Complete Undoing

THREE

I don't know how I drive home.

Between the blurry vision and me having to pull over just so I could call my therapist and get her to talk me through another panic attack.

They've also been happening a lot more recently.

I've had all the intentions of coming clean tonight to my father and grandfather about what's been happening in the past eighteen years and finally move on from it.

One thing stops me from opening my door.

Guilt.

If I do this, I'll tarnish whatever version of my mother they conjured up in their heads. Plus, who'd say they'd believe me.

My dad's already having enough trouble going through his days without her. She was his backbone.

She was also the daughter of my grandpa, who, with no doubt, stuck by her through everything.

I can't let them battle wars for me if they knew.

I couldn't just involve Tate either. He has enough going on as it is.

But I'm just tired. So damn tired. I've been tired for days, weeks, months, fucking years and I definitely don't need the weight of all the what ifs on my shoulders right now as I'm trying to get my shit together.

My grandmother would be rolling in her grave, knowing her little Tilly girl is still protecting the one person who never protected her. She raised me to hold my head up and to be a strong woman like herself, and let me tell you, my grandmother was a force to be reckoned with.

Even though she passed a couple of years ago, I still feel like I'm disappointing her.

Theirs been a couple of times she's been concerned about the bruises, but I just brushed her off, saying what I was taught to say.

"I fell off the swing."

"A Frisbee hit my face."

"Tate and I were playing."

It was a never-ending list of lies.

Back then, I used to think that I wasn't covering up for her. That was her way of tough love. Now, I'm not. I won't consider it anything less than what it was. Abuse.

Now, it'll stay buried deep within myself and Tate. Justice isn't what's important.

I just want to keep my peace of mind and not sacrifice it. I've been dealing with a lot of things on my own. What's another thing or two on my list?

I finally decided to step out of my car with a heavy heart and puffy eyes. I look up and notice the orange hues descending over the small property.

The front door squeaks, and I freeze. The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and my body is starting to tremble.

Then, a familiar figure stands in the doorway, and my heartbeat starts to wind down, and I take a calming breath.

"Where have you been?" My brother asks.

I notice he has one of his signature t-shirts on. This one says, "to quote hamlet, act III, scene III, line 92 'No'." And some grey sweat pants, and I'm guessing he was just reading since he has on his glasses.

"I just went out, riding and ended up at the pier. " I shrug. I make it a point not to talk feelings with Tate. Especially about mom. Even though he is my older brother, I don't want to worry him about me. After all, I am my brothers keeper.

"Well, it's almost midnight, and we both have to get up to make it to campus on time."

I roll my eyes and walk past him and into the house.

"It's only Friday, Tae, plus classes don't start til Monday." My brother is a perfectionist. I say he has a touch of OCD but he denies the fact. His idea of early is very different than mine, at least for a Saturday.

You'd think being a junior in college would make him more laid back about getting there, but that's not Tate.

He's the good boy, with good grades. He was the valedictorian. The boy who can be a spokesperson to "say no to drugs and alcohol." He might as well wear a fucking purity ring while he's at it since he's never had a fling or a girlfriend. Fuck he's never had friends unless you call those people he plays online with friends.

My brother is not ugly. He can probably pull any girl he wants but I can be a little biased since he's related to me and I'm fucking gorgeous.

He throws a finger in my direction, "Go to bed, Tilly."

"Ugh, you annoy me." I huff out.

"Isn't that what all brothers strive for?" He wraps an arm around me, walking me to my bedroom. My brother is five years older than me, and you'd never can tell it.

Some assume we're twins despite having different mothers. I mean, I can see it. We both share our dad's hazel eyes and brown hair. Tate looks more like dad, and I still don't know who I resemble.

"Remember, I'm leaving at seven sharp." I nod as he squeezes my shoulder and heads across the hall to his own room.

I set my alarm on my phone for six a.m. and check my boxed up stuff once more, making sure I haven't forgotten anything. Then, I take a quick shower and sit in bed.

Maybe this will be my new beginning.

A soft knock followed by the door opening before Tate picking his head in.

"I'm in bed Tae you don't have to check up on me." I playfully scoff, and he rounds my bed and pulls me up and wraps his arms around me, and I don't dare as to breathe.

We cling to each other in complete silence. Knowing that we needed each other's company.

It's always been Tate and I. We're a team. He's always seen the violation in my eyes and never pushed or pressed.

"Tils..." He pulls my shaking body closer to his, "it'd be okay, we'll be okay, and most importantly, you're going to be okay. Okay?" I nod and bury my face in his chest as I soak his shirt full of tears mixed with snot.

Surprisingly, this is the first time I feel like I can actually let go. The first time, even after moms death, I felt safe.

I cling onto my brother, fingers digging into his back like he's my lifeline.

He's my favorite person.

After a while, we let go. He doesn't leave, but he does hop in bed beside me like we used to do as kids and talk about all the things we want for our future until we both fall asleep.

Maybe just maybe things will start to look up for the Carson kids.