The Sociopath Who Ate My Cereal

Lucas Michael Avery Part 1.5

Ouch. Mother fucking ouch. Those were the only words I could think of as my eyes fluttered open. I felt like someone cracked my head open with a hammer.

"Shit." I muttered as I slowly rolled over. My hands flailing about trying to get my bearings. Where was I? I sat up, one hand cradling my head tenderly. I looked around in complete confusion.

I was straight up in a horror film. The room around me was familiar but had clearly been taken away by time as it showed signs of slowly falling to pieces.

I was in the old Hathaway House. Years ago a family had lived in the house on the quiet corner of Taylor Street. They were like everyone else. Though I was too young to remember their faces and their name I knew from stories they weren't unusual. But one day they suddenly moved away. I don't know why no one ever bought the house after they moved. But the house, lovingly called Hathaway House by the neighbors due to it being the name of the original builders years ago, stayed empty.

Over the years it became a haunted house story. No one goes in because if you did no one comes out.

But Lucas was never scared of the house. Neither was Catherine. I remember being forced by the two of them to enter the house multiple times. The two siblings had made it their little hide away. Soon just like the Averys I too would no longer find the house scary.

Each one of us had a "room" in the house. One where we could call our own. But like children do Lucas and I grew out of coming to the house. But I remember Catherine never did. Despite being so much older than us I remember she still liked to visit the house. Well at least she had a few years ago when I had last seen her.

I looked around and realized I was in "my room" in the house. Nothing had changed really. All my "treasures" were still scattered about. Only now the whole room was filled with dust and fallen debris. The walls were covered in graffiti and the floor was a mess. The only clean thing was the small area around a sleeping bag, which I found myself inside.

I slowly detangled myself from the sleeping bag and got up. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remember what happened.

I was in the Avery's attic. I had been there overnight. I found - "FUCK! Lucas' real mom is Catherine!" I exclaimed remembering what I had discovered. "Holy shit. Shit shit shit." I tried to remember the name I had seen listed as the father but I couldn't. It was there, like on the tip of my tongue but it was escaping me.

I started to leave the room as I tried to remember. My feet carried me to the room next door to 'mine'. It was Lucas' room. I peeked in, despite the clearly falling apart state of the structure of the room it was clean as a whistle. There was a small cot on the floor, the bed neatly made. This must have been where Lucas had been hiding the last few days. I wasn't surprised he had been here. In fact I was more disappointed that I hadn't ever thought to check here. I guess the house had faded away in my memory.

I kept walking down the hall to Catherine's room. When I peered in I saw another room. Much like Lucas's. It was clearly lived in. Only the difference between the two is Catherine's wasn't empty besides a bed. Catherine's room looked well lived in.

"Where you living here?" I asked an invisible Catherine under my breath. "What were you doing here?" I stepped into the room and looked around the walls. Much like a teenage girl the walls were taped with pictures of Lucas throughout the years. My eyes flitted across the wall as I took in Lucas's whole life in through photos. She even had the article clippings when he was arrested from the incident with Craig and I.

Figures. Lucas Michael Avery.

Lucas Michael Avery, my childhood started with him, it shouldn't have surprised me that even into my teenage life he'd still be such an integral part of me. Honestly, my could life ended with him too.

If this was a normal story he'd be the popular jock, or maybe just the bad boy who has a little bit of a problem with the law but secretly a sweetheart. I'd be the childhood best friend and we'd end up together. This isn't a normal story.

You shouldn't fall in love with someone who had been classified as a sociopath. It's not healthy. It's toxic, blood boiling, DNA changing, Harley Quinn creating toxic. I might have just followed Harley's lead and jump right into that vat of acid. At least that way I too could become just as crazy as he is.

Or maybe just by being near him I was marinating in the acid. Slowly losing my sanity.

But what do I know about healthy?

My body felt heavy as I walked through the cold building. The air was damp and my lungs filled with what I could only image was black mold spores, that was how dilapidated  the building was. I continued to walk through the building. I couldn't believe she lived here. After all I had grown up watching her, her beautiful smile, her bright eyes. Who didn't love her? I know I had.

I stopped mid stride and notice a familiar figure. One I knew all too well. One who I couldn't stuff my feelings down for. Even if he couldn't return mine, I would love him. Through anythi ng. Even if it killed me.

"Lucas?"

"Yes Candy Cane?" His voice calm, collected, with no emotion behind it.

"Is that-" I couldn't finish my sentence. I wasn't sure how to. I stepped around him and I stared down numbly at the bloody figure I could barely make up. Her face was absolutely mangled. The tips of my fingers were stinging, a rush of noiseless sound filled my ears, I could feel hot bile spill from my mouth, cascading on to the concrete floor.

Her face. If that is even what you could call it anymore. Her eyes were swollen shut, her mouth half open into a permanent scream, her cheek bones crushed into themselves. Her jaw didn't look like it was attached to her face anymore, her nose had clearly been broken. You wouldn't have been able to even tell who she was by looking at her.

I touched my neck softly while looking at her black and blue throat. I remembered the feeling of hands wrapped around me, preventing me from breathing. I was gasping for air now. Tears were streaming down my eyes.

How the fucking hell did I end up here?

"Is that her?" I managed to choke out with vomit dripping down my face.

Lucas looked at me with bored eyes. "My mother?" He gestured at her, with a shrug and a nudge. "Yup. That's her."

Mini update guys. I really am trying to wrap this up. I have several half written chapters. But I'm tired as hell.

The last year I:
1. I had miscarriage
2. Finished up my college degree (changed my life career) with a toddler
3. Got pregnant with my rainbow baby
4. Student taught while pregnant (not recommended)
5. Planned and postponed and planned my wedding. (We got married but never had an actual wedding!)
6. Bought a house (not fun in this market)
7. Gave birth (had the worst birth experience in the world. To spare you the details I had to have an emergency c-section after going through 34 hrs of labor)
8. Going for my masters with a toddler and having a newborn.

I mean everything is worth it but it's super hard to finish up the story. But seeing everyone's comments makes me REALLY WANT TO FINISH THIS UP! So I'm really trying hard to going forward to write at least every other day.

ALSO my babies are my life but boy do they take up a lot of time!

😓☠️

Vote. Comment. Make me WANT TO WRITE AGAIN! ❤️❤️