.