It was the next morning. I cried myself to sleep last night. I don't know why. Maybe it was because of the look in his eyes, the evil clearly visible as if he wanted something. He wanted me. I didn't want to give myself to him. He's my step brother now, this wasn't right and he knew it. When I opened the door and walked down the hallway, I saw mom by the sink washing some dishes as he sat at the table in one of the chairs. He glanced up at me. He hadn't technically done anything wrong yet, but he did know that it was wrong to have stared at me like that. I kept my eyes on the floor as I made my way to the table. There were and always had been four chairs there. The one on the very end was dad's and everyone was sure to leave that be. Mom had her seat right beside that one, leaving me no choice. I had to sit by him. He stared down at his scrambled eggs as he poked the end of his fork on them. I knew he was preventing eye contact with me. I sat myself down and greeted mom with a "good morning" before eating.
YOU ARE READING
Please Don't Touch Me...
Short StoryA short story about a teenaged girl who was sexually assaulted by her older step brother and what happened to her when the pain and suffering became overwhelming and she couldn't take it any longer.
