HAUNTINGLY | 18+

4 | Birthday

*Trigger Warning: mentions of substance abuse, depression, assault, and suicide.*

Startled by the sound of breaking glass, I woke up abruptly. Glancing at the clock, I groggily read 4:27 a.m.

Sensing something was wrong, I carefully climbed out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs, ensuring my footsteps made no noise. As I reached the bottom, I cautiously peered around the corner, hiding myself partially behind the wall.

My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight before me. The floor was covered with shattered glass. My gaze shifted to the table, and my heart sank. It was cluttered with small white pills and empty bottles of alcohol.

Lost in the intensity of the scene unfolding in front of me, I failed to notice that I had stepped out from behind the wall and was now fully visible. That was my first mistake.

I glanced up and found myself locked in Jason's intense gaze. Panic surged through me, and I swiftly turned to escape to the safety of my room.

However, he was much faster than me. He swiftly grabbed hold of my shirt, forcefully slamming me to the ground. The shattered glass on the floor pierced my skin, causing a sharp pain that made me hiss in discomfort.

His laughter echoed with a malevolent tone, sending shivers down my spine. "Layla, I'm glad that you decided to join in on the game with your dear big brother," he sneered.

My heart pounded in my chest as I whimpered, anticipating the impending assault.

His fist struck my face, sending shockwaves of pain through me, and a whimper escaped my lips. The assault didn't relent as another blow landed forcefully on my stomach, leaving me gasping for air.

Tears streaming down my face, I wailed in agony as he yanked mercilessly at my hair, forcefully dragging me across the room. The shards of shattered glass on the floor sliced into my skin, leaving a trail of blood that stained the floors.

"It's all your fucking fault Layla! It's your fault that mom died giving birth to you!" He hit my face.

"It's your fault that dad committed suicide from how fucking depressed he was from losing mom!" Another hit.

"Jason, please stop," I pleaded, my voice trembling as I instinctively tried to shield myself, knowing deep down it was futile.

He was stronger and bigger than me. I was too weak to protect myself. I didn't have the strength to run out that door and never turn back.

Or maybe I did, but I chose not to.

Perhaps it was because he was my own flesh and blood, that I clung to a glimmer of hope. I knew this monster wasn't my brother.

It was the alcohol and drugs that had transformed him into a stranger. I had hope he would eventually stop abusing the drugs and alcohol, and he would return to being his old loving self.

That was my second mistake. I held onto the hope that he would return to the person I once knew, but the painful truth was that his affections were devoted solely to the substances that held him captive.

One last kick came straight to my stomach. I cried in pain. Every part of my body was hurting. "You fucking ruined my life. As long as I'm alive I'll make sure to ruin yours," he said before walking out the front door.

I remained motionless on the floor, tears cascading down my face, consumed by the excruciating pain.

I woke up with tears streaming down my cheeks, my heart pounding in my chest with an intensity I couldn't shake.