Bode checked his bedside clock. It was eleven o' clock. There was a full moon out that night. He looked at his sleeping wife and scrunched up his face in disgust. \"Washed up fool!\" He thought to himself. He tiptoed out of the room, going to the room of his eight year old daughter, Tolu. Just thinking about her filled him with lust. Five months ago, he had watched her in the bathroom, taking in her soft, supple, innocent skin. Watching her had awakened in him in feelings long buried. Being a man of weak resolve and passion driven, he didn't bother to caution himself. That same night five months ago, he had walked into her room. She had been reading then. The sound of the door opening had made her switch off her bedside lamp and scramble to her bed pretending to be asleep. He had smiled. Mother Nature had peered into his soul and had seen his intent for at that moment, the moon shone brightly, illuminating her skin which was visible under her thin flannel night gown. In her haste she had forgotten to pull the blankets. He had gone blind with lust, desire and rage, especially rage for bringing out unholy feelings in him. Everything was a blur after that, all he remembered were blood, tears, groans and screams of \"Daddy, no!\" and \"Mummy!\" Funke knew when her husband left the room. He thought she was blind to what was going on in the house. She still remembered the screams from her daughter five months ago piercing the still night. If it took her daughter to turn her husband's attention from her then so be it. Bode demanded some sick and perverse sexual acts and she was grateful she didn't have to satisfy him again. Tolu heard the door creak. She felt under the blanket for the knife she had taken from the kitchen just after dinner when no one was watching. Even with her eyes shut, she knew it was her dad. She had tried to talk to her mum about her dad but everytime, she was told to shut up and to stop making up stories. Her grades had begun to slip. Of late she had started to bedwet because she couldn't hold her bladder anymore. As he approached, she held her breath and waited. Watching her, he lost sight of everything else. As always, lust and rage overcame him. He flung the blanket aside. Lost in a haze of forbidden lust, he struggled with his boxers. His hands trembling as he tried to pull them down. In his haste, he lost his balance and fell on top of her. As he tried to raise himself, she plunged the knife swiftly into his back. He was shocked. His last thought, \"It was ironic that my daughter ended me when I gave life to her.\"
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