Someone Willing to Stay

Everbody Leaves

My life has been uneventful. I had hoped that My life has been fairly uneventful. I had hoped that before I died I would have traveled the world, or at least left my home state of Washington. Sixteen years of doing homework in my room and hiding behind my mom in the grocery store; it all amounted to nothing.

Today, my life is going to end. Of course, it isn't my choice. I don't get to choose half of the things that get thrown my way.

For example: I didn't choose to get a flat tire on the way home from school. I didn't choose for my mother to not answer my phone calls. I didn't choose for the towing service to deny picking up my car all because I was only a mile away from my destination.

It's officially past my curfew. Well, it's ten minutes past the curfew that Adam has set for me. He's my brother, so he should understand why I had to call him and tell him to expect me later than usual because I was forced to trudge through the pouring rain all the way home after pushing my car to the side of the road. But he isn't my brother. He's my stepbrother. And he hates my guts.

I approach the driveway cautiously, holding my book bag above my head in a pointless attempt to shield myself from the storm.

We've lived on the same street all my life. Our house looks the same as every other generic two story house on our block, right down to the sky blue chipped paint job. The flower boxes are filled with weeds, the hedges are overgrown, and the windows are covered by ugly brown shutters.

It's home.

I force myself up the stone walkway leading to our front door. I have to figure out my best option. I know Mom isn't home, as usual, she's taking an early shift at the hospital that will eventually turn into a late shift, which will turn into an overnight. Adam on the other hand, he's definitely here, his black sedan sits in the driveway, mocking me.

The front door has rusty hinges, so there's no way I could sneak in without him hearing me. He sealed my window shut a long time ago so there's no climbing in that way.

Maybe I can drop all of my stuff by the door and dash upstairs. I'm pretty fast. If he catches me, it'll be much worse, but I decide to take my chances.

Taking a deep breath, I grip the doorknob, the metal dripping with raindrops.

Three. Two. One.

I'm running. I toss my book bag by the pile of shoes in front of the door and sprint down the hallway, my shoes squeaking against the tile floor as I try not to slip until I hit the carpet of the stairs. I'm almost to my room, the door sitting halfway open, welcoming me. I'm so close.

Until I'm falling. Icy fingers grip my ankle and my body flies forward, slamming my chest into the ground. I groan, rolling onto my back.

Adam looks just like his father. He has dirty blond hair that falls just below his ears, blending into his neck like a shoreline into the boardwalk. His jawline is square and almost sharp enough to cut me just as well as his belt does. His smile is sinister, resting on this lips that can fake any emotion, just like his frigid blue eyes.

He glares down at me, head cocked at an angle.

"You're getting slow, Melanie."

I don't respond. My whole body is tense, waiting for him to strike. I never know how he'll attack, or where the hit will land.

I don't see his sneaker ram into my rib cage until it's too late and I'm clutching my side and gasping for breath.

"Adam, please," I wheeze out.