Confide In Me| Paused

Chapter 12~The Eastwood Boys

♡Isabella~

I open the creaky old door to my house, just like any other day. It's a bit chilly outside, and I can hear the leaves rustling in the wind.

Eli's words keep echoing in my head, "Don't let the monsters get you." He said it with a playful grin, but it's been stuck in my mind.

If only he knew that my monsters aren't underneath my bed, but they're right in the very bloodline I share with my mother. I don't see myself as a monster, but what if it's some generational curse or something? What if I'm just doomed to this, to being a monster behind closed doors, just like my mother?

I shake my head and try to push those thoughts away. I don't want to believe that I'm like my mom, that I'm some kind of monster.

But sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see the same glint of anger and darkness in my eyes that I've seen in her.

I'm numb to the bone, just like her. Like an old corpse, with no emotion, no form of life. I don't want to be like that.

But that's what I'm accustomed to. It's what I know best. I've only ever known hurt and neglect.

So how was I supposed to love with my entire being if I don't understand what love is?

A simple four letter word, has less meaning to me than the dirt underneath my shoe.

It's a foreign concept. Something I don't ever think I'd be able to possess.

I step into the house, hoping that I can keep those monsters at bay, that I can be better than what my family history suggests. Maybe Eli's words were just a playful tease, but they've left me with a lot to think about.

I walk further into the kitchen, and there she is, my mother, standing at the island, her eyes fixed on some papers spread out before her. In her hand, there's a shot glass, and the light amber liquid inside it glistens in the soft kitchen light.

I try to tiptoe past her, hoping not to draw any unwanted attention.

But, of course, my mom calls out to me. I hesitate and then slowly make my way towards her.

She looks up from the papers, and her eyes meet mine. It's an unusual look on her face, a mixture of concern and something else I can't quite put my finger on.

"Have you eaten?" she asks, and I can't help but stare at her with a questionable gaze. She never asks personal questions, especially not about something as mundane as whether I've eaten or not.

I quickly conceal my surprise and manage to reply, "Yeah,I had something earlier."

Something is off. Something is very, very wrong. My mom's behavior is like a puzzle piece that doesn't fit, and it's starting to make me worry.

Is the world coming to an end? Is this the day I die? Why is she being nice?

My heart beats faster as my mother's gaze falls back to the papers on the island.

The silence stretches, and then she says something that shocks the living breath out of me, "I'm sorry, you know. I didn't mean for it to be like this. I didn't mean to hurt you. I wanted to protect you."

Those words are so different, so new, so wrong coming from her. My mind screams that I can't accept this apology. It's fake, a lie, but for what purpose?

What's the bigger picture here? She wants me to be vulnerable, weak. I can't allow her to take advantage of me, never again.

I scoff, unable to hold back the bitterness in my voice, and my mother's gaze changes back to that dark, old, normal way she looks, as though she wants to kill me. I edge her on with a knowing glaze, challenging her with my eyes, silently daring her to come at me.