10 | Fucked

75.1K 2.2K 757
                                    

"No one can be trusted."

- l i l a -

Tick...tock...tick...tock

How much more? I groaned internally looking at the time on my phone.

I was currently sitting at the back in Maths class. It had been 45 minutes already but the bell won't ring. Who in hell studies Maths, that too for 45 minutes?

After the last night's drama, I had successfully avoided talking to my brothers this morning which was not difficult.

Because Its not like they care.

The next period was break and I had to go to the office to ask for a subject change. I couldn't attend the arts class for obvious reasons.

As the bell finally rang after another miserable ten minutes, I exited the class after everyone else filed out heading straight to the office. There I was greeted by a middle aged lady.

"How can I help you dear?" She asked politely.

"Um, I want to change my co-circular subject. It's Fine Arts right now," She nodded her head in understanding.

"I've jotted down your request. Now you need to get a written permission from your guardian for the same so that your schedule can be updated accordingly,"

What the hell?

"I don't see why is that necessary. Its just a subject change,"

"Rules are rules sweetheart," She shrugged.

"Fine," I said before walking away.

The rest of the day went out in a blur. It was majorly me freaking over how to ask Victor for a written note.

He would definitely ask the reason as to why I want to the get out of the class which I used to love so dearly and I wasn't prepared to tell him anything. Not now. Not ever.

The house was eerily quiet all day and I spent the evening locked in my room thinking of some excuse.

Telling Victor everything that had happened in the past was not an option but staying in the Arts class wasn't either because it would only remind me of those god awful days and all the damage that John had done.

I had spent the last four years of my life in the orphanage trying to get rid of every kind emotions and moving on from everything that I had experienced in the two years after meeting that pathetic excuse of a man John Mother fucking Williams.

I still didn't know what I had done wrong to deserve all of that. I didn't know why he used to hit and physically abuse me. He never told me the reason. The only thing he would say was 'it's all your fault'.

What was my fault? I didn't know.

For the two years he abused me, he had successfully put into my head that I deserved whatever pain was being inflicted upon me. I deserved the way people treat me. And I couldn't help but agree with him after everything.

My dad didn't want me. My brothers didn't want me. And my mom...well in mom's case, I was never sure how I actually felt towards her.

There were times when she was thoughtful enough to make me think how amazing she was. Like when she decided to give away the paintings so that I wasn't hurt. But then there were times I couldn't help but hate her. If she had sent me to as much as a simple rehab care, I would've never been in the mess I'm today.

At the end, all her bad decisions overpowered the good ones and I couldn't help but despise her for not wanting me.

After all if she had paid a little bit of her attention to me, maybe the whole John situation would've never happened. She was supposed to protect me but she was the one who would send me to him.

Even if I had never told her out of fear but she should've understood all the signs I gave her like the times when I pretented I was sick so that I don't have to meet John or the times I deliberately fell from the last few stairs so that I could injure myself and stay in my room.

She was supposed to understand all of that. She was my mother after all.

When I had ran away from my home and started living in the child care, I was filled with all the negativity in the world.

John's words were carved in my mind. 'It's all your fault'.

I wouldn't eat. I wouldn't talk to anyone. Rather I would just sit in my room and weep.

But after four years of introspection and thinking everything out, I finally realized that none of what I had to endure was my fault. Instead it was just John's sickening mindset.

It was his psychotic ass' fault that he had hurt me. It was my parent's fault for not wanting me. It was brother's fault for leaving me alone when I needed them. I wasn't responsible for any of it.

I refused myself to be affected by others. I refused to let others in my life. Because I once you do, they use your vulnerabilities against you. They hurt you in the worst way and then leave you aline to suffer.

I had to be strong. For myself. After all it was just me, alone, in the end. No one else.

My train of thoughts was disturbed by one of my brother's violent banging on my poor door.

"What?" I yelled not in the mood to get up from my cozy bed.

"Damien is calling you down for dinner," It was Xavier. Of course. It was a shame to even think that he would respectfully knock like a decent person.

At least he's decent enough to not just barge in.

I shook my head and quickly walked downstairs. I was starving.

You're always starving.

Shut up!

No, I'm not a werewolf. Its just my stupid conscience that keeps on reminding me of her presence.

As I reached the dining table and my eyes fell on all of my brothers sitting on their usual spot, my eyes widened at the sudden realization. I had to talk to Victor.

What the hell was I supposed to tell him? Tomorrow is the Arts class. And I couldn't possibly attend it. But if I skip then I was damn sure, the school authorities would call him. After thinking everything over, I just reached one conclusion.

I'm fucked.

I started filling my plate with food to distract my mind when suddenly Victor spoke. I decided to ignore him like always when his next words halted me.

"Care to explain why you went to the office for a subject change?"

Yes, I'm definitely fucked.

~


Older Brothers | ✓Where stories live. Discover now