Captivated by His Sensuality

Chapter 1: New Member of the Family

TRIGGER WARNING: Themes that may be upsetting to some viewers: sickness, body image, abuse, and talk of death.

Brimming with fiery hatred, my stepmother fixed her gaze upon me. Her damaged affection for me immediately dissolved and the cracked image of us finally shattered; we were completely different people to one another. 

"You little-!" she screamed. Cursing, she grabbed my suitcase and shoved me out the door, "You better never come back!"

My elbows scraped against the rough concrete as my thin arms cushioned the fall. Without another word, the door was slammed, and my home was forever gone. Physical pain was something I barely noticed, for my supposed mother caused me such a jarring fall. 

Heartache plagued my mind with sorrow. Tears flowed as I lay hopelessly sprawled in the same position I had landed. It's my fault. It's my fault, I spun around the words again and again, aiming to engrave them into my mind. No. Another part of me said. It wasn't me. It was her.

Six months ago, my dad remarried and as a loving daughter should have been, I was happy for him. There was just something about Duna that always seemed off. However, once she lived in the house for a few months, those suspicions faded. If only I had been smarter...

It was a few months after the wedding when we had a long conversation on the living room couch—the first with just the two of us alone. She became surprisingly open about her insecurities and so I felt comfortable enough to share mine. It took me a long time to warm up to people, but she was so genuine and personable that, although I had always struggled to open up, I felt as though I could say almost anything to her.

"I wasn't very popular either at your age," she had said, putting a comforting hand on my leg, "I've struggled with my body image ever since I was thirteen. I remember looking at all those magazines filled with skinny supermodels. They were perfect. I wanted their small waists and high cheekbones, but no matter how hard I exercised or how healthy I ate, I could never become as beautiful as them."

I lowered my gaze to my small waist and touched my cheek. Aren't those things more of a curse rather than a blessing? Duna continued, "I learned to deal with people like that. Don't worry about those little stuck-up girls at school. If they ignore you for your looks, or whatever their issue is with you, they aren't people worth talking to."

"You're right," I replied and hugged her. "Thank you, Duna."

We kept our arms wrapped around each other for a moment as I took in the loving, motherly embrace. The feeling of being wanted. "I am so grateful you came into my life," I whispered.

She smiled and let go in order to look at me. "Absolutely, girlie! And call me mom. We're family, now."

I felt a knot in my stomach. Are we at that point yet? I decided to try it and tested out the name, "Okay... Mom." For some reason, it was hard to call her that, but I wanted a bonded relationship with her. She was kind and caring. In the beginning, I had misjudged her. Never would I have thought she was such an easy person to talk to.

Three days passed and it was my eighteenth birthday. Duna spent hours decorating the house and my dad whipped up my favorite cake, red velvet. A few friends came with presents consisting of gift cards stuffed inside envelopes. As birthdays go, it was not very exciting, but it was simple and it was sweet.

A week later, I heard from upstairs Duna calling up to me, "Trish! I have a gift for you!" She held a silver paper-wrapped box with green ribbon. My favorite color, she remembered it! I giddily thought and ran the last flight of stairs to stand before her, marveling at the small gift with green ribbon.