Liquid Feels - Book 3 - DP Series - Complete

14. His Story

Trigger warning! 

This chapter does contain talk of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, as well as murder. If you're uncomfortable reading it, PM me, and I'll be happy to give you a basic summary of what happened (minus any details). 

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He looks so relaxed as he speaks, but there's nothing comforting about what he's saying. It sounds like a horror story: twisted and dark. My stomach burns with hatred as he explains to me the horrifying truth of his childhood.

"I had a sister," he begins, and I'm already cringing at his use of past tense. "She was older by eight years, but we were close. Probably because we were all each other had." His elbows remain resting on his bent knees as he brings one hand up to wrap around the back of his neck. I watch him squeeze the muscles a couple of times before continuing.

"I knew my dad but he was never around. Mainly because he wasn't allowed to be. He was a decent enough guy, but my mom had a habit of jumping from one guy to the next. My dad just happened to be one guy at one moment. He was a drunk—a nice one at least—but ended up leaving my mom for someone newer. Last I heard, he was arrested a couple of years ago for drug possession."

"Anyway," he laughs on a quiet exhale, shaking his head, "those details don't matter and if I don't get down to it then we might be here until tomorrow."

He rubs at his neck again, pausing to figure out his next words. "My mom liked to have these massive raves. She'd invite the entire neighborhood and just about everyone would show up. Keep in mind, the type of neighborhood I grew up in is the type that people usually make an extra effort to avoid. It wasn't really a scary place to live. Yes, there was the occasional gunshot at four in the morning, the house at the end of the street was a brothel, and our neighbors had a marijuana shed that ended up catching fire. But until I was about six, my childhood was pretty normal. I'd play with the neighbor kids. We'd have baseball games in the backyard or kick a soccer ball around in the street." He inhales, his eyes distant as he remembers the unspoken details. "And then my mom met Jerry and any sense of normal that I'd had kinda deteriorated."

Seth twists the cap off of a Mountain Dew and takes several swigs before resuming his story.

"So, my sister and I were never allowed at the parties," he begins, mindlessly untwisting and tightening the lid of his drink over and over. "She insisted they were not for children—which they definitely weren't, but I doubt she really cared how appropriate or not they were for us. It was just her excuse to get us out of her hair so she could be as scandalous and irresponsible as possible. No rooms were off-limits in our home, so she'd throw my sister and me in the upstairs bathroom and tell us to stay in the bathtub until she came to get us. She'd rent out all the bedrooms during these parties as an extra means of income.

"Eventually, we got used to hanging out in the bathtub while the heavy bass rattled the bathroom doorknob, and shameless sounds of passion penetrated the thin walls. The occasional couple would discover the quiet space and come in while my sister and I hid behind the mold-stained shower curtain. We'd fight back laughter at the strange sounds they made even though I had no clue what exactly I was hearing—not yet anyway.

"One night—I was six at the time—" Seth clears his voice, taking another quick drink and then continuing. "One night, my sister and I realized we hadn't eaten since the night before. We were starving, so she decided she'd sneak downstairs and grab us some food. The party had already been in full swing for several hours, so the likelihood of my mom even recognizing us at that point was minimal."

"But she did...?" I hesitate to ask when he pauses the story for a moment.

"I'm not sure, really," he admits. "I just remember the screaming. I've always suspected that Haley walked in on my mom being pummeled by Jerry—who happened to be her man choice for that month—because I remember fresh blood on my mom's eyebrow and a deep bruise on her shoulder. Whatever Haley saw that night, it got Jerry dangerously pissed. I'd braved getting out of the bathtub, hoping to see what was going on through the cracked door. I watched a terrified Haley scramble up the stairs, her arms waving frantically as she silently begged me to open the door wider."