Abused and Unloved~

Chapter Thirteen

Two weeks of psychological torture passed rather quickly. Our mom remained mostly true to her word and we weren't harmed in any physical sense. Basic needs are being met and independence is allowed to some extent within the house but my sanity was starting to slip away.

Everyday there was a new argument or tripe that activated my survival response. I never knew what their breaking point would be or what exactly would snap them out of this act. I never woke up slowly unless it was in dazed startled confusion. And every day ended the same, with Kaylee sneaking into my room and us barricading the door with whatever we could find.

Thinking clearly in this place was impossible. Silence without stimulation for too long implied scheming and it was always met with intense suspicion. I began to master the art of staring intently at someone's face or at a television screen and not actually hearing a thing.

Kaylee was allowed to sit back patiently and constantly ask what the plan was while I was forced to calculate the risks of escape and formulate a strategy based on my observations.

I worried restlessly about what would follow our freedom our isolation. As soon as we were saved it was likely we'd be taken to a different home and separated due to our age gap. Obviously this was a better alternative to living with my formerly abusive parents who could snap and murder us at any time, but the thought alone paralyzed me with fear and started to cloud my judgement a bit.

My parents' relapse was imminent, I wasn't sure anymore that I could actually change who they were. I spent the entirety of my childhood wishing for this exact scenario, my parents suddenly coming to the realization that they could actually love and parent me instead of yearning for the infliction of my pain. But the materiality of what I wanted feels sick and twisted. It's like being forced to live in some distorted nightmare of a reality where everything has changed except my memories and perception of them.

There was no certainty of how long this psychotic episode of theirs would last but I was sure that its ongoingness could lead to me missing major things like final exams, college preps, end of year dances, and even my birthday. If we stayed any longer who knows if I'll even have enough credits to pass this grade.

Summer was approaching and if we didn't figure something out, they would have the perfect conditions to be granted a visa and smuggle us across the country hidden within the chaos of tourism.

I shift anxiously on the couch lost in my incessant thoughts as the TV hums in the background. My senses felt irritatingly heightened as I rubbed my sweaty palms along the stitches of my seat and scanned the room as a precaution.

"Kaylee, we need to get out of here, tonight." I suddenly spat out my eyes never meeting hers.

In my peripheral I see her sit up clearly taken aback before grabbing the remote to raise the volume as a precautionary blanket for our conversation.

"Okay so what's the plan?"
"I haven't— fully mapped it out."
"What? You've been working on it for weeks."

The audacity to sound annoyed with me made my blood boil. She would never understand the pressure I was under being me, and that was something I would just have to live with.

"Well you try creating a fully functional plan without having been allowed to leave and see the outside of where you're being held captive." I shoot back through slightly gritted teeth.

"Listen—" Before whatever sassy spiel she prepared could leave her lips the door was slammed open. Christian filled the door frame looking like a sweaty, fuming mess.

The smell of alcohol dripped off him and floated all the way to the couch as he practically hyperventilated before us with steam streaming out of his ears.