I cared, I always cared, that was my problem.

Mae

Change.

Change was vital to my survival.

That was what I needed to do as my abusive father barged into our small house, booming my name. "WHERE IS SHE?!" I heard my father, Mitch, yell. I jumped up from my bed and ran to my closet so I could put on clothes with extra padding. Before I was able to change, my door slammed open, and I came into contact with the monster I longed to escape from.

"Stop!" My brother, Zachary, yelled as he rushed into my room. We've been by each other's side, been through thick and thin, seen and dealt with all of the horrors since the day we came into this world together. Only a few months until the big one-eight.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Mitch snapped, pushing Zach away. "Have some respect! Do I need to teach you some respect?" The strong hatred and fear in Zach's eyes made him look at the wood floor. His jaw ticked a few times as Mitch stared down at him. "Do you need another lesson?"

"No," Zach whispered. He was the only one there for me when our mom left us for the drugs. I guess I wasn't worth it. Why have your kids when you can use drugs at your disposal, right? At times I believed my father when he called me worthless. If I was worth something, anything, maybe she wouldn't have left us, maybe he wouldn't hit us. 

"I'll teach, Mae, then." Mitch turned to me. 

"I said fucking stop!" Zach grabbed his arm.

The back of Mitch's ginormous hand smacked Zach's face. The hatred in Zach's eyes intensified, and he pushed Mitch. I wanted to stop Zach before it got worse. I knew what he was doing. Zach often made Mitch furious so some of the heat could come off of me, but that only made the beatings worse for Zach.

I would try my hardest to not talk, cry, or scream; but, there were times when I couldn't hold it in, and I would beg, screaming and crying for mercy at the feet of a monster. That did little because that very monster would give me a sadistic smile and laugh while he threw punch after punch and kick after kick, relishing in the feeling and sound of my pain.

Mitch gripped onto the back of Zach's neck and dragged him to Zach's room. "Should I give you a sedative, or is that being too nice?" The sedative was to knock Zach unconscious, then, he would either beat Zach until he woke up, or Mitch would come after me first, and Zach couldn't stop him.

I turned around to my closet. Now was my chance to change before my beating started. A door slammed as I reached for my second hoodie, but before I pulled it on, a hand wrapped around my wrist.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mitch asked and wrapped my hair around his hand. I was never allowed to cut my hair for this exact reason; his very own personal leash. On my first attempt at cutting my hair, I ended in the hospital. The doctors thought I was in a car accident, and why wouldn't they believe the chief of police?

"Stop!" Zach screamed at the top of his lungs. It was unfortunate that we lived so far from neighbors. Mitch pulled me back by my hair and pushed me forward, making me stumbled.

The fighter instincts I gained from streetfighting withered away, scared of the monster before me. Paralysis consumed my body, and the fear shook me to my core. I was rendered useless. Correction: worthless. Please, I begged the paralysis to leave my body as I heard Zach whimpers. 

When I fought in the ring, it was different than it was now. When I fought, it wasn't fear that coursed through my body; it was anger. It wasn't shutting me down; it was fueling my fight.

I never lost a fight in the ring, but right now, I wasn't in the ring; I was in hell.

My very own personal hell.

"I ASKED...you a question!" Mitch said as he crouched down to me. His smelly, hot breath that smelled vaguely like sewer, made my face humid with every word he sneered. The way he looked at me with such anger, made me angry. But I was like a fire in an empty building. At this moment, the anger was only tearing me down.

"What are you doing to her!" Zach shouted, the sound of metal clanked after his voice. Mitch kicked me in my stomach and grabbed the collar of my shirt, bringing me to a standing position.

"You're hurting me," I mumbled in pain. He stopped in his tracks and turned to me.

"You think I give a shit about you?" His face turned into a snare. "I would laugh if you died!" He looked me in the eyes; the fire that started out of anger burned brighter. The way he spoke was calm and true. "Mae...I hate you." The way his cheeks cringed in anger when he said the word hate felt genuine. Mitch started dragging me, but I managed to take a few steps as he did. He pushed me into Zach's room. "It's still there...for now." He looked at Zach.

"Just leave her alone!" Tears fell from Zach's eyes as he shook his head. "Please."

"I'll give you something to cry about!" Mitch kicked my stomach, and my body turned, making me land on my stomach.

Fight back.

I can't.

You can't or you won't?! Learn the difference, Mae, and stop being a coward.

I couldn't: I was too scared. The saddest part about the whole situation was that I was actually the tiniest bit afraid that I would hurt Mitch. He put food on the table and a roof over our heads. He put clothes on our back, and whenever Zach needed new shoes because he had holes in his, Mitch would buy him a new pair.

I wasn't monster enough to hate Mitch, but I also wasn't naive enough to believe that he was a good guy. He wasn't a good guy, but he was our father. A parent we only knew.

When I lifted my head to look at Zach, I could tell he was tearing himself apart because he failed at protecting me. But I saw it like this: I'd rather take the beating because I knew I could handle it, both mentally and physically.

I knew I could take it.

No matter how damaged I got...or how painful it was, I'd always get back up. My main motivation was my brother. He didn't know how badly I was hurting, just that I was. So, I'd lie to him.

Was I ever hurting? No. But was I really? Yes.

Did it feel like I was going to die? No. But did it really? Of course, if only you could feel what I felt.

Did I want to die? No. But did I really? Of course. Death would be simple, painless, but only to me.

The handcuffs mocked Zach as he tugged on them for his freedom. "We have school tomorrow," Zach spoke, and Mitch kicked me once more. I wrapped my left arm around my stomach as I laid on my right side, internally groaning from the pain.

"Do you see any markings on her face, motherfucker?" Mitch sneered. "Should I make some? Maybe they'll make her look real pretty." He walked to me, lifted me by my shirt, and slapped me across the face.

I inhaled from my nose as the excruciating pain came with a delay. The stench of the metallic from my blood wafted through my nose, but no blood came.

"You're psychotic!" Zach tugged on his handcuffs, his wrists ringing with a red line. "This is the reason why mom left! Because of you, puta—" Mitch kicked Zach in his stomach. He was going to speak again until Mitch kicked his stomach once more, resulting in Zach to regurgitate his lunch.

"Stop," I groaned. When I moved, the tissues in my stomach ached as they stretched. Mitch turned to me, but Zach kicked Mitch's leg, making him stumble.

"Chinga tu madre!" Zach told him, bringing his knees up to his chest to block Mitch's blow. Our father took his knife out from the right pocket of his jeans and clutched onto it.

"You're worthless. A mom is supposed to love her child, not abandon it. You will never be loved," Mitch told him calmly, and Zach closed his eyes.

"Is that why I hear glass breaking at night, while her name is being shouted? Because it's not me who's doing that; it's you," Zach told him. "You will be never loved! You think a cochino like you is worthy of love?"

"Yeah, bitch? Let's see if you can play football with a broken arm," Mitch said, and Zach started to back into the brick wall.

FIGHT BACK, MAE!

The paralysis never left my body, even as my brain screamed at me to fight back. I just wanted it to stop! I wanted the suffering to end! I rushed Mitch, and kicked the back of his knee, making him fall to the ground where he dropped his knife.

"You bitch!" He shouted.

"You asshole!" I sneered, heat rushing from the inside of my chest, past my face, to the top of my head. My actions moved on their own accord, and I threw a punch. He caught it while getting up and twisted my arm back and pushed it upward, forcing me to turn my body. I winced in pain at the awkward position my arm was in,

"Should be we break your arm too, cabróna?" he spat. I heard a break, and Zach pushed Mitch away from me and punched him. None of the actions affected Mitch. "Is that all you got?" He pushed Zach, and Zach fell back, cracking the drywall in the process. I punched Mitch in his face, but I knew it didn't hurt because of how tall he was. His six-foot, six inches seemed like nothing in comparison to my five-foot, seven inches. 

He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, but with all of my strength, I pushed his chest, and he fell to the ground.

"Let's go," Zach said as he got up. As we rushed out, Zach stopped me a second before a knife flew past us and got stuck into the wall. Zach pulled the knife from the wall and clutched onto it as Mitch started getting up. Zach brought his arm back and threw the knife at Mitch's leg. We heard Mitch's scream as we ran out. I ran to my room to grab my car keys, hearing a door slam as I grabbed what I needed. "Hurry!"

We ran past Zach's bedroom door as it was opening, and Mitch's heavy footprints echoed in the house. We sprinted down the mile-long dirt road.

"Run faster," I told him as I ran a little ahead.

"I'm making sure you don't fall behind."

My car was parked a mile and a half away, and I hoped we made it there before Mitch got his hands on us. I looked back, and Mitch got into his truck. "Run faster." Zach ran faster, ahead of me, but I caught up with ease. The roaring of Mitch's beige truck roared after us. We pushed our legs as hard as we could, ran into the woods, and through the trees. We jumped over a tree log and looked back. Mitch was stopped before the tree. Maybe someone was looking out for us. Looking back, I saw Mitch carrying something black in his hands. A tree before me got shot with a dart. I pushed Zach to the left, to separate us, before I ducked and kept running. 

Mitch didn't care that we were his kids; he believed the pain he inflicted on us would make us stronger.

Once we were close to my car, we slowed our pace and caught our breath. When we got in, I turned the key in the ignition, and it roared to life. As we passed by the street that led to our house, I saw Mitch's truck come behind me, so I turned into a different street, trying to get away from him.

"Relax. He doesn't know it's you," Zach said. Mitch turned into the same street I did, and his car came closer. I accelerated but so did he. I looked at Zach, and he gulped. Mitch started tailgating me, so I increased my speed some more. He tipped the rear end of my car, and anger surged through me before he tipped my car again.

"He's FUCKIN' DEAD!" I sneered. "Lexi, activate!"

I created software, an A.I. A small feature it had was detecting cops whenever they were near. When cops were near, my car pings, allowing me to slow down if I was speeding; I've never gotten a ticket because of it. That part of my A.I. was more accurate, more advanced than other cop detectors. It also helped me get away from cop chases, amongst other things.

"Activated," she replied.

"Activate the switch," I said as I accelerated. Mitch did too; I hadn't the faintest idea how he knew this was my car.

"The switch is activated, would you like to continue?" Lexi asked.

"Yes."

"What is that?" Zach asked, eyeing me with suspicion. I drifted to the left and switched gears, so I was facing Mitch on the empty street as I drove in reverse. His engine exploded, and his car started swerving. I stopped and saw Mitch jumped out of his truck, and his car swerved to my left, crashing into a trash can. I put my car in drive and started heading towards Mitch. "Mae!"

"Don't!" I snapped, angry that he would try to stop me from giving us our rightful freedom.

"Lexi, stop the car!" Zach demanded, and my breaks locked in place, propelling my body forward as the car stopped. I grabbed Zach's collar because I was inches away from ending Mitch. Our freedom, closer than ever, now withered away, miles from us. "It wouldn't only be ending Mitch's life; it would be ending yours too!"

"So what?!" I snapped. "You shouldn't have done that!"

"What? You gonna hit me now too?" Zach asked as he looked down at my fist. "You're gonna be like dad now?!" I looked at my hand and pulled it away. I never snapped at Zach, not since the last time I did, and that ended badly.

"I'm sorry." That was something I genetically received from Mitch, and I hated it. My anger was something I couldn't control; I didn't get mad often, but when I did, it was pretty bad. I said things that were meant to hurt, that were hard to forgive, and I hated it. It was one of my most toxic traits.

"Let's go. The neighbors are coming out," Zach said. I reversed and drove off. "We should get some school supplies. An escape could help too."

Fortunately, there was school tomorrow. It was our last year, then I'd able to get away with Zach; he said he'd follow me to the same college. I tried hard in school, and it paid off because I was at the top of my class. It's been that way for all of my three years. I actually liked going; I got out of the house, learned something I didn't know the day before. The escape was the real winner.

Zach was one of the best players on the football team, and with my help on his academics, he received good grades. I didn't mind helping him. I'd do anything for him, and he'd do anything for me.

I nodded, and he smiled. I'd always been jealous of his smile because he had our mother's smile. Even if she did leave us, she was still my mother, and a part of me still missed her.

"Arrival's estimation is ten minutes," Lexi said. It was a good thing that I had money from my jobs. It meant I could buy Zach and me the things we wanted.

Despite being a well-known streetfighter, never having lost a fight, no one knew who I was. The only thing they did know was my alias: Nobody. I was rather popular for being a nobody. The irony was, once they saw me fight and win, they knew I was somebody. Maybe I should have put my alias as Nothing: sounds appropriate. 

The people at the fights usually grew irritated that they couldn't see my face behind the hood or never heard me speak, so they would try and force my hoodie off or provoke a conversation with me to which the guy I fought for, Razor or his friend Billy, had to speak for me.

I deactivated Lexi and sped down the street. Despite being angry earlier, a smile appeared on my face as the adrenaline rushed through my body. I truly felt comfortable driving fast.

The light to turn left was green, so I kept driving, but I stomped on my brakes when a vibrant, green car crossed their red light. I extended my arm in front of Zach and pushed against his propelling body to protect him from injuring himself.

"Just because your car is green, does not mean your light is!" Zach shouted.

"Put your seat belt on." I started driving again and turned left. I could see the green car still driving down the street, but I lost it in the sea of cars.

My car pinged, so I brought it to the speed limit and drove at a steady pace. I stopped at another light, and a cop was waiting for traffic to clear out until he was able to turn right. I sped away, knowing that the cop was long gone.

The mall was at its usual capacity, which meant I had a hard time finding parking. Pulling down my mirror, dried blood crusted on my lips, the small, purple bruise settling in. I reached for my glove compartment and took out the wet wipes. We both cleaned our faces, and I reached in the back seat and grabbed my hoodie along with my sweatpants before changing.

Zach grabbed his duffle bag too before changing his shirt. Handing him another wet napkin, he cleaned the blood off of his abdomen.

"I gave some packs away," he said, and we both laughed.

I wished he would have always stayed happy.

My stomach growled, and Zach laughed. He looked at me while raising an eyebrow, and I nodded my head, knowing he meant to eat first.

The muscles in my stomach tinged in pain when I got off of the car. I avoided the damage that may have been on my car as we walked toward the mall. After grabbing some pizza, we found a seat next to a group of girls, who were chatting and laughing, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop.

Yeah, something else you couldn't help with.

"I hear he's coming back."

"Who?"

"The one and only Damien King."

"No way!"

"Way!" The girls started squealing, and I cringed at the sound. I took my phone out and texted Zach.

Just text. My arms are too sore to be moving -M

my thumbs are 2 sore 2 b txting -Z

Who's Damion King? -M

u dont remember him -Z

I wouldn't be asking if I did. -M

I looked up and glared at him while raising my right eyebrow. He continued to text.

fine chill! he came here freshman year but he moved away he used to be 'the towns bad boy' -Z

I almost laughed.

"Towns bad boy"? -M

I looked up and gave him a teasing smile.

hey! its not what I called him its what those girls called him -Z

Sure. -M

Mae! -Z

Is that all you know about him? -M

umm... he also has 2 best friends bennett sol and ryder lynch -Z

Why text 'umm...' what's the point when we're texting? -M

to show that I was thinking. umm... obviously -Z

Umm...it's annoying because umm...it is. You see? -M

He looked up at me and started blinking. I smiled at the annoyance I was causing my brother.

I've had Bennett and Ryder in some of my classes. They're...alright guys, but I can't quite remember Damion -M

sounds like a u problem -Z

Sometimes, I really don't know what to do about him.

jk :) -Z

Let's just eat, and I'll treat you to something around the mall. No arguing! Okay?! -M

okay :( -Z

:) -M

:) -Z

You're bipolar you know that? -M

hey! thats just mean! :( -Z

:) -Z

:( -Z

:) -Z

:( -Z

I put my phone down and kept eating, but it felt like someone was watching me. I saw no one when I looked up, so I continued eating. I hated the feeling of someone staring at me. Especially when I was eating.

We went to a couple of stores, but I just bought some hoodies and long sleeves. There were these dresses I couldn't stop staring at, so I decided to try them on. They were the same design, but one was black while the other was white. They went to my mid-thigh, and for once, I felt pretty, but it stopped when I felt someone watching me.

My body stiffened, and I turned around. Walking toward the exit, I stopped halfway, remembering I was still in the dress. After changing back, I bought the dresses and walked out. Anxiety flourished in my chest, spreading up my neck and heating my cheeks as the feeling of being watched lingered. No one in the mall was looking at me, but the feeling wasn't going away.

I wanna go home. I feel like someone's watching me. -M

do u think its Mitch?! -Z

I don't know. -M

okay im on my way -Z

u're still at the same store right? -Z

Yeah. -M

I saw someone running out of the corner of my eye, so I turned to look and saw Zach next to me in a second. The anxiety lessened and was replaced with relief.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Let's go home. We did enough shopping today."

I felt someone following us, so I picked up the pace and unlocked my car before getting in. I reversed, looking to see if there was anyone but saw no one, so I quickly drove out of the parking lot. As I was driving, I looked out of my side mirror and saw a figure, but I was too far away to make out who it was.

I parked in a different spot this time because Mitch knew how my car looked like. This time, when we walked to our house, we walked on a different route.

"I hope he's not home," I said, and Zach nodded. The thing about Mitch was when we got home, he wouldn't hit us. It was like he exploded when he was triggered, and then, when he was cooled off, he wouldn't hit us. He didn't always hit us; it was just when he did, it was bad.

We got home and luckily Mitch wasn't home.

"I wish we could just go to the cops," Zach said, and I forced a laugh.

"Yeah. We'd just be going straight to him," I said, and he gave a sad nod. Mitch was one crooked ass cop. Actually, the whole system was crooked.

**********************************************
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter, and the rest of them as well.

If you're a rereader and you want to put a spoiler, think again.

If you think you know what's going to happen, think again. I'm rewriting this story, so anything is up for grabs. I can change anything, end anything, start anything.

You should be afraid, rereaders. You should be very afraid. 

Ha! Enough trying to scare you (with the truth of course) but if you're a Re-reader or if you read my story more than once—thank you so much by the way—you might have noticed that the chapters have changed. As mentioned above, I have rewritten and added some things, but I hope you still enjoy it.

Feel free to comment and vote! ❤️

What's the weirdest word you've heard or seen?

{For some reason mine is 'Confusion'.}