I knew he wanted a son, and when I came along, he named me Samantha. He told me it was so he could call me ‘Sammie.’ Mom couldn’t have any more ...ids after me, so Sammie I was. Dad peered over his wet messy periodical, milk dripping on his sports page that lay on the table under his arm. ‘Something wrong, Sammie?’ He started laughing when he saw milk trickling out of my nose. I could only shake my head that I was ok, but I was just as messy as his paper. ‘Going to town today, Dad,’ I said as. .” 
You followed behind him obediently into the large beautiful mansion. He led you into the kitchen, and produced a bottle of your favorite white wine. 
“I like to know what people in my extended circle enjoy...” 
He stared directly into your soul as he poured your wine. 
“I can see the Mr. Cline may love you, but he does not appreciate you. You are the kind of woman that needs to be worshiped, to be treated like the Goddess she is...” 
You had no words to reply to him. You stared blankly into. More

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