"Do you have any fucking idea how mad it makes me when I see that you don't do anything about your situation?" he says angrily, his nose flaring.
"Like what? Should I rebel against them like you; get drunk in parties, get arrested for vandalising...
.Chapter 5 - Is Your House Blind? I Can't See A Thing.
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(Last edited: 31/03/2016)
"Look who's back." Cameron's raspy voice greets me the moment I enter the house, making me jump slightly. The house is engulfed by darkness.
I thought everybody must've been asleep by now.
After talking to Claire, I cried my heart out, partly because of the unfairness of my situation and partly because the wounds that Colton's words had inflicted on me were still fresh.
I close the door of the house and turn around slowly, seeing my brother rubbing his eyes groggily and sitting up straight on the couch.
"What are you doing up so late?"
"I waited for you," he mutters and starts walking towards me, looking exhausted. "Where were you, Ella?"
"At Claire's," I answer quickly, trying to go past him and towards my bedroom but he blocks my way immediately, making me stumble backwards.
"You won't escape this time," he says grimly, looking at me straight in the eyes. I let out a sigh, knowing that he won't let this go.
You're a pushover...
Colton's angry voice echoes in my head in continuous, aggravating repercussions; but I know, deep down, that I find it annoying because it's true.
I am a pushover.
"When have I ever escaped, Cam?" I chuckle humourlessly, and my brother's expression changes.
"So why start now?"
Words fizzle in my throat as I try to ignore the feeling of angst settling in my chest when I realize that even Cam thinks I am a pushover, never doing anything because I want to, but just because the world wants and expects me to do it.
I plead, "Cam, please move. I don't want the others to wake up. It's already late."
"You know," Cam continues, blatantly ignoring my requests, "my friends had invited me over tonight to hang out with them after dinner, but I refused, just because I needed to see if my sister was all right."
"Your sister is not a two-year old," I say lividly, and he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Do you even hear yourself? I know you better than anyone. So don't give me this bullshit."
