Free

Chapter 1

"Hon, you've got to eat. You've been in your room all day!" My mother pleaded from the opposite side of my bedroom door.

"I know, Mom. I'll– I'll be out there in a bit."

I listened as her footsteps receded down the hall to take her seat at the dining table. I really didn't want to leave the comfort of my room. It was my safe haven. If I left, things would start happening. Bad things... It was to be expected, though. Last time, my little sister got her head stuck in the front yard fence while I was trying to play with her; she's in the hospital now. I looked over and stared blankly at the gently-flashing LED lights lined in the corners of my room. I looked away and caught a glimpse of the razor on my dresser. Staring at it for a while, I sighed. That feeling again... Well, might as well get it over with. I decided to satisfy my urge and got up, gently lifting the razor off of its resting place. Flipping it around in my palm lightly, I sat back on my bed. Looking behind me, I reached my hand under my pillow and felt for a certain towel I'd put under it. Where is it...? Once I found it, I pulled it out from under my pillow and laid it out neatly on my lap. It was dirty with stains of dried blood over the past few years. I held my razor in my left hand, closed my eyes and took a shallow, shaky breath. Setting my right-hand wrist over the towel, I closed my eyes and pressed the blade into my skin. It's my fault Marie's in the hospital. I scolded myself as I slowly moved the razor to sever the delicate skin on my wrist. It's my fault Mom and Dad divorced... I continued the same familiar motion time and time again, watching blood streaming from each cut. And it's my fault Mom has to work five JOBS! It felt like I'd said the last thought aloud. I let out a quiet sob and put down the razor. I wrapped my wrist in the towel and began wiping off the blood; setting the cloth back under my pillow when I'd finished. Getting up, I slipped into my favorite red and yellow hoodie and reluctantly walked out of my room toward the kitchen. I heard Mom humming. I recognized the song, since it was playing on a music channel on the TV. Mom had quite the singing voice since she'd been the lead singer in a band back in her day. She even gave me little singing lessons whenever she felt I sounded like a dying cat on helium. I'd missed the old days. The days when Mom, Dad, Marie and I spent nearly every day together. Going places, doing weird projects, playing games, etc. That was all up until they got that divorce, because apparently they both had different views of mine and Marie's future. They couldn't compromise either, so they split. When Mom's new boyfriend Brodie showed up, everything got so much worse. He started bossing me around, telling me to do his dishes or get him beer or whatever. He'd try to force himself into my room and he'd take Marie's stuff and throw them out, or put them somewhere she couldn't reach. The worst part was: He was visiting again today. O, sweet Lord, have mercy. This is just like one big AITA story, only worse. I couldn't help rolling my eyes just thinking about him. I hated the way he treated my little sister and I. The good thing was that he treated Mom like the absolute goddess she is. Hopefully, I thought, things will go better today.

"Jackie?" Mom questioned.

'Jackie' was my preferred name. I'm a 16-year-old non-binary pansexual with the deadname 'Cassie'. Mom used my preferred name because – to be honest – we all agreed it suited me better. Cassie was the name Dad insisted on. Brodie called me Jackie because we hadn't told him about my deadname.

"Yeah..?" I replied quietly, waiting for my food to be served so I could head back to my room to eat.

"You already know Brodie's coming over again. Things are a bit rocky between us so I want you to lock your door when he gets here and stay in your room. Do you still have your snack stash somewhere?"

I only nodded as I watched her set my plate down.

"Good. If you get hungry, eat from there. He won't be sleeping over, so you won't have to live off it."

I nodded once again and got up; picking up my plate. I walked around the table and gave Mom a quick hug and kiss. She smiled and I was off to my 'dungeon'. I walked in and locked my door; setting my plate on my desk. I melted into my bed; wincing as the fabric of my sweater brushed up against the slim wounds on my wrists. Just relax, Jackie. He won't get you while you're in here. I sighed and switched on the TV in front of my bed, trying to forget about Brodie. He was a jerk and everyone knew it. Even Dad. I eventually zoned out and jumped when I heard someone pounding on my door. Sigh... Brodie was here. I heard Mom pleading for him to calm down but, gladly, I didn't hear him hurting her in any way. I tried my hardest not to pay attention to him until he stopped. I let out a breath of relief when the excessive knocking ceased and sat up calmly, deciding to get on my phone. I was scrolling through Reddit until I heard Brodie's voice.

"Oi, kid! Get the hell out of there and go get me a pack 'o' beer!" He demanded, clearly already tipsy.

I groaned aloud and put my phone down, unlocking my room door and opening it.

"How 'bout you get it yourself you lazy, pathetic drunkard!" I yelled in his face, slamming the door and locking it once more.

When I locked the door, I pressed my back up against it and slid down, hugging my knees to my chest. I heard a gruff: "Be right back" and the front door close. He left. He actually listened. Whoa... I told him to do that! I can finally stand up to him! About time, hormones. I smiled to myself, getting up and going to my desk. I had subconsciously eaten my plate of breakfast earlier while watching TV. I pushed the plate aside and sat, turning on the speaker on the corner of my desk to play music. I got my sketchbook out and began drawing blankly. Drawing was therapeutic to me. I actually felt happy while drawing. For a while, I'd forgotten about the razor, About Marie, Brodie and every problem in the world I had. For the first time in what seemed like 5 years, I smiled genuinely.