" the hurt man " - erik menendez

chapter 5. ✧

"the hurt man"

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(tw: mentions of self harm and abuse)

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erik's pov

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monday morning

           i woke up that morning to banging on my door. i jumped, my heart racing and my palms starting to sweat. "OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!" i heard dad yell on the other side of my bedroom door.

my hands were trembling as i got up, hesitating to go to the door. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE!" i heard him yell again.

i immediately ran back to my bed and got under the covers as if it was some sort of shield to protect me from dad. i remembered what had happened last night, and what i told lyle.

sunday night

          i ran away from dad downstairs to the den. i didn't know why i went to the den, i just wanted to get away from him. i met mom in the den. "what's the matter with you?" she asked.

my hands were in my hair as i paced back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably. "nothing, you wouldn't understand." i said, my hands and entire body trembling.

"oh i understand." mom spoke. i turned my head to her with furrowed brows. i started to get the words what do you mean? out but i couldn't. i just stood there.

"what? do you think i'm stupid?" she scoffed. "i know. i've always known." she said as if she was bragging about her knowledge of the sexual abuse going on with dad.

i couldn't speak. i felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. i was very fond of mom. i admired her and her love for the birds when she'd help them after hitting the windows. but now i just saw mom and dad as the same person.

she was his shadow. always standing behind him and on his side. i knew then that mom didn't care for me. she hated me. she wanted me dead as much as my father did, if not more.

i just ran out the back doors of the den to the guest house. i ran upstairs to lyle's room. "she knows." i said immediately after i got into his room.

"what? what do you mean?" lyle asked as he stood up from sitting on his bed, putting down a book he was reading. "mom knows." i spoke again.

"knows what?" lyle asked. i hadn't told him about the abuse yet. i was scared he would think of me as a disgusting person. i was scared he'd think i liked it, that i wanted it to happen.

i couldn't get the words out. lyle saw me struggling as he placed his hands on my shoulders. "what happened?" he asked with a quieter tone than before.

and then i told him.

monday morning

          and so there i sat, under my covering trying to protect myself from dad. he banged on my door for what felt like forever.