Being

Part 2

        I hear the front door bang shut as Peyton enters the house. I grimace and will the grilled cheese I'm making to cook faster. 

       Peyton comes home around 4-ish, because of sports, which is a full 2 hours ahead of when Matthew comes home. Despite the fact that Matthew usually beats me around, it's these 2 hours that I fear the most. 

       "My sandwich better not be burnt." Peyton threatens as he comes toward the kitchen. I look up at his face, and am stuck once again by how much evil can come out of a person that looks so handsome and good-natured. 

       Peyton has dark brown hair, and brown eyes and freckles. He has an athletes body, and a lot of muscle from working out everyday.

       I slide his sandwich on a plate for him, and pass it over the counter.

       "Here you go." I say, wincing at his stare.

       "Come and sit in my lap while I eat. Give your dear old brother some company." He says, eyeing my up and down.

       His way of looking at me sends shivers up and down my whole body, but I get on his lap anyway. I know the consequences of not following his directions will be much worse.

       He turns me around so I'm facing him, and slides one of his hands around my waist, and with the other, takes a bite of his grilled cheese. 

       "Let's go have some fun." He says, and pulls me up the stairs with him. I know what's coming next, and my heart begins beating faster and faster. 
       "No, no, no!" My brain screams, but I can't say anything.

       He throws me onto his bed, pins me down under his weight, and starts taking off his clothes

       "You're so fat, just look at your legs." He growls. "You're so disgusting. Tomorrow I'm going to make you start running. I can't have a fat and ugly little sister."

       He starts pulling down the zipper on my jeans, and pulls them off of me. Next, he grabs my shirt and throws it over his head. 

       He smiles looking at me, and begins touching my all over. He starts tracing my thighs, and then moves up and up until he's on my waist, just on the line of my underwear, he rips them off and keeps going up, all the way to my breasts. He gropes both of them, and starts kissing my collarbone.

       My heart is beating so fast I can hardly contain it, and then suddenly, he's reaches up, and instantly, I know what's going to happen next. 

       "No, please no!" I plead.

       "Don't pretend you're not going to enjoy this as much as I do." Peyton whispers in my ear.

      Then, he's inside of me. He's pushing up and down and up and down so fast that tears spring to my eyes, although I don't know if it's from the pain so much as my utter disgust at Stephen for doing this to me, and at myself for not doing anything to fight back. 

       When he's done, he gets up and zips his pants, and walks out of the room. That's it.

       Not like I'd been expecting for him to give me a hug or anything, but for some reason, him just leaving me here feels so much worse, like it's just what I deserve, which i guess i do.

       Later, after I've made dinner for Sir and Peyton ( I didn't get any of course, although even if I had gotten some, I wouldn't have eaten it), I get in my bathroom. Sir and Peyton have gone to his baseball game tonight, so I have the whole house to myself. I pride myself on my clean bathroom. While the rest of the house is always in shambles because of my brother and step-father, no matter how much I clean it, they don't come in here that much, and I like to keep it that way. I turn on the shower, trying to warm up the water, then take out my measuring tape and circle it around every part of my body, recording it in my notebook. My thighs are 6 centimeters bigger than they were yesterday, but my arms are 4 centimeters smaller. 

     Then, finally, I pull the scale out from my cupboard. I gulp before stepping on it, already dreading the number. I stand on top of it, and almost gasp at the number.

     I've gained 5 pounds. 

     My brain is racing, trying to think of excuses for why I would have gained weight, but there are none. I have eaten anything all day. 

     It must be my stupid body trying to retaliate against me and create fat just for the fun of it.

     Tears spring to my eyes. It didn't used to be like this. I used to live with my mom. I ate cheeseburgers and salads and it didn't matter which. When I went to the doctors office, the number on the scale didn't mean anything to me.  My mom always let me eat whatever I wanted. My mom- my mom. 

     Suddenly, my breath was coming in shaky, quick gasps. I couldn't hold the air in. It just seemed to flow right out of me. Black specks started to appear in my vision, and the world is tilting. I'm falling, right into my pristine shower. I hear a loud crash, and I realize the edge of the tub is cracked. The sound reverberates through my ears, but I just can't care anymore. The water is still streaming down, and when I fall, it splashes all around me. It's freezing cold, just as I knew it would be, but I had still tried to warm it up. I still had hoped that even a little warmth would come through. I reach out, and with a trembling hand, turn the handle down, and the water finally stops, just like my hope that my life will be anything more than this.

     My eyelids feel so heavy, and I just can't anymore. I close my eyes, and let the cool darkness envelop me, once and for all.