On Your Level ~mlm~

~ Chapter 16 ~

I was right.

My dad's face is a bright crimson and his fists are clenched, I'm almost expecting puffs of smoke to billow from his ears at any second.

My mum's face is not any better, she looks like a cadaver that has been drained of its blood, her brows are furrowed tightly and I'm worried she's going to get a migraine from the pressure.

"Why? Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?" My mum wails and it's hard to hear. "Do we not love you enough? Why do you hurt yourself like this?" She's passed it, her breaking point. I know I've been pushing it this year but I honestly don't know what to do.

I can't stop fighting, it's the one thing that pushes my heart to pump blood throughout my body. The adrenaline that shoots through me is not something so easily given up. I'm an addict to the feeling, I assume it's the same feeling drug addicts rave about. But this isn't something rehab could fix, I don't even know if there is such a thing for this addiction.

If only I could find something else that would make me feel joy, spark the hope I need to continue going.

Besides, it isn't just the feeling that keeps me fighting, it's the money. My family needs this money to accomplish their dreams, I wonder if my parents know that's another reason why I do this. I wonder if this breakdown is fuelled partially by their guilt. They must blame my behaviour on their own actions, wishing their son didn't feel like he has to damage his body for money.

They must be confused too, they understand I want the money for this family but they don't really know why, can't really understand it. We have a comfortable home, with a roof over our head. We're never stripped for food, our fridge is overflowing with traditional dishes ready for anyone to eat when hunger strikes. We have no debts that need to be paid off, not even schooling fees or hospital bills, Australia is good like that.

They don't understand.

"Look what you've done to your mother! Can't you see how this affects our family!" My dad yells, veins bursting from his neck in desperation.

Mum's sobbing now, convulsing in the arms of her husband.

"It's a sport just like any other! Just like soccer! I come home with bruises from games all the time but you never complain about those!" I scream back at them, but I really don't mean to. Everything around me is coated in a red haze and my body is rising in temperature.

I need to get out of here.

Robyn

I'm shitting my pants.

It is nine o'clock at night and I just heard a heavy thud at the door-not a knock-a thud! I'm going to die, there is a man outside my door trying to punch his way through the glass! That is the only thing I can think of as I try to find some logic in how that noise came about.

I've listened to the podcasts, I've watched the documentaries! That man has probably been stalking me for days and has waited for the perfect moment to strike, right when I'm home alone.

THUD

Shit! There he goes again! One more heavy punch and his hand will go through the glass, he will reach through the shards-careful not to graze his arms on the broken glass and leave traces of DNA-and reach for the door handle. He will let himself in and then stalk up to my room, pin me down by threatening me with a knife, rape me, then strangle me with an electrical cord and leave my body to rot.

THUD

I've just got to accept my fate, think positively! At least I won't have a boring death! I might even snag myself a documentary, or a movie starring some hot male celebrity as my killer because that's not weird at all Netflicks!