I Love You But I Hate You

“Well, we'll be off now,” my mother called from the front door. I sprinted over to her and hugged her tight.

“I'll miss you,” I said into her hair.

She laughed, her breath tickling my neck. “Oh, Honey. We won't be long. And anyway, you have Dean here to keep you company.”

“But I don't want you to go!”

She patted my hair gently. “I understand. It has been quite a few years since I've left you alone for this long.”

“But we have to go,” Dad put in as he checked his watch. “We'll miss our plane.”

I reluctantly released my hold on Mum, and she kissed my cheek. “We'll be back before you know it.”

“Yeah, Friday isn't too far away. See ya Toucan,” Dad said, patting my arm as he moved to open the door for Mum. “You take care of her Dean!”

A muffled, “Okay,” came from further back in the house.

I waved enthusiastically as I watched the lights on the car move down the street, and gradually fade out of view. “See ya,” I whispered under my breath, and walked back inside, shutting the door firmly behind me.

Dean was in the lounge room when I returned to it, his long frame slouched against the wall.

“Don't slouch,” I muttered. “It's bad for your back.”

But Dean ignored me. “Tell me again; Why does Dad call you Toucan?”

I shrugged, because I really didn't know. “He just does.” I sat down on the couch, and Dean moved to sit next to me.

“But your name's Dana. That doesn't sound anything like Toucan.” I shrugged again and turned on the T.V. The Simpson's was on, and I watched bemusedly as Homer fell off the roof.

The episode finished, and I gave the remote to Dean; It was his turn to pick. He left it on the same channel, but turned the volume up until it started to hurt my ears.

“Turn it down!” I yelled, grabbing for the remote. He moved it away from my grasping hands, turned it down a few notches, and then tossed it across the room. It smashed into Mum's favourite vase, making it fall to the ground and explode into a million pieces. “What the hell Dean?”

Dean grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze towards his. His dark blue orbs started into mine, almost identical. We were twins, Dean and I. He was born 6 minutes before me, so he got all the benefits of the older child. We'd both inherited Dad's navy orbs, and Mum's red hair. We were mostly the same, in colouring and personality, except Dean was tall and slim with tanned skin, and I was short and plump with skin that burnt easily and was deathly pale.

The way he held my gaze though... It was so strong. I just couldn't look away from his eyes. That is, until I felt his warm hand on the top of my thigh.

I jerked my head back and smacked his hand away, but he only placed it on again. “You are so beautiful, y'know?” He asked quietly; So quietly I almost didn't hear it over the T.V.

I skirted further down the couch. “Um... Thanks?”

Dean smiled widely. “No problem Babe.”

“Babe?” I repeated. I trusted Dean with everything, but he was starting to freak me out. I put my legs out in front of me to keep him away. Just a precaution.

He nodded and leant up against me so I was squashed between him and the arm of the couch, my knees pressed up under my chin. I squirmed uncomfortably, but he grabbed my chin again and forced me to face him. I tried to jerk away like I had previously, but Dean wouldn't let that happen again.

He started to kiss my neck.

“Dean?” I squeaked.

“Mm?” He looked up at me from the crook of my neck. “What's up?”

A million and one thoughts and alarms were screaming through my head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don't you like it?” His eyes were curious and open, but when I shook my head, the hardened into ice. “Why not?”

“Dean, you're my brother. This is just... wrong.”

He glared at me. “I thought you felt the same way.” I shook my head again. Dean growled, quite literally, and started to kiss my neck again, though more forcibly this time.

“Dean,” I whimpered, and tried to push him off me with my hands, but it only aggravated him, resulting in him biting down on me. Hard.

I gasped, and small tears started to fall from my eyes. “Dean. Stop it. I- I love you; You're my twin brother; Of course I love you! But n- not like this.”

Dean stopped licking up the blood leaking slowly from where he had bitten me. “Why not? Are you in love with someone else?” My mind automatically went to a special someone; someone who had always been there for me, but had never seemed to really see me. He was the reason I had dyed my hair brighter; worn more out-there clothes; acted up in class.

I nodded. “Yes! Yes, I'm in love with someone else!”

That was the wrong answer.

Dean grabbed my chin, holding it tightly. Oh, so tight was his hold. It numbed my cheeks and ached where his fingers pressed into the skin. “You're hurting me, Dean!” I yelled around his grip.

“Good,” he hissed. “This will teach you to love anyone other than me!”

The tears came faster now, rolling down my cheeks and onto Dean's hand. He barely noticed. “Dean!”

“Shut up!”

“Plea-” I was quietened when he backhanded me. My head spun and the tears stopped. Everything was going black. But I wouldn't pass out! No!

I concentrated hard; Very hard. Gradually, the black fog crept out of my vision, and I was okay.

I glared up at Dean, seeing myself reflected in his eyes. “That hurt.”

“Good.” And in that moment I knew that Dean would do anything to get what he wanted. I was scared, but the best I could do was delay.

“You promised you would take care of me. You promised our parents.”

“I did not promised anything. Nothing!” I flinched as he yelled at me, some of his spit landing on my cheek. I raised a hand to wipe it off. When it was gone, I used that hand to push Dean back off me, and it worked. He wasn't expecting that. I kicked him then, and he fell off the couch.

As he went, I scrambled off the couch and ran to the front door. I was five paces away when he grabbed my wrist and yanked me back. I fell on top of him, and he fell onto the ground. We landed with a synchronised humph!

His hands linked around my waist and held, squeezing. It was hard to draw in air, but easy to release it. I squirmed and wriggled as much as I could, trying to make it hard for him to keep his hold. I dug my elbows back into his stomach, and his grip loosened. I took this as an opportunity to push down with my legs and arch my back, furthermore stretching my body away from his.

It worked, and I crawled away. Somewhere in the crawl I had stood up and started running. I ran as fast as I could towards the stairs, only simple thoughts running through my head.

Room! To room. Lock room. Window. Window. Window. Jump out window. In pool. Land in pool. Swim. Get help. Help. Help! Help!

I dashed towards the stairs, tripping on the last one. Dean grabbed my ankle and once again yanked me back. I looked down at him, saw the hatred and desire burning in his eyes, and didn't hesitate to kick him hard in the nose.

Just like I expected, he let go with a groan, his hand went up to cradle his bleeding nose. I limped into my room and locked the door behind me.

I sat heavily on my bed, looking down at myself. Dean had clawed at my ankle, and it was bleeding in places from his nails. My neck was dripping slowly, and my ribs ached dully from the hold he had on them.

I walked over to my window, looking down at the pool. Jumping into it consisted of a 10 metre drop, and a 4 metre leap. No, I didn't think I was going to make it.

I jumped when there was a loud knock on my door, and it was in that instant that I decided that my brother was not fully there in his head.

If he was in a murderous, rape kind of mood, why would he knock on the door I was hiding behind? Wouldn't he try to knock it down?

“Dana, can I come in?” Yep, definitely not all there.

I took a deep shaky breath and crossed over to the door. “No!” I called.

It was silent for more than a minute, but I didn't hear Dean's footsteps going anywhere. I inched closer to the door and gently placed my ear against it, scared that if I made even a faint sound...

A yell echoed through the door, and I jerked back just in time. One of the large kitchen knives emerged from the wood, stopping just an inch in front of my eye. Then, before I could blink, it was gone again.

Another yell, and it was stabbed through the door again.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Yelled Dean.

He was coming! Straight through my door! With a knife!

My legs froze with the fear that was coursing through my body, and I fell onto the floor, landing hard on my bum. But I didn't even feel it.

A hole appeared in my door, and his familiar, once comforting blue eye stared down at me. The top of his cheek crinkled as he smiled.

I screamed. I screamed until my lungs ached and I had to gasp for breath. But no one heard me, courtesy of the T.V.

“Shut up,” he yelled, and I scrambled backwards, using my hands to push me faster, until my back pressed against my bed-frame.

My breathing rasped out of my throat, which was dry and scratchy. As Dean's face appeared through my door, those insane blue eyes staring at me in triumph, all I was thinking was, No no no no no no no!

He dug the knife into the wood again and again, carving a hole big enough for him to step through. I was frozen with the fear and confusion and denial running through my veins.

Mixed emotions, they were called. I tried to make myself 100% sure that Dean wouldn't hurt me, that this was all a big joke, but my instincts kept pushing me back to This is real.

Why would he have destroyed Mum's vase? Why would he have carved a hole in my door with a kitchen knife? Why would he be stepping through it slowly with a crazed expression on his face? Why would he be doing any of these things if this was all just a big, fat joke?

I also knew that Dean couldn't act to save his own life; something we both had in common. And he definitely was not acting now.

I was still immobile when he was standing directly in front of me, the large knife hanging loosely in his grip.

He smiled down at me, a smile that had my blood running cold, and said, “Thank you for waiting for me, Lover.”

I shuddered.

Dean reached down and gripped my fiery hair in his hand, pulling me to my feet. I shrieked as he did so.

Still holding my hair, he leant down and placed a sloppy kiss on my shivering lips.

“Baby, are you cold?”

I shook my head the best I could. “N- No.”

He kissed my cheek softly, and I relaxed a little. Maybe this was just a prank?

Mistake.

With his hand still gripping my hair, he swung me around and smashed my head into my large mirror. And it hurt.

I felt my skull bash against the glass, and then the tiny slivers digging themselves into my skin. I felt the blood gushing from my head, and then running down my face and soaking into my top.

I cried out at the impact, and then again at the pain.

Through the fog that had once again returned to my vision, I managed to yell, “Why?”

Dean let go of me and without his hold I crumpled to the ground and lay there shaking. My whole body suddenly felt heavy, and I couldn't lift my legs.

“Why? Oh, like you don't know!” Dean yelled.

I lay there staring up at him, watching various particles drift in the air behind him, illuminated by the light from my lantern. Everything seemed to grow quiet, and I only heard our voices.

“I don't know,” I whispered.

Dean sneered down at me and knelt beside me. “Oh Honey, your head is bleeding.” He pressed his palm over the cut on my forehead.

A shaky laugh escaped through my lips, surprising me. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“That you're crazy.”

Dean laughed too, his smile stretching his broad face. “Oh Baby, I've known all along.” He laid down beside me and kissed my ear. “I love you.”

My hand was grasping around beside me, searching, fingers stretching out. They closed around a sharp object.

Dean kissed my ear again, letting his tongue slide around. I tried not to show any emotion, but I couldn't stop another shudder from running through my body.

I tightened my grip. “I love you, too.”

Dean smiled around my earlobe. It was now or never, but I still had to push myself. He was my brother, for God's sake!

I was panicking, breathing hard, and had to remind myself that he was crazy; that I would be doing him, and myself, a large favour.

After what seemed like an eternity, I could speak again. I gasp, scared, knowing that these would be my last words. “I love you, but I hate you. Okay?” And then I brought the piece of mirror down through his throat.