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Melinoë Brewer

Melinoë, the Greek goddess of ghosts, nightmares, and funerary rights. She walks upon the earth at night with a train of ghosts who terrify anyone in their path. I don't know why my father decided to name me after her. The name is pretty, but the background of it is dark. It deceives you, like my father. He was a nice man to my mother when they first met; they were happily in love. Then my mom got pregnant with me. She was elated, but my father, on the other hand, was furious because he didn't want a child.

After I was born, he didn't give my mom the attention you would usually receive in a relationship, and he hated me. He would constantly say I was a mistake and tell my mom they should just put me up for adoption. It's not like they couldn't afford a child. My father just didn't want one.

When I got a little older, arguments turned into fights. Physical fights. My father would hit my mom almost every day. The littlest things irritated him. My mom would find herself apologizing for everything. Then, he started hitting me. I always did something.

"You're too loud!"

Slap

"Watch where you're going!"

Slap

"Get away from me, mistake!"

Slap

If I made a sound when he hit me, I'd be beat till I passed out. My mom always tried to intervene, but he would knock her out then continue to beat me. Then, one night....

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"Melinoë. I love you," My mom cried.

I smiled.

"Y-You see this?" She pointed to her arm, where a name was written.

I nodded.

"That's the name of mommy's soulmate. I-It used to be daddy's name, but now it has changed."

I traced my finger on the name.

"It says, Dimitri....... You're going to grow up, and someone's name is going to pop up on your wrist. Make sure they love you forever and ever."

I nodded.

"Shhh, it's sleepy time now...." My mom whispered. I yawned and cuddled with my teddy bear. My mom stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

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"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! WAKE UP, MISTAKE!" My father screamed, throwing me off my bed, into a wall.

"Ow!" I cried.

"SHUT UP! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! SHE LEFT BECAUSE OF YOU!" He yelled. "SHE LEFT BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T LOVE YOU! SHE WAS PRETENDING TO LOVE YOU!"

"B-But-" I stuttered.

"SHUT UP!" He kicked me in my stomach. He then stormed out of my room, and I curled up in a ball, knowing the only person that loved me, left.

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"You don't even want her!" I heard my mom exclaim.

"You left her. I HAD TO TAKE CARE OF HER!" My father yelled.

"FOR A WEEK! I'VE TAKEN CARE OF HER SINCE THE DAY SHE WAS BORN!" My mom retorted. They went back and forth like this until my father got irritated and slammed the door in my mom's face. I quickly, but silently, ran up to my room and pretended to be reading a book. My father stormed into my room, grabbed me by my hair, dragged me downstairs, and opened the door again.

"THERE. YOU'VE SEEN HER. NOW LEAVE," He growled.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BABY? GIVE HER TO ME!" My mom reached out to me.

"HELL NO!" My father threw me inside. The whole time I said nothing. Tears were streaming down my face, yet no noise escaped my mouth. I knew if I did something, anything, I'd be dead. My mom grumbled, took out her phone, and dialled 9-1-1. My father got angry and tried to grab the phone from her. Luckily, she dodged it and managed to get out what was most vital before he smashed her phone on the sidewalk.

Luckily, the police got there in time, and they arrested my father. And sent an ambulance to come to check up on my mom and me. But I didn't want them to touch me. I thought they were going to hurt me. So I glued myself onto my mom for the rest of the night. Doctors tried to see if I was ok, but I would cry every time they touched me. I didn't try to get away or hit them so they would leave me alone. I just cried with no noise escaping my mouth.

Eventually, they had to just give me a check-up because I wouldn't stop crying. I had two broken ribs, a hairline fracture in my leg, and a bunch of bruises covering my body.

This all happened when I was six. I'm sixteen now.

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"Good morning, honey!" My mom exclaimed.

"Good morning," I signed. Since I was mute, my mom taught me sign language so that I could communicate with people. If they didn't know sign language, I have a notebook on me at all times so I could talk to them through that.

"Morning, kiddo," Dimitri, my stepdad, sipped his coffee.

"Good morning, Mel," My older stepbrother, Isaiah, smiled.

Dimitri had Isaiah from a previous relationship. His wife died in a car crash when Isaiah was only four. My mom met Dimitri about five months after what happened. We were a bit stand-offish at first, and he understood that because of the trauma we went through, and took things slow. Isaiah was very nice to me too and would never try to touch me after he hugged me once, and I started to cry. The only physical touch I can handle is a high five and a pat on the head. If I'm super close with you, then a handhold is as far as we go. My mom is the only one that can hug me.

"Morning, Isaiah," I signed.

"Are you excited to be going to school?" My mom asked.

I shook my head no.

"Why not? You've been doing online school for so long. I don't think you remember how interacting with people besides us is like," My mom laughed.

"What if they're mean to me? Or they don't like me?" I signed.

"Then I'll beat them to a pulp," Isaiah cracked his knuckles.

"You better," Dimitri high-fived Isaiah.

"Don't listen to them. Everyone will like you. Plus, you get to visit the school early," My mom smiled.

"I'm scared," I shakily signed.

"......How bout we see how you feel after a month?" Dimitri suggested.

"And if you don't like it, you can switch back to online school," My mom added.

"Ok," I signed.

"Are you ready to go?" My mom asked.

I nodded.

"Alright, let's go!" Isaiah exclaimed, holding his hand out for me. I held his hand, and we walked outside to the car, with Dimitri and my mom following us behind.

I am not looking forward to any of this.

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