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Broken: The Secrets That Kill (Part 1)

"I lay awake at night..."

By Brittney WashingtonPublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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By Brittney Washington

I lay awake at night. Thinking, always thinking. I messed up bad, but I'm not sure if it is worse for me or them. It could be both, but it's eating me up inside. It consumes me day and night. I can't concentrate on anything but that stupid stupid mistake I made. I wanted things to get better for everyone. I wanted to protect them and myself—myself more. Hell, they weren't going through it I was. I just knew it would be only a matter of time before it started to be them, too. It's been two weeks, and so far no one has found him dead... or alive, which is what everyone's hoping. Except me. I know the truth. I hope he stays where he is forever and rots. He deserves it. Shit, so do I. It's all his fault. He never should have come into my room...

It started three years ago. I was 14 and my mom decided she wanted to start dating again. If only she knew the repercussion of that. If she had known that her world would be turned upside down. He pretended to love her to get closer to me. He wooed us all. We wanted him to be a part of the family. A dad we never had, you know? He was going to treat us how a father was supposed to and give my mom the love and support she always wished she had. It just couldn't go that way. The bastard just had to change. It didn't take long, though; I mean, you can't pretend for too long. The truth, your truth, always comes out in the end. It started with little smacks on the butt like it was no big deal, you know, show the least amount of sexual content and make it look playful between a step daughter and step father. Boy, to me he was obvious. I knew what it was. Hell, boys my age did it all the time in the same way. We both knew what it was. So did he; to everyone else, though, it was harmless. My mom especially. I started to hate her. I didn't talk to her. How could I? It would boil down to being my fault. I would have to wait until I was legal to be on my own. Of course, I needed to come up with something more concrete than just leaving when I turn 18. I had a little sister here who would be defenseless against him if I left her here.

He came into my room and started with the usual from his kind. Touching me and making it seem like it was OK; all the while I knew that it wasn't. I would cry, but silently. Tears would stream down my face while he whispered that I made him do this because of my body. "You have been asking for this, begging me to touch you," he said. "This was what happens when you start to become a woman." I wasn't a woman though, I wasn't close to being a woman. I would take it, though, so he wouldn't feel the need to go to my sister. I couldn't bear to see her hurt at all. It didn't take him long to start doing the real thing. I was no longer a virgin three months after the touching started. I was sick to my stomach with the realization of what this meant for me. I would never get that back. I would be looked at as a whore if this got out. So I let this go on for three years. For three years no one noticed. I was stuck, I hurt, but only inside where no one could see. I cried when no one was around. I smiled for my mom and sister always so they wouldn't know what had been happening to me. Today, though, I took a test and it came out positive. I hadn't had my period in two months; I knew something was wrong. He had to be stopped. Killing him was my only option. I couldn't tell anyone. After all of these years it everyone would think it's what I wanted.

Just as expected, he walks in my room. My mom is gone out of town for work. Evelyn is sleeping. He walks up to me his eyes full of lust and anger. I placed the knife under my pillow so I would be within reach at the right time. I look him in his eyes like I always do so he won't ever get the power of feeling I fear him.

"I've been waiting for you all day today, you know that?" he says. I continue to look at him without giving anything away; inside I want to scream.

"You wore that shirt just for me, didn't you?" he says. I have on a regular blue tank top on, but of course even if it was a dirty t-shirt he would ask me the same question. He's closer now. Watching me like I'm his prey. He steps up to me and touches me lightly on my cheek down my neck to my strap.

He leans down and whispers in my ear, "Turn around." I do as he says with pleasure, knowing this will be the last time. He grabs my waist tightly and presses his body to mine. I shiver with disgust and have to try with all my might not to pull away. I can feel that he is ready, his dick bulging though his pants waiting for release. I close my eyes and swallow the bile that's threatening to come up. He unzips his pants.

"Go lay down." I go quickly, wanting to get this over with. He pulls down his pants and boxers, his erection springing to life. My heart is pounding in my chest. I am momentarily paralyzed with fear of everything that's going to happen and with everything that could go wrong. I lie there perfectly still waiting for him to get to me. He climbs on top of me already panting. As soon as he slides inside of me I reach my hand up under my pillow, slowly pulling the knife out. He's started panting loudly in my ear,

"Oh, Laura you feel so good," he moans. I have the knife out. I lunge the knife straight in his back mid cum. I hear the sharp intake of breath. He looks down at me with a startled expression, then angry.

"You bitch! I should have killed you and your sister," as blood starts dripping out of his mouth. I pull the knife out and push him off, but he's quick and starts to choke me. I gasp for air and try to keep the knife in my hand.

I yell, "You got me pregnant, you bastard!" I stab him again; this time it's on the side of his neck. He looks stunned, eyes wide, as he is now the one gasping for air. I push him off the bed and get up to look him in his eyes for the last time.

"You thought you could do this forever and what, get to my sister next?" I yell. "You MADE me do this!" I repeat his words back to him. "You begged for it. Coming into my room at night touching me, making me beg for death; only this time, I felt it should be you that died, not me," I snarl. He breathes one last time and then is dead.

To Be Continued...

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