My parents were very wealthy, so they felt the need to live lavishly &attempt to out-do everyone. My step father was a successful businessman, whom owned several high-industry companies, and my mother was a NP. So, when it came to my "Sweet 16" they wanted to go all out. The night before my birthday, my mother came in my room. I could see frustration, and pain in her face. I wanted to, instantly, slam my door shut and lock it. It was too late, though, she had already made it to the front of my bed, before I could even think of moving. I couldn't react with my instincts. "Why didn't I react?" I kept asking myself, before she spoke.
"So, you're going to be sixteen tomorrow, and we have an extravagant party planned for you, sweetheart." She said, as her voice was shaking. She sounded as if she were fighting back tears, or had a dry throat, and couldn't swallow.
"That's cool." I said, not really interested, because I've dealt with this for 6 years, now. I know what's coming next.
They buy me things, and she let's her boyfriend touch me, and watch me shower. I hate my life. I wish I knew my real father, I just know he wouldn't allow this. I, sometimes, imagine how life would be if it were all three of us, and my step father was never in the picture. It's not like that, though.
I sit, and wait for what my mother has to say next.
"You know your step father & I have been having problems, and the only time he's happy is when he's with you." - I stopped my mother right there, not caring if she had anything else to say, not caring for the consequences of my choice of words.
"Mom, I hate him. How could you let him touch me for years? How? I'm not happy, Mom. I hate living here." I spoke the first words that came to mind. As I waited for her response, I thought of all the things that I could have said, to defeat my case.
She interrupted my thoughts with, "Brooklyn, you have to have sex with him."
I felt my heart drop to my knees. I couldn't speak. I felt tears run down my face, and I couldn't swallow. I stare at her, blankly. She just wipes the tear off her face, stands up, clears her throat, and walks out of my room.
I lie in my bed, crying. I keep thinking of things I could've said to her, to make her take my side. How could I just let her say that, and walk out of the room?
YOU ARE READING
Behind Thin Walls
Mystery / ThrillerBrooklyn is 16, and has been enduring abuse from her step father since she was 10. She can't count the times she has told her Mother, and nothing has happened. She's sick of being used & abused, so she takes her own action, and retaliates. In her de...
