The Good Samaritan Chapter 1

The Good Samaritan

Chapter 1: Should Always Know Better

What an absolutely wonderful day. It started when I woke up and remembered that I had no groceries
in my little apartment. All that was left from the last run to the store was a few slices of stale
bread and a half cup of milk that was on the verge of going sour. Well, except for the mystery
item in the freezer. That frozen green fuzzy mystery was not going to be touched.

To make things even better, I was broke. I'd even scrounged under the sofa cushions and found only
dust bunnies. The only thing that could help is if my Disability check and Social Security came in
todays mail. And that was no guarantee.

With the current administration, cutbacks and late checks were the norm, Sadly, that's what
happens when you put a businessman in the White House.

Later, when I was getting ready to go check, on the mail, hoping that if a check came, that my
knee wouldn't hurt too much to make it to the bank and back. That's when the neighbors started
getting into it again.

The family next door was your typical late 20th century dysfunctional family. The mom was nice
enough, mostly trying to keep a roof over her daughter's head. The husband was the girl's step
father, and never seemed to do anything, but find fault with the little girl. The mom Stephanie
was working 2 or three jobs so that the dead beat could sit in front of a TV set and drink beer.

The girl, Victoria was 12 years old, though she could pass for 15. Still on the short side, she
had already started to develop a figure that would be quite something in a few short years. If she
could get out of this sad life.

Sometimes, late at night when Stephanie was working so hard. I would hear sounds that made me
think that the bastard step father was abusing Victoria. Both physically abusing and sexually
molesting the girl. My greatest shame is that I did nothing to help out Vicky when I should have.

Today seemed to be one of the worst I'd heard through the walls. I headed for the mail boxes
downstairs, hoping things would quiet down by the time I came back. I got out the door and most of
the way to the elevator when their door flew open with a crash. Vicky made it out, closely
followed by her step dad, only her mom holding him back, kept them apart.

As the elevator door opened, Vicky dashed for its relative safety, tears in her eyes from the
verbal abuse from his screaming at her. Fortunately the doors closed before he could get near.

I asked, "Are you okay Vicky? Things were sounding pretty bad there."

She looked up at me through the bangs of her bright copper colored, middle of the back hair, tears
flowing down her face. "Oh, Walter, what am I going to do? If I stay in that place any longer, I'm
sure that Fred will kill me. If I don't kill myself."

That's me Walter. I've talked to her many times, and never had she said anything about taking her
own life. Things must have gotten really bad for her. "Vicky, you shouldn't talk like that, a
pretty young girl like you has your whole life to look forward to. Don't let anything that Fred
says make you doubt that. Life is precious, all life."

As the door opened in the lobby, Vicky wiped her tears away and then gave me a hug, "Walter, I
wish you could have been my daddy, you're always so nice to me." She reached up on her toes and
pulled me down to be face to face, "Thank You!" When she kissed me, an old man, I was very

As we walked together to the mailboxes, I asked, "What are you going to do Vicky? Is there
anywhere you can go to get away from him for a while?" Thinking that I left myself open, I added,
"A friend from school or a relative?"

She looked sad, "No, mom's the only family I have left. My real dad's parents are still alive,
somewhere back east, I've never met them before. And mom's passed away when I was very little, I
can barely remember them at all."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Vicky." Sorting through my mail, Thank God! My check was there, what a
relief. "Do you know anything about your dad's folks though? Anything that might help you at some

"Dad never said much, though from what mom has said at times, they thought that dad was a
disappointment to them because he married my mom. That mom was somehow beneath their family, like
they were special in some way. But dad refused to talk about it. Then when he died three years
ago, there was no way to find out."

I thought, "I'm truly sorry about that Vicky, you're too nice of a young lady for that." She gave me another
hug for that. "Hey, if you wanted to, you could help me. I need to get groceries and could use the help of
a strong young person such as yourself."

Vicky smiled, "See, that's what I mean about you being nice to me! Normally, people either ignore
me or call me kid. And the ones that don't do either .... ew." She shook as if to shed some ill
feeling. Then added, "Of course I'll help you Walter, I'd love to."


During our four block walk to the closest chain market that had a bank branch, shopping and then
walking back home, I learned a lot about Vicky. I asked her what she meant about those others, she
had shuddered over.

Her eyes turned down, like she was ashamed of what she was about to say, "Walter, you've known me
for most of my life, but if we had never met, and you only now just had seen me for the first
time, how old would you think I was?"

I thought, "Well, to be absolutely honest, because that's what I think you would want to hear." At
this she nodded her head yes. "Ok, I'd say that you were an average 15yo, who was on the very
short side for her age group."

She nodded, "That's the problem with people who don't really know me."

I said, "You mean boys, especially the older boys? Yes?"

"Yes, the older boys. You know I'm only 12, but you also treat me like I'm older, only with
respect. You're a gentleman. I've seen how you talk to and act with people, you treat them the way
they deserve based on how they treat you."

I said, "Thank You, Vicky! That's very kind of you to say."

Vicky said, "Because I began maturing earlier than most girls, the boys all think that I want to
do stuff with them. They say gross things about what they want. Some things even make me sick. I
can't say anything to mom, I'd be too embarrassed. And Fred, I can't talk to him. That's out of
the question."


We got back to the apartment building and everything seemed quiet as we made it into my place and
put the groceries away. Her place next door was all quiet for a change. I had her sit at the table
while I made us some tea.

As we sipped at our tea, I quietly asked, "Vicky, I know you're very young and I have no right to
ask this... but I feel that I need to ask so maybe I can help you. You have nothing to fear from
an old man like me, and if you don't want to answer, just tell me it's none of my business. Okay?"

She looked only into her cup as she held it before her lips, "Okay Walter."

I looked her in the eye, "Vicky, you have nothing to be ashamed of, just know that first off. But
from some of the things I hear through the walls, I have to ask. Is your step father, Fred,
hurting you? Or doing anything that he shouldn't do?"

She started to gently weep. I moved my chair closer, to put an arm around her and pat her on the
back, "It'll be okay Vicky. Everything will get better. I promise."

When she talked, it was so soft that I could hardly hear her, "He's careful not to hurt me after
the first time he left bruises on me. Mom was going to call the cops on him. He promised her that
he'd stop."

I knew there was more to it than that. "And... "

That's when the tears really started to flow. Between sobs and terrified shakes, I learned that he
had been touching her, playing with her. Mostly her breasts, but very recently, he had started to
finger her, saying 'I like it that you don't have any hair down there, your mum is so wooly down
there it's like playing with a sheep'. She felt it was only a matter of time before he tried to
take her flower. As she said it.

As I tried to get her calmed down, it was all I could do to calm myself too. I grabbed my phone
off the table and started to dial 911. When she saw that, she was nearly hysterical, pleading not
to make things worse. She made me promise not to do anything unless it got worse for her.

It was all I could do to agree, and mean it without calling the cops the second she went home.


Some time later, I woke up to the sounds of things breaking, in the apartment next door. Vicky's
apartment. I must have fallen asleep watching the tube. The sounds were the stuff of horror
movies. When I heard Vicky scream for him to stop and get off of her. I lost it. I grabbed my
phone heading for the door.

Fortunately, the 911 operator answered before I could make it to their door. I explained what I
heard through the walls as I beat on the door, "Answer the door, Fred, I called the cops and
they're on their way here now. Leave Vicky alone, you bastard." The whole time the call was open
so the operator could hear everything.

For five minutes I pounded on the door. During that time I could hear Vicky crying and screaming
from what I thought must be her room. I heard the operator say that the officers were almost there
and for me to stay calm, that was the best way to help Vicky.

Finally she screamed, "Walter, help me!" And then quiet. Now I was dying, I couldn't help poor
Vicky, I was useless. I fell to the floor, still banging impotently on the door.

The door yanks open away from my still raised hand. It was Fred, still pulling his pants up.

"You're the neighbor from next door, Walter." He kicked me in the gut and I sprawled on the floor.
A second and third kick quickly followed. When he heard the operator on my phone, he crushed his
heel into it, destroying it.

I weakly croak out, "They'll be here any second, you bastard."

He started kicking again, and I thought he'd never stop. He said, "You should never have butted
in, telling the little slut that her 'flower', was hers to give to whom she chose, but she's mine
and I'll do what I please."

The last thing I remember was seeing her kneeling in the doorway to another room, her pajamas
torn, exposing her breasts and her vagina. It looked like there was blood on her thighs. All I
heard after that was, "Nooo!" A gut wrenching scream and then a blinding flash of light.

End of Chapter 1

Thanks for Reading!

Goddess Blessings!


If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
222 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 1992 words long.