Hate Me

When I woke up, I wanted to hide underneath my eyelids. It hurt. It felt like it hurt to be alive. It wasn’t a physical infliction, but some kind of overwhelming sadness. I let my arms curl around myself.

This happened quite a few times, but, I had no idea why. Waking up to the feeling that someone was lying there with you before and while you slept but when you woke up, they were gone is what I’ve been dealing with for a little less than a year now. It was empty, lonely, and cold. All I can remember from the dreams before I wake up is that I’m engulfed by water and I know that someone’s sleeping next to me, but I don’t know who it is. My memory blocks that part out.

Tears formed in my eyes as I cringed, the feeling overwhelming, and my breathing restricted. All I can think is, “it hurts.” I don’t know what the feeling is coming from, but I do know that it’s so lonely that I feel like dying.

Initially, I passed it off as a run-of-the-mill dream… until it kept reoccurring once or twice a week.

After a few minutes, the feeling passes and I get myself to my feet.

I ready myself for school afterwards and then head down to the kitchen where my mom is getting ready for work and my dad’s making pancakes. I know they’re not my real parents but they make me feel like their real son. Sometimes I call them May and Evan, but it doesn’t mean I love them any less, I’m just bad at making anything a habit because I’m afraid my life will change again if I get used to something.

And then my eyes catch something. A smile on Sloan’s face. I’d understand if it were at May or Evan, but it was directed at me. Those cold, blue eyes burned into me, hatred with it.

It terrified me.

It was the like initiation of a new idea in his head and for a minute, I’m frozen with fear, unable to move, or even breathe. All I can do is meet his abhorred gaze with my terrified one.

When I finally do get my lips to move all that comes out is, “I-I’m leaving early. I-I have a project I need t-to finish.”

May kisses me on the head and tells me to have a good day just before I dart out the door. Before I know it, I’m sprinting down the sidewalk at what feels like impossible speed. That’s when the real fear hits me. I sink to my knees as the give out from under me and I shudder violently. Tears make their way to my eyes as I try to hold myself together with my arms.

I can’t imagine what he’s going to do to me.

“Damn, you’re hard to keep up with.” My terror seems to form right in front of my eyes as I somehow manage the strength to look up at Sloan.

Something sick was taking place in his mind, occupying his thoughts. My only defensive mechanism was to surrender myself to him and submit to whatever was going to happen.

That was when he picked me up into his arms as I let my body go limp. This is bad. This is really bad. It was blindingly terrifying. He still had that same, sick smile plastered on his face as he carried me, not further down the road, but into the belt of trees ten yards from the road.

Was he going to kill me?

If only I were just being dramatic about that.

When I couldn’t see the road anymore, Sloan laid me on the ground.

I didn’t let myself think anything

I focused on breathing.

Like a trance.

I could feel my belt buckle being undone as I realized what was happening. My pants were shoved off of me.

My mind was processing at a million miles a second. What do I do? Scream? Cry? Beg? “C’mon Nero, this’ll be fun. Like a game. ‘How many inches can you take?’” Then he laughed.

Since he doesn’t care about my wellbeing at all, he just shoves into me.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me. As I looked away from him, he hit me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and holds my head still. I could feel a tiny trickle of blood flowing out the corner of my mouth. I probably bit my cheek when he hit me. I wouldn’t know though, the pain from him shoving ruthlessly into me, tearing me apart. I have my eyes open as wide as they’ll go but it feels like I can’t see anything. I also hear sniffling and groaning but it’s like it’s miles away from me. But I know the crying is from me.

In one, last, desperate attempt, I glance around and spot a stone just within my reach. Two seconds later, it’s in my hand and my arm is raised over Sloan’s head.

I make a swift movement, then there’s a dull cracking sound and a thud. Sloan was lying on top of me, his eyes closed in unconsciousness.