*** This story is intended for the "Edge" category of the 2004 SSC.
Usual disclaimers apply. ***



                              "STACEY"
              (SSC 2004 -- drama, M/f implied)

                         by Haley Brimley



Nine-year-old Stacey was careful like never before. She sat at the table
nice and slow, trying not to wrinkle her chequered white-and-blue school
uniform. She answered politely at the questions she was asked, and
helped her mother and father with their bread and butter before starting
her own breakfast. She prepared her own bread in silence and was very
careful not to leave any marmalade stains. Eventually a couple of
orange-coloured drops ended up on her plate, and Stacey's father fixed
her a glare. The child sustained his gaze and did not move, did not
breathe, her heart pounding wildly. She was scared as one could be. But
the man finally lowered his icy eyes, resuming his breakfast.

The little girl sighed in silence, and let herself breathe again. But
the damage was done. She was nervous now, and she knew she could be
sloppy and make mistakes more easily when nervous. Her hand was starting
to shake, and he was afraid she could not keep the knife steady enough
to put more marmalade on the bread, so she closed the jar and put the
knife back in place aside her plate. She ate in silence and with her
eyes low, taking small bites as she was taught, being fast but not
hurried, as it is proper for a young lady. 'I am a nice, sweet, polite
young lady. I am a nice, sweet.'

Stacey finished the bread and licked her lips, then carefully cleaned
her mouth with a napkin. A quick glance at her father told her he was
still looking, and very closely. Inspecting. Again with a trembling hand
she picked up the glass of milk. 'I can't do this, I'll fail, I feel
it.' The glass felt like it weighed a ton. How could she ever hold it?
She brought it to her lips and took the first sip. His eyes were on her,
staring, staring, staring... 'If only I spill a drop on my dress.'

She gulped.

Not only one drop, but a good amount of the pearly liquid spilled all
over the upper part of her brand new, just-ironed uniform. She felt the
dampness on her chest, and her eyes flew to those of her father. His
pupils were dilated. He had the sternest expression painted on his face.
'Daddy please don't.' He opened his mouth. 'Daddy.' She felt like dying.

"Boo!!" he bellowed.

Stacey let out a small shriek, while the man looked in his wife's eyes
and they both laughed. She couldn't hold it any longer, and peed herself
before fainting face-down on the table, her eyes blank.

The man shook his head and, still laughing, rose to go and get the cane
from the cupboard. His little girl needed more teaching.


                   -- THE END --



Summer Short-Story Contest 2004 category: Edge
Word count: 459

Also at: http://www.geocities.com/haleys_stories/

Footnotes: "Kids in the backseat cause accidents. Accidents in the 
backseat cause kids."