My life

The day out

I heard my father's voice cut through the house like a warning siren.

"Genevieve, get everyone to the car. Now."

My stomach dropped instantly.

My body moved before my mind could even catch up. I rushed through the house, gathering the kids as quickly as I could. There were only three of them—thirteen, ten, and seven—but in that moment it felt like chaos.

One couldn't find their shoes.

Another kept asking questions I didn't have time to answer.

I tried to stay calm, reminding myself not to rush too much. Not to make a mistake. One wrong move and I knew exactly who would pay for it.

Me.

By the time I finally got them outside and buckled into their seats, my hands were shaking.

A moment later my parents stepped outside.

My father walked straight toward me.

My chest tightened instantly, and my shoulders curled inward without me even realizing it. My body was already preparing itself. Already bracing for the hit.

Already counting how many seconds it would take to recover.

But instead, he grabbed my arm.

His grip was tight and unforgiving, his fingers digging into skin that was already sore. He leaned in close enough that I could smell his breath.

"You better be on your best behavior today," he said quietly. "Any screwups, and you're gonna wish you were dead."

"Yes, sir," I said immediately.

The words came out automatically, like muscle memory.

And the worst part was that I believed him.

I wasn't a kid anymore. I was getting older. Harder to control. Harder to ignore. I could see it in the way they looked at me sometimes, like I was something heavy they were tired of carrying.

The drive to the boardwalk felt endless.

I stared out the window most of the way, watching the buildings pass by while trying to keep my breathing steady. Every bump in the road sent a sharp reminder through my ribs.

When we finally arrived, my heart sank the moment I saw him.

My cousin.

The one who had taken a special interest in me.

My chest tightened again, like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I never told my family what he did. I used to think it was because I was scared.

Now I think part of me always knew it wouldn't matter.

They would have found a way to make it my fault.

I forced myself out of the car and walked over to the group. I said hello when I was supposed to, smiled when people expected it, and tried to make myself smaller when I could.

Soon everyone started walking along the boardwalk. The kids ran ahead toward the games and bright lights, laughing and pointing at everything they wanted to try.

My father turned to me.

"Stay in the back," he said. "Watch the kids so they don't wander off."

I nodded.

But I knew the real reason.

He didn't want me walking beside him.

I didn't look like I belonged.

I was too thin. Too pale. And no matter how much makeup I had tried to put on earlier, the bruise on my face from that morning still showed through.

I could feel people looking at me sometimes, even when they tried not to.

The heat pressed down on me as the day dragged on. Sweat stuck to my skin, and every quick movement sent pain shooting through my ribs.

My cousin stayed near me the entire time.

Always just close enough.

He never touched me where anyone could see. Instead, he leaned close whenever no one was looking and whispered things only I could hear.

Cruel little reminders.

Words meant to make sure I never forgot what he could do.

At one point he stepped closer and smiled like we shared some kind of secret.

"My favorite cousin's birthday is coming up," he said softly. "I've got a special present for you."

My stomach turned cold.

I knew exactly what he meant.

For the rest of the day, I counted everything.

Minutes.

Steps.

Exits.

I kept watching the crowd, trying to figure out if there was any way I could disappear without anyone noticing.

But every time I thought about running, I looked over and saw my little sister.

She was running around laughing, her face glowing with excitement as she played the games and pointed at the rides she wanted to go on.

Seeing her so happy hurt almost as much as everything else.

I wanted to protect her.

From this world.

From people like them.

From becoming someone like me.

As the sun slowly started to sink and my legs ached from standing all day, my father finally spoke again.

"We're going to dinner," he announced.

"A restaurant down the street."

I froze.

I was surprised.

That meant he had to let me eat.

And somehow... even something that small felt dangerous to hope for.