To Love Him | ✔

003

Chapter 3

Sammy Walcott

I shut the door behind me applying a little pressure seeing as the wind had increased and drops of rain already falling steadily.

Unfortunate new neighbors.

I pulled my cap off, running my hand through my hair before turning around only for my blood to run cold in my veins. I fisted my palms and stared, gritting my teeth so hard that it hurt.

Sitting there on the long sofa were my mum and stepdad. He had his arm draped around her shoulder, her head relaxing on his as they watched the television. They looked like such a happy couple, just enjoying a movie during bad weather but I knew better. I knew better.

"Sammy, is that you?" Mum asked about to crane her neck to look up at me but the not so subtle push around her shoulder kept her in place.

I instinctly moved closer prepared to punch a hole into someone's head, not exactly thinking about the impending consequences.

"Sammy boy," My step father called with his sickining tone turning to me with an equally sick smirk. "How're you doing?"

That sick smirk made me waver in my steps. I know that smirk, that look and even if I didn't, the scar running down his left eye was enough to make anybody halt in their steps. It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Cat's got your tongue?" He asked raising a warning brow.

"I'm fine," I gritted out. My palm hurting from the way my fingers digged into them. I didn't even have fingernails.

"Good, fine is very good." He said dragging out the very and turning back to this television. "Your mum and I are watching some telenovela, its surprisingly good. Care to join in?"

He smiled at my mum, pressing a kiss to her head. Mum tried to hide the shudder but I saw it, just like I saw through the smile she flashed at me. Our eyes met and she forced the smile. The fake smile saying it all— it's okay honey. Its okay.

Its not okay her eyes countered, but this is better for now. Better than a fight and fresh bruises.

"No, I've got assignments." I begrudgingly answered moving towards the stairs.

"Dinner's in the oven," Mum announced, eyes still glued to the television. It's only under this roof that watching the TV became a chore.

"Already ate," I lied freely when infact I've not taken anything except a bite of a spoilt apple.

"Sammy boy, how's your eye bruise?" My step father asked, making me stop on the second step staircase. I could feel the scorn in voice so real like the hate I harboured towards him, living and breathing at the very core of my heart.

"Dennis—" my mum started, her tone wary and pleading.

"I'm just asking Melissa," He says kissing her some more. "A harmless question."

"Healing," I clip back at him before running back up as fast as my legs could carry me into my room.

I threw my bag and cap to the floor, adding to the mess there and slammed my hand on the wall, biting my lip to stop myself from shouting, drawing blood and hurting myself more. I hate him. I hate him so much. Its because of him I am like this. Broken.

And it's because of him I won't stop fighting. It's because of him I go out there looking for trouble, trying to be terrifying. It's the only way I know to fill the void, to balance myself and not lose my fucking mind. In here I'm so useless and powerless but out there I could be something else but scared Sammy. Maybe if I get better at scaring people and at fighting then someday, sooner than anyone expects, I'm going to fight back harder. I'm going to scare him right back to jail. I'm going to beat him so bloody, it would be a miracle if he survives.