Daphne didn’t know what she had hoped the dragon would do for her. Her desire to learn to fly distracted her from asking any other questions. She stopped when she was halfway home. Protection. Protection was the main thing she wanted from the dragon. When she turned to look back, the dragon had left.
Filled with sadness and dread she continued on her way to her tower home. When she reached her street, Daphne caught a glimpse of her reflection a window of a passing car. She was surprised she was still in her nightgown and barefoot.
The next moment she felt a puff of warm air on her neck. The blended odors of cigar and scotch signalled the presence of her father in her room. Any hope of rescue by a dragon was obliterated by a hand searching under her gown. Her father was about to use her again and she was powerless to stop him. Daphne wished she had asked the dragon’s name as though she believed he would hear her cry out.
Her eyes rolled open as she turned away from her father. A red light in the corner of the room excited her at first with the impression it was the dragon until she recalled his emerald eyes. Her father was running the camera again.
So he’s expecting a performance Daphne thought to herself as tears flowed into her pillow.
“Sleeping Beauty, it’s time you woke up. Wake up, my darling,” her father hissed into her ear. “Maybe this will open your eyes.” A finger penetrated her and yes her eyes sprang open in pain.
“Daddy! Please don’t.”
“I’m not Daddy. I’m Prince Valiant come to wake the sleeping princess.”
“No, Prince Valiant. Stick to the story, darling! This will be our best film yet if you’ll play along.”
“I don’t want to! Let me go. I want to get up.”
Her father’s finger stabbed her deeper while his other hand gripped her throat. “You can get up after the princess is awake and Prince Valiant is satisfied! Now get into character like a good girl.”
“I have to go to the bathroom. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Like I said, you don’t leave until the prince has been rewarded for waking Sleeping Beauty.”
The girl throat emitted a sound that said she wasn’t faking. Daphne was about to be sick. He father released his grip. The girl made it to the toilet just in time.
“Be sure to brush your teeth and use some mouthwash before you come back here. I’m resetting the camera. No one’s going to enjoy that little scene. Daphne, are you alright?”
Daphne flushed the toilet and washed her face with cold water. “I’m brushing my teeth.” Actually she was scouring her bathroom for something she could use to end this ordeal, for good.
The make-up tray on top of the flushbox offered a possibility. Mascara.