Behind Closed Doors

Part 1 : Its only the beginning

Thalia Pov:

I lay awake staring at my ceiling. My room is dark, except for the soft glow of the night light I keep because I never let my room be void of light. I try to think or even speak, but all I feel is the numbness climbing its way through my body. My limbs grow heavy and the world around me starts to spin. My throat is dry and I try taking a deep breath in, but nothing happens. I try again, and again until I'm gasping for air forcing my body to breathe. Then my mind goes blank and I let the darkness take over.

                                         ...

I'm woken up by the light that shines in through my window. The sunlight reflects off my mirror projecting a rainbow on my wall. Some believe that rainbows are a sign of God's protection or a message of hope from a guardian angel. I've never been one to believe though. Growing up I never threw my coins in the fountain or wished on a shooting star, those actions required faith. And faith is something I stopped believing in a long time ago, right after I stopped trusting hope. My limbs are still heavy as I try to lift myself out of bed. My head feels like someone took a sledgehammer to it. Resisting the urge to lay back down I make my way slowly down the hall, trying to make as little noise as I can. I don't remember if he came home last night, all I remember is the yelling, the sounds of glass breaking and the front door being slammed. Nothing unusual in my house, but it's still better to avoid being seen when events such as those of last night happen. I stop when I reach the bathroom door turning the handle as slowly as possible hoping it won't squeak when I open it. As I close the door behind me I sag with relief not realizing I was holding my breath. I make my way over to the shower and turn the dial as hot as it goes. Its ritual as its as close as I can get to burning away memories such as the ones of last night. My father is an addict of sorts. Unlike most addicts though he doesn't waste away shooting himself up with drugs he doesn't know the name of. No, my father isn't your typical addict, he is worse in every possible way because he is addicted to power. My father is the chief of police in our small little town. After all the most lethal suspect is the one you never thought of to begin with. Have you ever heard the saying "Don't judge a book by its cover?" Well if every family had a slogan that would be ours. To everyone in our town we are the ideal family. We are perfect. My mother wouldn't allow it otherwise. We are expected to look a certain way, and uphold the best appearance to the public eye. And I must be the perfect daughter who is proper and poised, easy on the eyes, captain of whatever sport I play, and a straight A, honor roll student. Who most importantly never disobeys. Yet no matter how much I try to live up to these impossible expectations my brother Jax still comes first. Don't get me wrong I love my brother and he has done his very best to protect me from the worse parts of what we call family. But sometimes I wonder if I was just a little but better if I just did a little bit more would I be safer in my own house? I push that thought away though regretting it almost as i instantly as I  had thought it. I turn the shower off, stepping out and wrapping myself in my towel. I shiver a little as my bare feet touch the cold tiles. There's a light knock as I finished getting dressed. I expect it to be Jax wanting to talk about last night like he usually does, but when I open the door I'm shocked to see my father towering over me. He fills the doorway with his large frame trapping me in the bathroom. He takes a step towards me looking as though he has something he wants to say. But as he takes a step forward I can smell the alcohol on him making me flinch because my father never drinks, ever.

"Thalia. Why do you have to look so much like her?"

His words slur together indicating that he's had more than just a few drinks. I'm not sure how to respond. I've never seen my father like this and I don't want to say anything to trigger the anger I know he hides deep with himself.

"Who are you talking about Dad?"

I say quietly my voice trembling just a little. It was an honest response though because I look nothing like my parents or brother. While the rest of them have dark hair and dark eyes I've always been the odd one out. My hair is neither blonde nor brunette but somewhere in-between. Jax used to say it reminded him of honey when we were younger. But my eyes are what draws peoples attention. My mom used to always tell me my green eyes are like leaves with golden sunlight shining, filtering through them. That was before though.

"You know who I'm talking about. I'm talking about that damn woman who haunts every part of this town the woman I can't seem to escape."

His outburst startles me. I'm not sure how to react. He takes a step closer to me though and I can almost feel my self shrink in size.

"Thalia what did I tell you about liars and what we do to them?"

Thats when I feel his hands close around my neck squeezing the air from my lungs. I can feel the pressure of his grip crushing my neck. I dig my fingernails into his wrist trying to dislodge his hands around my neck. Instead he slams my head into the bathroom wall and the room around me starts spinning and dark spots start to fill my vision. As a last attempt I start kicking my legs trying to wiggle out but his grip is too strong. Finally I'm able to bring my knee up to his groin and put as much force into it as I can. He howls with pain allowing me to slip out of his grasp while his distracted.

"Bitch! You're just like your mother you know that? Mhmm pathetic as always"

He slaps me across the face hard, but before he could go any further he is pulled away by someone else. I don't bother trying to see who the other person is assuming its Jax. Instead I focus on the warm wet feeling and the coppery taste in my mouth. My hand trembles as I reach to touch my face where he hit it. I can already tell the left half of my face is going to be swollen. My lips sting as my hand finally reaches where it split open from the force of the impact. As I try to stand up to get a better look in the mirror the world starts spinning again and I instantly regret my sudden movements. But then I feel Jax's hands on my back helping me to stand up. I try to say thank you but no words come out.

"Don't speak until we know how serious this is. I mean how could I have let this happen I should've woken up sooner maybe I could have stopped this..."

I pull him in for a hug before he can continue. I feel like shit and it makes me nauseous to even move but he needs this more than I do. I know he'll be beating himself up over this for weeks but it's still better if he knows I forgive him and that it wasn't his fault. He pulls back to look at my face. It must be pretty bad if he's looking at me like that. He turns around and starts rummaging for supplies under the sink. The minute he turns around it all hits me at once. I felt my throat closing up, but I wouldn't allow myself to cry in front of him. No I would hold it together because I had to be strong for him just as he is strong for me. Jax turns around and I bite on my tongue to keep from crying.

"This is going to hurt."

I just nod because he was right, just like he was always right. And then I couldn't hold it in anymore. My body started shaking and I could feel the tears race down my cheeks. Jax carried me all the way back to bed and lied me down under the covers. I think he stayed in room for a little but I can't remember anything further than when my head hit the pillows.