Welcome to My Hell

The sound of the dogs shouting made my eyes snap open. The rhythm of my heart roughly pounded against my caged chest. As I searched through the dark in my closed off light chamber, I rose up from the soft imprinted mattress. Beams precipitously dripped into my room from the cracks of my bedroom door. I tentatively tossed the covers from my tiny frame and placed my feet on the cool wooden exterior. The lite slaps on the floor forced bursts of chills down my spine as I heard the echoes follow behind me. There was a sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairway, right outside my room and Dean's. I could feel my heart pump faster than before, making it harder for me to breath unobtrusively. Fidgeting my fingers, I placed them on the smooth flustered door knob. As I revolved the door knob, the footsteps stopped. In my free hand, I clutch a metal softball bat that was slanting against my cool to touch white wall. Imposing the door open, I chucked the bat up holding it above my head ready to attack.

Gratefully, it was no stranger. Dean instantaneously hurdled down to the floor on his knees, waving his hands frantically. “Don't swing, don't swing.”

A massive sigh of relief escaped from the edges of my lips as I lowered the bat down, dropping it by my ankles. “What are you doing just getting home anyways?”

I positioned my indicators on my hips, gawking him down like if he was my own child. Swiftly he got up and stared back with his almond shape brown eyes. He gave me a blank look with no countenance at all. The feeling of him hiding something bothered me dearly. Just because he turned 18 two months ago doesn't mean that he has the right to be mister bad ass. Ignoring my question that I asked, he rose to his feet and turned into the other direction towards his room next to mine. I grew frantic from the reaction he gave me. I could feel the jerking of my fists propagate stronger and stronger. Ever since his birthday, he has been acting undependable of choosing his actions. He was the type of kid that was getting straight A's, play sports (football), and play video games in his room. The change scared me a lot; now he is dressing like as if he was born on the streets, cursing at my parents, and getting into fights. There was one time when I found him lying unconscious on his bed, beaten half to death with a can of keyboard cleaner in his hand.

Still jam-packed with steam from the occurrence that just happened, I continued back to my room. As I shut the door behind me, I heard whispering through my thin walls. It was Dean; he was talking to someone which had to be on the phone. The words that came out of his mouth got me nowhere. So promptly I took an empty paper cup and retained it between my ear and the wall. “Yea bro I handled it...What? Well he got what he deserved...we can finish the rest tomorrow...ight, talk to you tomorrow...no I’m not going to school, I'll meet you there...bye.

My body restricted up into jolt. What did he mean that he got what he deserved? Lately, there has been a huge wave of gang wars lately, and it always scared my parents and I about the boys. Ricky is only 7 years old so we don't have a problem so far. Though Dean, he has always been so easily influenced. I'll be damn that he is in anything close gang related. Being scared, frustrated at the same time, I plopped heavily on my cushioned bed. Hours flew by and I still couldn't sleep. In my mind, I thought of multiple scenes of what I thought Dean was doing secretly. Then when I finally fell asleep, I would have nightmares of seeing my brother lying in his own pool of blood. Didn't realize how fast time went by, the ringing of Dean's alarm went off. I had to work in the morning, and I had lack of sleep.

“Shit.”

My head glanced to the left towards the clock on my wall, and then glanced to the right at my door. Multiple footsteps filled the hallways. My father always wakes up my little brother Ricky because he liked to go back to sleep. Rattling on my door knob made my ears perk up. As the door opened, a tall muscular structure appears from the shadows. “Hey sis.” Dean tried to give me a cheeky smile, even though I could tell that he was fatigued from lack of sleep himself. The shifting of my hands danced side to side as I let out a huge yawn of sleepiness. Rubbing the tears made from my dry eyes, I saw movement heading my way. Dean had his hands behind his back as if he was hiding something.

I crooked my head the right of my shoulder, “what do you have behind your back.”

It could be anything back there, it’s like I don't even have a fair try of guessing because how bad he changed. The grin he had turned into a huge smile. As he released his left arm, the one that was left slowly moved towards me. It was a gun, I had to look twice just in case if my mind was playing games with me. Sweat started to form through the pours of my skin as I saw him holding the gun in front of me. I didn't know how or what to say to him, instead I picked my head up from the direction of the gun and looked at him with a cold stare.

Immediately, his smile turned into a frown. “What...you don't like it...it's for you.”

What in his right mind does he think that I needed a gun? The thickness of my spit clogged my throat, preventing me to speak. I looked at him with the most clueless expression I have ever given anyone. Assigning it on my bed, in the crease of the comforter, he looked back into my glossy brown eyes. There were so many things I wanted to do to him; one was choking him to death. As I stared back at the gun, I looked back at him, “Where the hell did you get this at Dean.”

“Does it matter where I got it, I got it to protect you...you think that I don't know what really happened when you came home with a black eye...you lucky I don't kill the bastard myself.” he said in a spiking tone.

Shocked by his tone, and how the way he knew the truth about Kyle beating me. I could see the tears in his eyes starting to form in his eye sockets, “I'll be damned if he touches you again...and if I find out he does...I'll kill him myself.”

Leaving the gun in my lap, Dean stormed out of my room. The heavy trots of feet faded away down the staircase. I could hear my father yelling out to Dean about having a nice day at school, though I secretly knew that he wasn't attending there today. Still shocked from the episode that Dean just made, I continuously stared at the black polished weapon. Realizing that it was almost time for me to head to work, I lifted the deadly weapon and placed it under my pillow. In my mind I was still thinking about Dean, did he mean what he said about killing Kyle? What has come over him? Leading my finger under my long T-shirt, I pulled it over my head, dropping it to my naked feet. The chilly air frosted my caramel skin, setting off rows of goose bumps trailing down my arms and legs. Quickly, I grabbed my work clothes and dressed myself. At this point, the house was a ghost town. Only the sound of our two dogs Coco and Bandit barked at walking strangers.

Heading downstairs, I tend to almost trip on the last step. Lowering my head down to investigate, I saw a small silver object hidden in the creases of the wooden stairs. In many attempts I tried to pull it out with the tips of my fingers; no success. In the break of silence, I heard a car horn beep multiple times. It was Kyle, he came to pick me up and take me to work. Scared that he was already angry, I darted out the door grabbing my purse within the combo. While I sped walked to the white sedan vehicle, Kyle gave me a sharp look into my direction.

“Are you fucking deaf, I've been out her honking forever you stupid bitch.” My heart sank into my pocket from the way he spoke to me.

I've turned my head around towards my window and let out a small enough sigh. Kyle sped off, almost causing me to hit my head on the dashboard. A tiny grin was placed on his satisfied face. Throughout the whole car ride, I shut my mouth. Even the tiniest move I made in his car, he would either hit me, or curse me out. In the state I am in now I couldn't afford any of that. The car slowed down, and then my job appeared at my right side. My job is a dance studio called The Beats; I teach hip hop and jazz to mostly adults in the morning, but today children were attending. As I pulled the handle to let myself out, a hard pressure pressed against my arm.

“Look Katerina, I need you to quit your job, I'm your man and I can take care of you,” out of nowhere his voice transformed calm and sweet. His brown eyes looked much more sincere as he stared down into mine.

“Quit my job, bu....,” a flash of darkness covered the left side of my face.

“Don't you ever but me you hear, when I come pick you up, you better have quit,” Kyle shouted while giving me a punch to my face.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, as I held my left hand to my irritated face. Pushing me out the car, I leaped out to the curve. Kyle slammed the door and drove off into the shadows of dawn. My legs collapsed underneath my body and I just busted into more tears. A voice called out my name behind me; it was my boss Kelley. Rushing over to my side she kneels down to my aid and placed my head on her chest.

Through the tears that were continuously leaking out, my voice started to break, “it's my entire fault.”