Thrust Into His Arms

So far he has not said anything to me and is indeed driving in the right direction. Maybe I am just being paranoid and overthinking?

Maybe. It doesn’t hurt to be safe though. Safety paranoia is the only valid one like Dad says.

That is why I’m clutching the bag to alertly take out my pepper spray as soon as the need arises.

I start feeling guilty for having that creepy impression about him when he dropped me home.

I had judged him based on his appearance and combined it with my trauma to think that he would be one of those assholes. Oh how I have changed so much!

I tried as much as I could but was unable to pretend to be as glad as my parents are at me for being back. Making it clear and obvious in my expression that I do not like it here. They think it would only be for the moment but I don’t.

I just cannot think as homey of this place as I used to without it getting tampered with Krohns Highschool.

Seeing my baby brother’s face smiling brightly at me and raising his hands for me to hold him kinda changed that.

I hugged him so long as if to make up for the time that I have been away. In that moment I wished he would just be like this; my little baby brother for the rest of our lives. I won’t get tired of taking care of him.

Mom and Dad considerably did what they could do to cheer me up. Mom made a feast of all my favorite meals. And they redesigned my room.

Mom led me there, excitedly putting her hands over my eyes. A grand gesture of surprise for me in itself because it is so not like her.

The actual surprise was more than I expected it would be. I stare in awe, covering my mouth to hold in a glad happy scream that might burst all their ears. "Is this my room?"

"Do you have a twin? Of course it’s yours." Dad confirmed, chuckling at my reaction.

I start jumping around like a cricket checking and double-checking all what I’m seeing.

"Your Dad did the walls himself. It was kind of a last minute rush. Do you like it?" Mom asks.

"Like it you say? How could I like this? I fucking love it!" I squeal happily. Mom’s jaw drops. Her mouth opening and then closing in shock that she tries to keep subtle with smiles.

I realized what I had said and immediately knew that she almost wanted to scold me for my use of vulgar language just now. The word just jumped out of my tongue. I have been saying a lot for these past few days. I will try to change that now that I’m here.

Back to my room!!!

They changed the wallpaper. The bedsheets. The lights. They even got me a vanity table and a full body length mirror! I run around to touch them.

"Thank youuu! You guys are the best!!" I squish both of them in a hug and entered into another round of excited jumping like a drunk frog. LoL I don’t know why I got that.

Do frogs get drunk? I don’t know. Maybe I will find it out on the internet later.

I sight a bunch of stuffed animal toys arranged on shelf. I did not notice it before. "What are these?" I ask, holding one—a pink octopus. "Do you guys still see me as a kid?" I jokingly remark knowing that they do because Dad especially says it all the time. It doesn’t matter how big you get. "I will always see you as kiddo."

"Stuffed toys. I heard it works for mental comfort." Dad answers.

"Oh. Thanks." I wanted to say that I’m not that damaged to need it, but that would be a lie. Dad brings up the idea of me seeing a therapist at Dinner. Before that he asked if I wanted charges to be pressed against Lamont, saying he has to be punished and I told him no using the same reason I told him before; that it would all be for nothing.

You can’t win a battle that is doomed from the start to end in failure. About the therapist, mom shut it down quicker than I did. "She is strong. She can get over it."

"That’s right." I supported, believing that I will. It’s not going to be the year 2013 forever. They say that scars are similar to feeling of grief and loss. They fade over time.

Mine will. But as at now, I don’t know what to do with my life. I can no longer imagine a future for myself. One of the things I like the most in life is certainty. And I don’t have that right now.

I snacked and watched dramas until late into midnight and then dragged myself into bed. Wrapping myself burrito style in the comforter. Making sure to draw it over my head too.

There is still no bars in the window. Maybe I should tell them? No.

No need. He is not going to dare to show his face to me.

Would he?

He gets wind of everything like a ghost. He knew things about me that I didn’t tell him back then. What if he somehow knows that I am back?

The thought kept me from sleeping until I went to the kitchen to get a knife that I put under my pillow.

Secretly.

I had hid in a corner when I saw mom there. I waited until she got her glass of water and left before I went to take the knife. I would have done the same if it was Dad because I am in no mood for explaining why I want to get a knife. They will only see the evidence later on.

I am now feeling safe and deadly with that under the pillow. Let him come if he wants to.

I certainly would not hesitate to stab it right into his flesh and watch him bleed out if he dares to.

I don’t know how long I slept for before I woke up from a nightmare. I am seeing it as that even though it is not scary.

At least he and his doppelgangers were not chasing after me in a dark forest. Getting hold of me and pinning me down in the dirt and eerily declaring me as theirs. But I feel that that would be better over the recurring thoughts about the forced pleasure of that night that has now invaded my dreams. It is even worse awake. I run back to the living room’s sofa because being in my room where it happened is not helping matters.

I hope that he got an award for ruining me in more ways than one.

CALIX

"Who is this girl?" K asks for the umpteenth time.

"You don’t need to know that. Just do as I ask. And don’t even think about hitting on her." I warn K, irritated at how he keeps staring at Gweneth’s photo that I sent him.

"Look at that." He says, pointing his finger at me with a suspicious and mischievous look in his eyes. "There is the answer that you have been refusing to tell me.

You want her monitored to see if she would cheat on you while you are away huh?"

There is no need to correct him. It is good that he thinks that to clear whatever ideas he might be having.

"That is the address of where she lives." I dip my hand into my pocket and take out a card with the place written on it. "I want to know what she does. How she does and who she meets. And if she is in trouble." I breathe out the last part in a very low tone because I know that it is unnecessary. I was the trouble she had. And she is free from me now.

"What kind of trouble?" He inquires.

"Like if anyone tries to hurt her."

"Like who for example?" He comes up with an answer when I do not reply because I don’t know what to say.

"No one right? You are just being paranoid and overly protective. No one would be crazy enough to hurt her. I mean—look at her. She is an angel." My face hardens into a glare. If I had anyone else to ask to do this for me I would have. He just happens to be around here. And I want to know how she she is now that she is back to her home.

I could’ve done it myself. But I’ve got a place to be.

It would have been great if he had been a girl. I don’t know any girls for it so I am stuck with this idiot. Hoping he does only just what I ask.

"Chill man. Don’t give me that look. You cannot be jealous over a mere compliment." He bursts out in laughter. I stare at him blankly, wondering what is funny. "I thought you were all about guns, missions and lots of couch pussies at a time. I never knew you could be so into one enough to get a stalker on her." He continues laughing.

"Don’t let her notice you. Don’t speak to her. Don—

"Don’t hit on her—I know." He knowingly cuts me off on my orders. "You’ve said that like a thousand times already."

"Be discreet with the photos you get." I add.

"What would the payment be?"

"How much do you want? Don’t go beyond five hundred grand. That is the most I’m offering."

He whistles. "Half a million? She is that important to you? Wow. Sweet, but I want something else."

"What?"

"Your Porsche cayenne." He says.

"Deal." I readily agreed without having to consider. "But you do exactly as I ask. No more, no less."