The Difference Between Fear and Terror

Untitled Part 34

We pull up to Mr. Blackbourne's home. I didn't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. His house is small. A red brick structure that can't have more than one bedroom. The garden out front is filled with roses. The lawn is impeccably mowed. Even his house has that aura of perfection I lack.

The inside is just as perfect as the outside. It looks like it belongs in a Good Housekeeping magazine. Everything looks brand new, from the dark bookshelves to the leather couches. "I will be right back." He goes off to what I assume is his bedroom.

I pull at book at random from the shelf. Maybe it will deter him from talking to me. I doubt it. It's the War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. I'm not a huge science fiction fan, but I've heard about this book and I may as well give it a try. After all, someone reading it over the radio made people think there was an alien invasion.

I am a few pages in when he comes back. He looks at me in surprise. "What are you reading?" I tilt the cover at him, the universal bookworm's sign to go away. Luckily he picks up on it. "I guess I'll leave you to reading then. Would you like anything to drink." "No thanks."

Several chapters later, I am yawning. He disappears and comes back with a set of pajamas. "Bathroom is down the hall to your left, bedroom to your right." I take the clothing from him and follow the directions.

I pull on the mint green camisole and butterfly printed pants. It shows way too much skin for my liking, but I don't exactly have a choice. I fold my clothes and bring them with me into the bedroom.I lay down on the side furthest from the door and cover myself with a blanket.

I feel Mr. Blackbourne settle into bed on the other side of the bed. He had turned off the lights. I could tell he wasn't sleeping, so I assume that he could tell I'm not asleep. I squint my eyes tight and force myself to drift.

My father approaches me with a belt in his hands. He slaps me across the face. "Kneel you worthless piece of shit." I comply. Th buckle comes flying at me, striking on my cheek. Then my neck. My collarbone explodes in pain.

I wake up quickly and judging by the light outside, around the same time I fell asleep. Mr. Blackbourne's breathing is even, indication he is within sleep's grasp.

I get up trying not to wake him. I curl into a ball on the floor, trying to get the dream out of my mind. The hits didn't bother me that much anymore. I'm used to it. What really hurt is that my father spoke the truth. I am a worthless piece of shit. No use denying it.

My shoulders shake with silent sobs. It's weird, I go through periods where I can't cry to where it takes all that I can not too. I feel the warmth of another person next to me. I'm pulled into his arms. "Shh... It's alright. You're safe. You're fine," he coos.

As much as I want to yank myself out of his grasp, I can't. I desire the warmth, the love. The love I will never fully deserve.

I feel him pull away and I sob even harder. He turns on the lights. and comes back to me. My hair is pulled away from my face and I'm sure he sees the tears tracking down it.

There goes being okay.

He sits cross-legged on the floor and pulls me into his lap, my back against his chest. I can't stop crying. He was right. I am worthless. There is no point anymore.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I shake my head against his chest. "Do you want me to call North?" I shake my head even faster. He sounds close to tears himself. "Can we please talk about it? For me?" For Mr. Blackbourne? How on earth would telling him my petty problem help him in any way?

"Um. My-my fa-father," My stuttering is back in full force, along with sobs. "It's okay. You're here. You're safe," he whispers against my hair, rocking me back and forth with him. "H-he was h-hitting m-me."

"What else?" I swallow hard, trying to clear my voice. It doesn't work. "I-it was w-with a b-belt bu-buckle. He w-was s-screaming at m-me." He runs his thumb under my eyes, clearing my tears.

"Shh, Sang my love, you are back here. I won't let anyone else hurt you."

That's where you are wrong. The person that is hurting me the worst is myself. There isn't a way for you to protect me from that.