My New Stepbrother

18

Angel

"Well Peter, she's sustained a good amount of injuries. Her ribs are both fractured, her nose is broken, her eyes are swollen shut, she has a concussion—

"Doctor, what doesn't she have?"

Who was that? He sounded familiar....Oh! It was Peter. But who was he talking about, and why can't I move?

Then—like a train the memories came speeding back to me. Getting home, after walking hours because Candace refused to give me a ride home, since I, "broke her brothers heart," then getting there and seeing Blake. Who was standing in that dark room, like a...demon. For the first time, that night, I feared for my life.

That was the most horrific and terrifying thing I'd ever encountered. Scarier than any haunted house or horror movie. It seemed like his fists never stopped hitting me, and his feet never stopped kicking me, and he never stopped...pushing into me over and over. It was torture.

Oh god my hair!

OH GOD MY FACE!

I remembered the blade, and the violent attacks that he did with it.

He cut my hair, and my face, and my body, bruising  me beyond repair. I probably looked like some sort of disgruntled and bloodied person, laying here with numerous bruises and...apparently injuries. It was obvious to me now that the man, and Peter were talking about me.

"Be glad that she has her life. Peter, I know we're friends and all—but I don't know how I can spin this. I mean look at her. She was obviously beaten to a pulp. What if someone finds out about this?"

"Well, I'm paying you a lot of money to make sure they don't." Peter continued.

That was probably for the best. If people found out that I was almost beaten to death in Peters care, months after my mother's death—they'd probably assume it was Peter that did it. Never would they suspect the innocent looking stepson.

The stepson...the stepbrother...the guy I loved—or used to.

Last night was a wake up call. Last night made me realize that I indeed, did not want to die. I remember crawling away from him because I thought I was about to die, and I didn't want to. It was a breakthrough for me, because for the longest time I just thought I'd accept it when my time came. But last night—I didn't want to accept it. I was fighting so hard to get away, and to protect myself. I actually valued my life and wanted to live. Even though life was somewhat random, and sometimes strange—it wasn't pointless like I initially thought.

Everyone is here for a reason.

I realized something else too. Blake was right. He never loved me. Perhaps I was a distraction to fill a void, or some kind of play thing that he enjoyed messing with whenever he could. Maybe I was just a person who helped him fulfill his sexual desires whenever he needed to; but last night made me realize he did not care about me.

It wasn't because of the punches or the cuts or the kicks—not even about him raping me...

But it was because of everything he said. The fact that he had sex with Alexis to purposely spite me? Wishing death upon me, and saying that I deserved to be alone? Those weren't words that could ever come from someone that cared about someone else.

He didn't care...he doesn't care...he never has.

The whole time, I was fooling myself into believing that I finally had someone who cared about me; when all along he never truly did. And truthfully, I couldn't even tell if what I had for him was love? Maybe, I cared for him too—but because of what he did for me and how he made me feel.