They thinkthey’ll break me.
They think I’m weak.
An eye for an eye they said, but this isn’t my atonement. How can you pay for a sin you never committed? A sin, the depths of which you know nothing about.
When will enough be enough?
For eight long, torturous months, they’ve used every evil, fucked-up trick in their books to make me crack and splinter. But I’m not made of glass, transparent and ready to shatter. They think they’ll crush me, but I’m already dead inside. I died on the day they took me, dragging me into the shadows to play with their demons. I’m not even fit to have the title of toy like the others. They call me the dog, but if they think I’ll ever be loyal, they’re wrong. I have teeth, and when the time is right, I’ll bite back.
They won’t hear my bark.
They won’t hear anything from me.
Ever.
As children, we’re foolishly told that sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will never hurt us.
I have a new one.
Take my body, abuse me hour after hour. But with my voice, I hold all the power.
It’sseven o’clock on a Friday night, and like some sad fucking loser, I’m heading over to my best mate Jackson’s apartment, because I’m starving and I can’t be arsed to do any grocery shopping or go out on my own to eat. That’s what brothers are for though, right? To raid their fridge and watch their big ass T.V. whilst you lounge around on their ridiculously over-priced couch. Well, I say brother. Technically, we aren’t related, but he’s done more for me than any of my blood relations ever have. He’s my brother from another mother.
Whoever said blood is thicker than water never had a friend like Jackson. He has shed blood to protect me more times than I care to remember. I’d do the same for him in a heartbeat. You see, my story isn’t all moonlight and roses. Riveting, yes. But happiness and contentment, born from an idyllic childhood? Yeah, that’s the stuff of fairy tales. The kind my five sisters loved to watch growing up, probably because we lived in a world that was the polar opposite. Our childhood was brutal.
My father never had favourites, and he was never sexist. He beat me and my sisters equally when we were younger. That was until I got too big to be pushed around, and then everything changed. I was free of that world. Was I a coward for leaving my sisters to face his wrath alone? Probably, but then I wasn’t given a choice. One day, I was defending them, beating the shit out of my old man. The next day, they were gone, and I was alone. Thirteen-years-old and left to fend for myself. A street-wise kid who was all mouth and bravado.
If it wasn’t for a chance meeting in an alleyway during those dark times, my life would’ve taken a completely different path. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even be here to tell the tale. But Jackson found me one night, getting the shit kicked out of me by five guys I’d mouthed off to in the local park, and he saved my ass. I was a cocky little shit back then, still am if truth be told. But Jackson never gave up on me. He stood by me when everyone else had turned their back.
I tried to track my family down. I did everything I could to find my sisters, but it was as if they’d vanished into thin air. I could never get a lead on where they were. So I’d resigned myself to the fact thatmyfamily was chosen, not born. That family was Jackson and his new wife, Ryley. He was the older brother I’d always dreamt of growing up. The one who’d fight my dad for me, like a knight defeating the evil overlord. Did I mention I grew up with five sisters? Those fairy tale analogies were ingrained into my psyche, thanks to them.
Nowadays? My life is more True Crime Channel and less Disney. I wasn’t complaining though. I worked with Jackson at his nightclubs, I had money, and I got what I wanted. And what I wanted right now was some homemade delights, courtesy of Sylvie, Jackson’s part-time housekeeper and full-time surrogate mum. She always left something delicious and home-cooked in his kitchen, and I always loved to eat the fucking lot. It was one of the perks of being his best friend. Plus, I bloody deserved this after the hours I’d been putting in lately.
I pushed open the door to their apartment and couldn’t keep the smirk off my face as the dulcet tones of my man and Ryley going at it upstairs resonated around the apartment. I knew they were trying for a baby, but Jesus, it sounded like they were trying really fucking hard.
Nonchalantly, I whistled my way into the kitchen, stepping over the discarded clothes in the living room. Thank fuck they hadn’t decided to go at it on the sofa. That would’ve killed my appetite for sure, seeing his ass on display.
Just as I’d guessed, Sylvie had left a lasagne and a salad in the fridge. I clicked on the oven, ready to heat up the lasagne, and dug straight into the salad with a fork. No need to create more washing-up by using extra dishes, right?
Minutes later, I heard the kitchen door fly open behind me. I turned around painfully slowly to see Jackson, standing in his boxers, and looking like he was about to knock me out. I grinned at him in greeting and crunched extra noisily on my mouthful of salad, just to piss him off even more.
“What the fuck are you doing here? You need to stop this, Cill. You should give that spare key back to me.” He glanced back at the door he’d just bulldozed through.
“What’s your problem, man? You’ve never minded me letting myself in before.” I shrugged, scooping up another fork full. Damn, Sylvie. That woman sure knew her food.
“You could’ve walked in on something. Ryley could’ve come down here instead of me and been… naked.”
“I did walk into something, but then I think the whole apartment block could hear you two. You know its great sex when even the neighbours are having a cigarette afterwards. Seriously though, you need to gag her. She’s very… vocal.” I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face seeing how pissed my comments made him. I loved it. He was way too easy to wind up, and winding people up was my jam.
“What we do in our home is our fucking business. If she wants to scream my name through a megaphone, she can,” Jackson replied as he stalked towards me.
“Cool it, dude.” I held my hands up in surrender, and to try to calm his predatory ass down. “I couldn’t give a fuck what you do in private. That’s your business. Trust me, if I gave a shit, you’d be the first person I’d give it to. Anyway,” I continued, hoping to steer this conversation away from a confrontational car crash towards a more empathetic, easy-going avenue, “I was just hungry and I never see you guys anymore. I was lonely.”
I gave him the puppy dog eyes I knew always worked on Ryley. On Jackson? Yeah, that just annoyed him even more.
“What if Ryley had been doing her yoga? I swear to God, if you ever saw that, I’d have to kill you.”
He was gritting those teeth of his again like a crazy lunatic. I kept telling him he needed to chill out. He was way too highly strung. If he carried on like this, he’d have a coronary before he reached forty, and that milestone was looming very damn close for my old friend.
