Page 2 of Fear the Reapers
“I don’t understand…” I said, searching his tear-filled chestnut eyes.
My head hurt. I didn’t understand his words, and I didn’t want to say goodbye. I wasn’t ready. I still needed him.
I escaped the wicked witch, and I had my happily ever after. It wasn’t fair that the universe was taking it away from me. Taking him away from me...
“I know, sweetheart.” He said, pulling me in for a tight hug. “And I’m sorry I won’t be here to explain it when it does make sense. But I need you to promise me. Can you do that, Bun?”
I gave him a soft nod. His words were confusing, but I could see the resolve in his eyes. I knew he needed to hear me promise, even if I hated doing it.
“I promise.” I said as I blinked back the tears stinging my eyes.
“I love you, Bunny.” He mumbled as he eased back into his hospital bed and closed his eyes.
“I love you too, dad.” I whispered, uttering the words he longed to hear for the last four years.
There were so many other thoughts going through my mind that I couldn’t bring myself to say. Things like…
I’ve always loved you, dad...
I’m sorry I’m so messed up...
Thank you for loving me, anyway...
He smiled as he pulled my hand to his heart and the crinkles were back, his pale, thin skin making them even more pronounced. I hated cancer. It was stealing the one person in the world who cared about me.
I held his heart in my hand until my legs went numb. Past his last heartbeat and past the moment my tears finally shed.
After my dad’s untimely passing, I had no choice but to go back to the monster I thought I’d escaped. Carla was the only family I had left and with no record of her abuse, the courts granted her custody.
It didn’t take long for Carla to move on. In the three years without us, she found herself a brand new life, complete with a new husband and a new daughter.
The rules in her house were the same, only this time, my father wasn’t there to protect me. I hoped that her new husband would deter her, but he didn’t seem to care what she did as long as her trust fund kept the cash flowing.
I always assumed my mother’s hate resulted from who I was as a person, but when I noticed the same signs of abuse happening to my three-year-old little sister, I knew it was a problem ingrained into Carla. I couldn’t let the cycle repeat itself with another innocent child, so I stepped in.
Our mother’s bitterness towards me was always stronger. It was easy to shift her rage my way. Whenever my sister, Alex, would make a ‘mistake’, I’d make a bigger one. Whenever she’d cry, I’d cry louder. Whenever she did anything that would trigger Carla’s rage, I did everything in my power to bring her attention back to me.
The day Carla overdosed on meth was the day I could breathe again. When I got the text in the middle of my ninth grade history class, I couldn’t even bring myself to cry. The reality of it was, even if I could, they would’ve been tears of joy. I didn’t mourn my mother’s death, I only wished it would’ve happened sooner.
With the loss of his wife and her family’s wealth, my stepfather jumped headfirst into the drugs that killed her. He and Carla had been hiding their addiction from my sister and I for years, and with Carla and her money gone, my stepfather had nothing left to lose.
Malcolm was the polar opposite of my father in every way that mattered. He never gave a shit about me or his daughter. He played the part of the dutiful husband when Carla was around, but once she died, so did his incentive to care.
At fifteen, life threw me into adulthood. Shackled with not only the responsibility of taking care of myself, but taking care of my nine-year-old half sister. I was in over my head and without loving parents to guide me into adolescence; I clung to my father’s last words and used them as my guiding principle.
I did what I needed to do to survive. Maybe that’s why when life threw me yet another curveball, I didn’t even bat an eyelash.
The choice I made kept us alive, even if it was the most reckless, idiotic, and senseless thing I’ve ever done...
Chapter 1
Stevie
My bodyjolted at the sound of a hushed whisper filling my ear.
“Stevie.”
Disoriented from sleep, I rubbed my eyes and waited for the hazy figure standing next to me to come into focus. Recognition clicked and relief seeped into me. It was just Alex.
