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Designing, something Frederick never loved to do.
My mother never visited, and I’m not surprised, nor do I wish for her presence. All she does is argue in the hallways with Dad and Grandpa about them cutting off her credit cards.
She seems to hate all members of our dynasty sans Frederick and Uncle Bellamy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Frederick was his son or something.
Except we’re twins so it’s impossible for us to have different dads.
Dad occupied my evenings, sitting on the couch and watching me.
He was the one there if I woke up from the nightmare in sweat. Who helped me to the bathroom because I despise anyone else touching me.
Who combed my hair and changed me into different clothes.
Who read all my favorite books aloud.
The more he showed me his love, the guiltier I felt because all I wanted was to end this suffering, this constant state of doom. The dirt and darkness attached to me no water could wash away.
Every time I looked in the mirror, my reflection horrified me as the scars would always remind me about what they’d done to me.
The monsters who left their marks on me and in this announced to everyone I’m tarnished and broken.
Many nights when my father fell asleep from exhaustion for a few hours, I eyed the knife near the fruit table, and my fingers itched to touch it.
To feel its steel under my palm.
To see it draw blood.
Even now.
My eyes move to the knife, and I’m scared.
Scared I’d do something once I’m healthy enough and break my dad’s heart.
If I could talk to him, I’d say, I feel so dirty, Dad. So dirty, and I can feel the dirt consuming me until nothing but the desire to see my blood remains.
Because water can’t wash it away, but maybe blood can?
The only thing keeping me alive right now is my dad. Grandpa has him, but my dad has no one.
“I’m done listening to you all.” For the first time in weeks, I hear steel lacing my dad’s voice, and this makes me shift my attention to them. He wears a tracksuit instead of his usual clothes, and exhaustion along with anger reeks from him. “My son needs help, and all your advice has been useless.”
“Mr. Price—”
“Only blood relatives are allowed inside here, right? Well, that changes today. You can take it to the board who, by the way, owes me money.”
She frowns in confusion, and I blink as well, trying to understand what he means.
From Grandpa who loves to chat about everything, I found they made Frederick’s death public but not what happened to me. They just told everyone I was away in another country for the time being.
So all this has been a secret, and I was glad.
I didn’t want Santiago to come and see me like this.
Weak.
He deserves a better best friend, a friend that is not me.
I’m too dirty now.
