On December 25, in the year of our lord 1982, a child was born unto the world. She was a beautiful child, and was baptized with the name "Beauty." It was a difficult birth, and Beauty’s mother never really recovered. So Beauty’s father was left with the task of taking care of his tiny daughter and invalid wife. For a few years, he did a fine job, but it took its toll on him.

Beauty grew up as a very trusting child. Nothing bad ever happened, and she was very happy. Sometimes she wished that she had a normal family, but she was very good at amusing herself.

When she was five, her father meant to put her in school. He really had good intentions, but even the best plans can fail. Beauty’s mother fell into a coma, and her father got a bit distracted from the every day details of life. Beauty survived mostly by becoming a very self-sufficient child. Her family had no lack of money, and they had a few servants to make sure everything was taken care of, and to ensure that Beauty was sufficiently fed and clothed. Beyond that, though, she was left mostly on her own.

So it happened that Beauty never really left her home. She was quite secluded, and never got much of an education. The servants were quite busy with keeping the household running, and had no time to notice the poor little girl. She began to shut herself off from reality, creating wondrous fantasy worlds in her mind. She only ever emerged when it was absolutely necessary.

Then her mother died. She was eight. It didn’t really bother her. She’d never known the woman, and had no real emotional bond with her. But there was a definite plus to the situation. Her father began spending time at home.

He no longer really knew how to deal with the child. She was incredibly beautiful, and she was always quite distant. He didn’t put her into school, for he saw that she wouldn’t be able to cope with others well. So he hired her a tutor, and distanced himself from her again.

It happened when she was eleven. She was extremely beautiful by then, and outwardly she was little more than a robot. She only ever went through the motions of real life. By this time, her father realized he would have to try to get her to become more human, or she would never be able to join society. And he tried. He really did.

But Beauty was happy in her little worlds. She felt no reason to emerge from them. Her father tried many things, though she was only partially aware of this fact. She was happy where she was. It wasn’t boring, or lonely, or scary. She liked it there. So she didn’t really notice when her father broke.

It started with a slap. He was particularly frustrated with her silence that day, and when she didn’t respond to any of his yells, he slapped her. He realized what he’d done immediately, and apologized, crying and hugging her. She barely acknowledged his existence, and he got angry. He wanted a response, any response. So he hit her again, and again, and again. She hardly seemed to notice. So he hit her harder.

The coroner’s report said she died from multiple blows to the head. Over ninety percent of her body was badly bruised, and one side of her face was burnt past recognition. She had eight broken ribs, and a broken arm. She also had multiple contusions. Finally, there was also evidence of sexual abuse. Strangely, when her father was apprehended, he had no bruises or scrapes that would result from a struggle

Beauty was buried on her twelfth birthday. Five years later, her father was put to death.

And they all lived happily ever after.