She Paints Pain

Chapter 3

I sat down at the kitchen table and poured a glass of apple juice, gulping it down. Considering I woke up in the middle of the night, I actually don’t feel as tired this morning. I stood up to make some food when Jackson placed a plate of steaming hot food in front of me. “Jacks, you didn’t have to make me breakfast.”

          “You’re welcome.” He responded and went back to the stove, flipping pancakes in a pan. “Do you want to talk about it? I know you weren’t up to it last night.”

          I shook my head because my mouth was stuffed with eggs. Jackson put a pile of pancakes on a plate and then turned off the stove, walking towards where I was.

          “Rain,” he started. The last time I heard him start off a conversation like this one -in that tone- followed by a long serious pause was when he told me what the doctor discovered. “You know you can talk to me about anything -even what happened, right? I know it helps when you talk about it and if you want I can sign you up for a therapist again.”

          I sighed and shook my head before putting some scrambled eggs on my toast and then taking a bite out of it. I used to go to a therapist every day for a couple of years, but then I started to get better so Jackson switched it so that I only saw my therapist once a week. A couple of months ago Jackson stopped taking me because the therapist says I’m doing fine. “She said I don’t need a therapist because I’m doing so well.”

          “You don’t, but you liked going and I figured you might miss talking to someone besides me.”

          I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly and took a long gulp of my apple juice. I’m tired of it all and want everything in my memory to disappear. The nightmares and tiny things that remind me of my dad are the only things keeping me tied to my past. “I just want it all to be over. You said it would be when you killed him, but-”

          Jackson stood up and hugged me tightly, kissing the side of my head. “I know, sweetie. I wish you didn’t have to go through any of it.” After a minute of just holding me tightly, Jackson walked over to his tray of food for him and Chloe. “Have a good day at school, Rain.”

          He walked out of the kitchen and I sighed. “Doubt it.”

          Once I finished my food I put the dirty plate in the sink and then went back to my room to get my backpack. As I made my way downstairs, I caught a glimpse of Beck heading out the door. I quickened my pace, knowing fully well that he would leave without me.

          I put my hand between the door and the wall to stop it from closing behind him. A low growl rumbled from him and I tried not to flinch in response. I opened the door and walked out, closing it behind me.

          “Morning, Beck.” I smiled, hoping my brother would at least pretend not to hate me.

          “Don’t talk to me, I’m not in the mood.” His voice seemed thickly coated with a layer of sleep. For a split second I had the impression my crying woke him up last night and he had trouble sleeping, but I then noticed the barley visible dark circles under his eyes. He must’ve had trouble sleeping the last few days.

          “Are you okay, Beck? You look tired.” I stated while opening the door to his truck to climb in the back.

          “Just shut up. Seriously, do you not understand that I don’t want to talk to you?” He shouted, slamming his door shut.

          My bottom lip quivered as I flinched, past events tumbling in my head. I’m definitely afraid of Beck and him threatening me all the time added to my fear. As sad as it is, I know fully well that if he wanted to, he would physically hurt me. And that thought alone scared the daylights out of me. Sometimes I have nightmares about Beck, too. I never shared them with Jackson; he would just assume something happened.