Last House On The Left

That one Septembers morning, standing outside my home. Contemplating all my problems, cheating wife, lies and no money. I open the door to the kitchen, slowly stepping to the cupboards. I grab the first knife I see to turn around and see her there. Face to face nose to nose, so close I can feel her breathing, as I lunge the blade into her chest and out 53 times fast. Spilling her blood and crying, this is my last goodbye. Bloody footprints on the carpet trail me as I go upstairs.
Hi daddy wheres mommy? - Dont be afraid, baby. - Why daddy what have I done? I am scared. I love you. - Shut up.
Feet make fireworks of the gravel as we walk to the building. My hand trembling holding hers, it was dark and inside the same. A man hands me a damp wad of money - no more than 200 dollars. Bound to a bed my daughter they began to have their way with her. I ran. I fled; from this feeling, ever hearing the words they spoke. Now this image stuck in my head, her attached to the bed they said:
Take off your clothes now this is going to hurt. Screaming doesnt help but it aids in my fun. Take it from me this is what I enjoy; I want you to play dead like your laying in your fucking grave!
My daughter, I sold her. Echoing in my head forever I hear her cries... his words...
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