'Dysfunctional: not operating normally or properly'
That was one way to describe Clara Campbells family. Dysfunctional; not operating properly. That was just what happened when your older siblings leave you.
Or that's what Clara had always believed...
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| Carter Campbell |
TW: Sensitive topics are mentioned in this chapter, so please skip it if you feel uncomfortable about the mentions of drugs and rape.
Once the front door had shut, and I had heard Caleb drive away with my little sister and her friends, I felt my entire body tense up. I knew the Lewis had been directed into the kitchen before Clara had come downstairs with Caleb, as I had been the one walking down the stairs, only getting a glimpse of his back.
I felt hugely at fault for what had happened, and I was afraid of walking into that kitchen. He was once my best friend, but I had done a shitty thing. I will admit, what I did, was the worst thing that a best friend could do.
Me, being the person that he had confided in since we were in kindergarten, for some reason, my first instinct was to turn on him. My immediate thought was to turn away and run away from the bigger problem, and I had just let him go. He had been one of those people that had kept me grounded, when I was about to fill my nose with drugs at 15, or when I was drinking my life away at the age of 13, just to escape what I would inevitably be going back to in a few hours.
"Carter" a voice called out, and my body immediately sagged in response to his voice. Growing up, I could never hide anything from him, and I knew that trying to hide this from him any longer, would just ruin everything that could ever happen. "Why are you not in there with Lewis?"
Everyone knew that the two of us were inseparable. We were never romantically tied, just more so like brothers. We both dated girls, for clarification. I know that means nothing, but he has always been a brother to me, so what I did, was not what should have ever happened, but the only that I have as a justification, was I was drugged.
Heavily drugged. I had no chance in stopping what drugs had entered my body, as I was so far gone. My drink had been spiked and I had no chance of coming around for a couple of days. I thought it was good, as I had gotten a chance to escape from the life that I had been living in that year, as it had been the worst that I had ever experienced.
No one knew that my father was trying to advance on me; to rape me. No one knew that my mother was begging me to move out; that every chance she saw me, she would throw something at me or try to kill me. No one knew that I had punched my own best friend; I had gotten so high with Owen Hartley, that I had punched the one person that had tried to help me.
I had punched my only true best friend, Lewis Blakely.
I had just turned 16, when my father decided that the best gift he could give his son was to pin him to the bed, just so he would know how it would feel, to be terrified that they were about to be raped. He laughed as I had squirmed beneath me, showing me just how close he would get to me, before he had laughed and walked away, leaving me tied to his bed that he used to sleep in.
