I enjoyed reading this novella by Babarba Joe Williams titled Loving My Dadddy to Death. This is my first time reading a story by this author and I am now a fan. This story drew me in and I could not put it down. It's good from start to finish,. This little girl Samantha had me talking back to the book as if I was there with her in 1972. The plot twist that the author set in motion was absolutely phenomenal. I would have never guessed the ending of this story. I highly recommend readers pick up this book.
My name is Samantha Denise Holloway. I’m sixty years old today. I grew up in a small southern town with my parents and younger brother. When I was a little girl, I loved my daddy to death. He was a kind and gentle man who gave me everything I wanted. However, after he went off to the war in the sixties and came back with a head injury, he started changing a little bit every day. He started drinking, gambling, and running the streets on the weekends like a single man. Once my brother was old enough to start walking and talking, Daddy started beating on him. Daddy claimed he was training my little brother how to survive a colored man’s life and a white man’s war. When Mama tried to reason with him, he started beating on her too. But I was never afraid of him, and he never laid a finger on me. I was his precious princess.
The more Daddy seemed to love me, the more I grew to hate him until I couldn’t take it anymore. Now I can’t remember the exact moment I recognized my hatred for my own father. But week after week of seeing him beating on my mother and young brother left me emotionally drained. I found myself feeling more and more disdain for Daddy and his evil ways. The father I had once loved and cherished was gone; lost in the war six years ago. He came back a changed man, and it wasn’t for the better. I had to do something to save my family, or I would soon be the only one living with the monster he had become. I’m not proud of it, but this is the story of how I killed my daddy at the age of twelve in November of 1972. I had to save my mother and brother. I loved my daddy. And I loved him even more after his death. Regardless of what anyone is thinking about me, here’s my story . . .
Loving My Daddy to Death
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