I Hate Love

Changes

In the blink of an eye, I was seventeen. I had finally given up my rambunctious, rebelling foster kid ways, and I found a nice foster family that was willing to take me in. I only made it this far thanks to selective podcasts. I listened to self-help podcasts mostly. I had way too many issues to be able to survive alone in the adult world, and none of my foster families were willing to send some random teen to therapy. The only help I had were from podcasts, music, and school counseling. I was... fine for the most part.

I was in the system for so long because no one wanted a kid that was already so old. Especially one with the luggage I carried. So, it was inferred that I was doomed to stay in foster care until adulthood. However, all of that changed when I met the García family. Elena and Quinn were the first couple to make me truly feel as if I belonged to a family again, and I wasn't the only kid there. They had their biological son, and were also fostering a set of twins. Kassidy and Christian were the twins. They were eleven, and had been with the family since they were five. Then, there was Mateo, their son. He had recently turned nineteen, and was still living with his parents while attending online college. I'm not proud to say it, but he was the first person I fell in love with.

Mateo was typically the smartest person in the room. He had soared through his grade-school years, and his college years were just as much of a breeze. He wasn't the tallest person, but he was taller than me. His often rough appearance had it's own subtle charm. His unshaven five o'clock shadow complimented his jawline. He was as fit as he was funny. Every day, you could expect Mateo to say some random, spontaneous thing that would have everyone crying with laughter. Whenever he wasn't doing school stuff, he was helping others or playing games in the yard with the twins. The only flaw he had was that he liked to toy with other girls' hearts, but they didn't even care. They just fell at his feet. I did too.

The following year, I was released from the foster program. The Garcia family now had no reason to care for me. Yet, they still did. They were so kind, but I still moved out anyway. I had applied and been accepted into college, where I would move onto campus. However, due to my lack of scholarships, they offered to help pay my tuition. Of course, I declined it again. However, I did still return for holidays and some weekends. I had a family again, despite the fact that I was never adopted. Much unlike the twins on their twelfth birthday.

It was the spring break of my sophomore year in college when the interactions between Mateo and I began changing. Instead of the silly jokes and side glances he would catch me taking, we were having deep, adult conversations. We would discuss our futures and what we wanted to make of our lives. However, during one conversation, we realized something. Right there, in my old bedroom, we came to the conclusion that neither of us wanted to lose anyone from this family. Especially not each other. Especially... not each other... because he loved me and everyone else.

But he was just talking about family love, right?

At least, that's what I thought before I felt his lips connect with mine. His left hand sat on the back of my neck while his right hand found itself firmly on my back. From the surprise, my hands were up in a surrendering position. This was the last thing I had expected to happen. Even if I wanted to pull away, there was no escape. But I didn't. My once widened eyes fluttered closed as I wrapped my arms over his shoulders.

Was it possible to feel this warm? To feel this safe? To feel this overjoyed?

I felt as his hand began moving. The one that was formerly on my neck had now moved to my shoulder. It was applying pressure, pushing me backward. He himself also adjusted. I soon found myself flat on my back as he leaned over me. When I felt him tug on the waistband of my shorts, the fantasy came to an abrupt halt.

I broke the kiss immediately, placing my hand between our two faces.

"Mateo, wait," I gasped.

"Why, Oaks? We're both adults now. We can do this sort of thing," he replied with a smirk.

"This isn't right. We are siblings."

"Siblings? You weren't even adopted. If anything, you were a roommate that was a minor."

That kind of hurt. Without meaning to, I showed my underlying pain in my face. He saw, but it only made him roll his eyes.

"Come on, baby," he whispered as he began kissing my neck, "Let's just have a little bit of fun."

"Mateo, no!"

I smacked him on the back of the head to get him off, but that only seemed to make him angrier. In an instant, I found his hands against my throat. I couldn't breathe. He was crushing my esophagus. I struggled under his grip. Only meek whimpers escaped.

"Listen here, bitch," Mateo hissed into my ear, "You're going to sit there quietly and take it."

Though my head was stuck facing the ceiling, I could hear as he unbuckled and dropped his pants. I could feel the fear begin the course through my veins. I still couldn't breath. I began flailing under his grip. Trying to remove his hand from my throat. However, it was futile. I watched as the room began to spin, growing dimmer and dimmer.

When I woke up again, I was alone in my room. It was already dark outside. I must've missed dinner by then. I pulled the blankets back, only to be startled by the small pool of blood between my legs. My period wasn't for another three weeks. When I tried to get up to go to the bathroom, I felt extreme pain in my legs. I struggled to walk, hardly able to keep myself up as I limped into the bathroom. I hopped into the shower, but it seemed the bleeding had already stopped. It was strange. This whole ordeal was odd. When I got out of the shower, I immediately went for my phone. I had to figure out why my body was like this. However, it seemed as though all signs pointed toward losing your virginity.

Suddenly, the realization hit me like a rock. As I brushed a hand across my neck, it felt sore. I hurried back into the bathroom, wiping the steam from the mirror in order to examine my neck. There they were. The bruises. Some darker than others. That was it then. I was choked unconscious and... and taken advantage of? How could he? Why?