They knew, without ever having to say it aloud, that the day would soon come when the last straw broke the camel's back at the Lipschitz household. As much as they tried to tiptoe around the inevitable, they each knew in their hearts that they just weren't the sort to avoid it in the end.

Years and years would pass, and Duke Lipschitz would continually curse himself for uttering those foul words that drove his daughter away - his foolish ignorance! If only he'd listened, if only he'd thought before he'd spoken! But he was an impulsive person, as were his wife and daughter, and restraint had simply not been the Lipschitz way back then. Oh, they had learned, but at the price of a broken family...


It began ten years ago, when Aja Lipschitz was a mere, stubborn eleven. Still the sort to pout and stamp her feet, still out rolling in the mud, chasing squirrels and frogs. It was on a muggy June day that she had returned home from a day out with her best friend, Ann Oakerly, covered in grime, sweat, dirt, and grass.

"Mama, Papa, I'm home!" she called, slamming the door behind her. "Is dinner ready yet?"

"Almost, dear!" Manna called from the kitchen. "Are you decent?"

"Umm..." Aja looked herself over, shrugging. "Yeah? I guess so..."

Manna could be heard tutting, and she bustled out shortly after, drying her hands on a dish towel. She caught sight of her daughter, shaking her head. "Oh, no, sweetheart, this simply won't do at all. Filthy, filthy. You go upstairs and wash up, right now, okay?"

"But Mom!" Aja whined. "It's okay! See, I'm not tracking mud or anything!"

Duke stormed in from the den, his newspaper crumpled in one hand, and a glare on his face. "Young lady," he snapped gruffly, pointing at the staircase, "don't you argue with your mother! You go upstairs right now and wash your FILTHY vagina!"

"No!" Aja yelled, hands on her hips, stamping her foot and jutting her lower lip out.

"Duke, what the hell?!" Manna gawped, smacking her forehead. "Are you retarded or something?! I wasn't talking about... oh, Jesus! Is that where your mind just wanders off to?! What is wrong with you?!"

"Hey, you were being too vague!" Duke whined. "How was I supposed to know?!"

"I hate you, Dad!" Aja wailed, crying as she ran upstairs. Before her bedroom door slammed, they could hear her sobbing "Your vagina is filthy!"


Aja ran away the very next day. Duke never could forgive himself for insinuating that his daughter had unsavory hygienic habits. Each day brought new lows for him as he drank his life away in a depression.

No matter how often he sent the letters, they never got a call, a reply, no contact whatsoever. She'd simply... vanished.

Duke never gave up trying, however. And so, he sat down at his desk, once again, to write a plea for his daughter to come home.

Dear Aja... it's Dad. I know you've been keeping your vagina clean. I've always known. I should have always known. Please come home. We miss you.

Love, Daddy


I have no fucking clue. I just wanted to use the phrase "Wash your filthy vagina" at some point, and this seemed most logical. Feel free to leave a review, if you'd like.