𝙼𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝: 𝙲𝚘𝚍𝚎 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜

𝙲𝙷. 𝟷 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎

(Y/N)'s POV

  Eight fifty-five p.m. I glanced at my watch, thinking it was foolish to accept Peter's offer. Why was he so keen to take me for a cup of stupid milkshake? Was he really that bored and decided to come out and ruin my peaceful life?

No, my life wasn't even that peaceful and quiet.

Once my dad passed away, Mr. Turk—who had a fat crush on my mum ever since we moved into town, courted her in every possible way.

Although my mum wasn't pleased to accept his pursuit, she eventually agreed to marry him, for my father's will about finding someone to take care of both my mum and me. They married three years after my father died.

At first, I thought nothing would change; except that Byron and his father had moved into the house; as the days passed, the dark time came.

Mr. Turk wasn't very fond of me; no in fact, he hated me. He tolerated me because I'm my mum's daughter, her one and only precious biological child. My stepfather never liked me, but only my mum. The reason why he was nice to me for the previous years was all for a brilliant performance to show my mother.

And he wasn't exactly how I thought he was. He didn't get paid very often for his job, and being under pressure, he bought liquor and got drunk every day, every minute, and every second. Loafing in pubs and strip clubs were his two favorite hobbies as well. He never really took his life seriously.

Hence, the drunk man.

Whenever he saw me, insulting was involved, and beating was just usual practice. My mum broke down when she saw me being treated like a punchbag after she came home from work for the first time.

Mr. Turk assured me this wouldn't happen again, yet old habits won't die.

He abused me when my mum wasn't at home. He wouldn't dare to admit he did it again, and neither did I; I wouldn't tell her and let her worried about me. However, somehow a mother had an accurate instinct, a woman's intuition.

She asked me whether my stepfather had hit me. Due to my healing power, my scars and wounds recovered quickly, so I told her lies. Despite that I had assured her I was fine; Byron, who became my stepbrother, was mature when he was a senior in high school. He reported my situation to my mum whenever he saw his father beat up on me up when he was at home. Byron was in college now, so it was tough for him to look after me.

Also, this was the only reason I got to wear long sleeves or a jacket when I wasn't in my bedroom. Turk and Byron would have found out I am a mutant as they saw the bruises and injuries healed. They would report to the government for sure. Mutant experiments were still out there somewhere. Scientists craved for mutant genes to transform their subjects into highly mutant-proof.

Like the guy was locked in the Pentagon. He was thereafter convicting the crime of murdering the president. I was sure he was one of the X-men members for dad's old pic in his attic wardrobe. His name? Magneto, I believed.

Back to the troubles with Mr. Turk, I tried to get as much part-time as possible because I wouldn't have to go home early. That's why I got part-time every day, busy but kept me from getting mental illness and family abuse.

My train of thought ended once I heard the doorbell ring. A head of silver sashayed his way into the store and viewed those mountains of cassettes on the shelves.

Peter arrived.

''Hey, is this new?'' asked Peter, not sparing me a glance but pointing to a stack of cassettes that are displayed by the door.

''Yeah, the latest of Jim Croce,'' I answered, taking my belongings for ready to close the store.

He hummed, hands in his pockets, still briefly viewing all the cassettes on the shelves around the store.