Don't speak, don't look, and definitely don't run. These are the rules of which I have lived miserably by since, well, forever. I sat at the top of the stairs, tapping my pencil against my notebook, humming as the screams began to fade to whimpers. I glanced down at my fake older brother. At his fake tears, his fake pain, his fake hatred.
"You think this is funny, pretty boy?" my fake dad grinned up at me, tossing aside his bloody belt. I froze, realizing I had just broken a rule. I quickly shook my head and looked back down at my English homework.
His slow, lazy boots made their slow, lazy way up the stairs. One. Don't look. Two. Don't look. Three. Don't look. The fourth step creaked under his muscular frame. As he continued, I held my breath, waiting for it.
Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he leaned down and inhaled deeply. My heart felt like it was running a marathon; it might as well have.
"I'll see you tonight," he snickered, his hot, fowl breath lingering against my ear. Don't run. Don't run! Too late; I was down the stairs and out the front door in a matter of seconds. I ran blindly for what seemed like hours, cars honking everywhere I turned. Before I knew it, I was at the cemetery, my oasis, my safe haven.
I dropped to my bare knees in front of a massive, stone angel and screamed towards the dark, ominous sky. I screamed and screamed until my throat was raw, my lungs on fire, tears streaming down my cheeks. I screamed until all I could do was sob silently, my head in my hands, shoulders trembling.
Fresh snow slowly drifted down as I walked, barefoot, towards the big, empty church on the other side of the cemetery. My fingers and sleeves slowly ran and caught on the thorns of the bushes that lined the path, plucking a single, flawless white rose from the closest one.
I stood before the altar and bowed my head respectfully.
"Eli?" I turned and stared at Father Antonio.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned," I mumbled, ashamed. Holding up the rose, I slowly opened my tightly clenched fist to reveal the wounds I had inflicted. The Father dropped his bible as the rose tumbled to the ground, the pure white petals unaffected. Just like the world around me.
