| 48 |

| 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐞 |

"You know I would've believed you if you just told me you were pregnant."

I stop a groan from escaping my mouth.

"I'm not pregnant. I really am dating Castle."

Sean stares at me, clearly waiting for me to say something like 'sike' or burst into laughter at my failure of pranking him.

When I don't say anything for a long moment, his face falters.

"Wait—seriously?" He frowns in shock.

I nod.

He lifts his head off my lap, sitting in front of me.

"You're fucking with me." He demands.

I shake my head, "Nope."

He's still staring at my face, trying to figure out whether I'm really serious or not.

"Stop lying. I'm honestly surprised you could come up with such a shit prank."

"It's not a prank!" I grumble.

"I don't fucking believe you."

I sigh, closing my eyes and looking heavenward.

"I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I really am dating Castle."

"You have no idea how fucking wrong that sentence sounds."

"Would you just believe it already?" I hiss.

"Which part should I believe first?" He snaps. "The part where you're dating? The part where you turn down sex for a sick prank about you dating? The part where you're telling me you're dating a loser instead of some athletic—"

"He's not a loser!" I growl.

Sean blinks at me, taken aback.

He remains speechless.

Then...

A storm passes over his face. His face turns cold as anger fills his eyes. "I knew it." He growls. "I so fucking knew it!"

I grow wary of his anger. "Knew what?"

"He is taking you away from me! I knew it!"

Oh shit.

"Sean, that's not—"

He grabs my arms, harshly, giving me a shake. "Can't you fucking see, Holly? First, he comes in and takes two hours of your life "tutoring" you. Then he's practically changing you! You stopped giving me time because you're always with him! You first hesitated to fuck me and now you're saying you won't fuck me at all!" Sean spits in rage, his face in my face. "Next he's gonna say to stop hanging out with me and you probably will do that too!"

"I won't do that!" I argue. "Hanging out with you and fucking you are completely different things."

He gives an exasperated noise as if I'm being a dumbass. "Holly, you know the only reason why we fuck. It's nothing romantic or with that emotions bullshit."

"So what are you saying? That I still fuck you while being with Castle?"

"Why are you even with him?" He frowns at me. "I thought you didn't do relationships. I thought you didn't like being trapped, but you're fucking committed to him!"

"I'm not trapped." I snap. "I feel far from trapped when I'm with Castle."

A laugh erupts from his mouth. A mocking laugh. "Look at you fucking talk." He shakes his head at me. "Do you know how ridiculously fucking stupid you sound?"

"Maybe you should stop using my body as your escape and actually get some fucking help!"

Sean's hands rip from my arms as if I've burned him. A look of hurt masks his face and I immediately realize my mistake.

He moves to get out the bed.

"No, Sean!" I grab his arm to stop him. "It came out of nowhere."

I can feel the anger radiating off him and I have to act quickly to dissipate it. God knows what he'll do to himself if he leaves my room angry. Right now, he's a ticking bomb.

"Please don't be angry." I tighten my grip around his arm.

He turns his head to look at me.

"What the hell did you see in him?"

Words jumble on my tongue. How do I explain everything about Castle to him in one moment without making him angrier?

Sean takes my silence as an answer and scoffs. "When you realize the mistake you made, trapping yourself with him, I'll be waiting to laugh at your humiliation of thinking that someone like you could ever think of actually having a fucking relationship."

His words hit straight into my chest, piercing my heart.

My grip loosens on him.

He yanks his arm out of my hands, giving me a hateful look.

I know I shouldn't take his words seriously. He's angry and doesn't understand what Castle and I really are. Yet...

The hurt I feel in my chest...I never thought those type of words would ever hurt me.

Maybe it hurts because it's coming from Sean.

The hurt lasts for five seconds before bitter resentment fills me.

"Get out." I snap.

He rolls his eyes. "Now you're being a bitch."

My eyes blaze as I glare at him. "You have no fucking right to talk to me like that. Get. Out."

He stares at me, silently asking if I'm actually being serious.

Oh, I'm so fucking serious.

"See, now you're getting angry at me over some fucking hormonal crush."

"I said get out!"

We're both glaring at each other, our eyes no doubt filled with so much hate and anger that was never there for each other before in our entire lives.

Sean's the first to break eye contact, scoffing. "Whatever."

He gets off my bed and storms towards my window, pulling himself outside and disappearing into the night.

I'm left alone in my bed, angry. And sad.

A growl rips from my throat and I punch the wall beside me.

Immediate pain flares from my knuckles but I ignore it.

Sean doesn't know a fucking thing about Castle.

It's my life.

I decide who I want to be with and what I want to do with it.

No one has the fucking authority to tell me otherwise.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

| 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐗𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄 |

I wish I had the ability to teleport.

That way I don't have to face this moment.

My father sits in front of me, drinking wine from his bottle as if he's at his own luxurious house along with his perfect rich wife with their spoiled son, Ethan.

His eyes are roaming around the living room, assessing the place.

He tilts his head, one ankle resting above the other knee as he takes another sip of his wine.

"I'm surprised this place is still holding up." His deep, gravelly voice makes me want to flinch, but I don't.

I remain perfectly still, seated in front of him, although my eyes probably betray everything I'm feeling.

Fear. Apprehension. Anger. Hate.

His perfect immaculate clothes and sober self flares a wave of anger in me.

The last time I remember, he was never sober, and his clothes always smelled of sweat and alcohol.

I'm so glad Mom decided to go to sleep early. I don't want her to meet him ever again.

He turns his eyes on me, snapping me back to attention.

"You've grown so much." He notes. "Last time I saw you, you barely reached my shoulder."

Now he's an inch or so shorter than me.

I say nothing to him.

This is the first time I'm seeing him after two years.

Two whole fucking years.

Questions bombard my mind.

Why is he here?

What does he want?

How long is he gonna stay?

But I remain quiet.

Looking at him brings back harsh memories from the past. The memories feel so vivid as if I can reach out and touch them, feel them all over again. The skin of my back aches and my knees turn weak, as every moment comes back to me.

"Your mother looks so pretty when she sleeps."

My gaze sharpens in an instant.

What did he just say?

I stare at him. His eyes look softer now, mentioning Mom.

He notes my incredulous stare. "I was with her for a while, while you were out."

My blood runs cold.

He entered the house on his own.

He was in the same room as Mom with no one else around.

He stared at her while she was asleep.

Another round of fear lapses through me. I fist my hands to hide the slight tremors.

Father remains quiet for a while before he speaks again. "How much longer does she have?"

My lips seal shut, for two reasons. One, I don't want to tell him. He doesn't deserve to know or even ask about it after all that shit he put her through. Two, there's a fear in me. Fear of admitting it out loud. That she's going to—she's going to leave me.

"Have you lost your voice?" He snaps. This time, I flinch. "How many days does she have?"

"A few months." I grit out.

Satisfied with my answer, he leans back in his chair, getting lost in thought.

At that moment, I hate myself.

Hate myself for being so weak.

For being so easily affected by his tone.

For not being able to man up and push him out of this house and threaten him to never step foot here ever again.

"After that?" He asks.

I raise an eyebrow at him, in confusion, not knowing what he's asking.

"After that, where will you go?" He nods in the direction of Mom's room. "You're in her custody, but after she dies, where will you go?"

I stare at him with a mixture of anger and shock.

He waves me off. "Don't look at me like that. There's no point in not addressing her death. Plus, you have to think of your future, don't you? If she dies, you can't live in this house anymore," he says. "Not until you're eighteen and it's under your name."

Well, if you're so concerned about me, why don't you take me in with you to your rich fancy house?

Those words barely stop from spouting out my mouth.

This shows how much time I spend with Holly. Fuck you, Holly.

"Answer me, Goddamnit." He demands.

I wince. "I'll manage."

"Manage?" He raises his eyebrows. "How, exactly?"

I remain silent.

I'm not completely clueless as to what to do with my future. I have a plan. Sort of plan. With the new job that Holly's dad gave me, I'm making enough money to survive and also save some for the future.

Even if those savings aren't much, I still have something.

"Always the weak one." He shakes his head at me. "At this rate, you're better off practicing being homeless or dumped on some street. You'll have to sell off that dog you brought home from the streets. Considering his manners, no one will buy him though. Just bury him in some hole then."

It takes me a moment to get what he's trying to say.

I don't even realize the anger in my voice when I let out a "What?"

"Truth hurts." He shrugs.

"I'm not burying William!" I nearly shout. There's a slight hint of panic in my voice too as if William is being buried somewhere right now.

"Don't be ridiculous. You can't take care of yourself and a dog together. It was going to die all those years back before you picked it off. What's the difference now?"

"William doesn't concern you." Disgust fills me at his thoughts. So much disgust that the urge to throw up takes over me.

"William. William. William. You talk as if he's a person and not a fucking animal." Father looks weary, disappointed even.

I give him a determined, hard look.

"I'm only saying that for your own convenience." He states.

Maybe I shouldn't be hanging out with Holly a lot. Her influence on me might not be the best thing about us. Maybe I should set a time limit for how much time I spend with her. Because the next thing I know, I'm leaning ahead in my chair and snapping.

"If you're talking about my convenience, then you shouldn't have stepped foot in this house!"

The moment the words get out of my mouth, I instantly regret it. Father's eyes flash with anger and my body freezes.

"How dare you speak to me like that?" He stands up from the couch.

He marches over to me, and I recoil, trying to shrink away from him. trying not to scream out in panic. Pain flares through various parts of my body but he doesn't even touch me. Yet.

You stupid idiot fool. He's going to slap you now. He's going to grab another cigarette and burn you with it. He's going to push you to the floor and ram his foot down on your mouth.

He stands over me, his hand grabbing the front of my hoodie. He pulls me until I'm looking directly into his angry eyes.

"Don't you dare forget that the only reason you're even spending these precious days with your mom is because I'm paying half her medical bills."

I force myself not to cower away. I force myself to not show any sign of fear. I force my hands to stop shaking.

But nothing works.

He sees right through me.

He sees everything.

And it makes him satisfied.

I'm pathetic.

I'm weak.

I hate myself.

I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. The words keep repeating in my head.

"I was considering changing Clarice's mind about taking you in, but after that tone of voice of yours, it's better off if you remained homeless." He grits out, angrily.

Clarice, his rich wife. His super-rich wife who agreed to marry this man only because she wanted me.

No one knows that about her.

No one except me.

My father thinks Clarice chose him when instead it was me who she chose. Disgust paints bitterness and repulsiveness in me.

At first, it wasn't obvious what she was trying to do. Normally, it was the frequent casual touches. Her hand stroking my arm, her fingers combing through my hair. The constant "friendly" hugs. Later, it all dawned upon me when she tried to get me alone in a room with her.

She was thirty-six.

I was fifteen.

I've always kept that to myself, not wanting to create another set of problems when everything else in my life was rocky.

Even if my father demanded of me, I would never step foot into a house that Clarice owns.

I don't tell him any of that though.

He finally lets go of my hoodie, stepping back.

I stare at him from my chair, waiting.

Waiting for a slap. A punch. Maybe he might smash the wine bottle he's holding on my head.

But he doesn't do anything, which shows he's still not drunk.

He nods at me. "I came to check on you after Ethan told me about how he saw you at the park. I nearly forgot about you, until he reminded me that you..."

I'm pretty sure he was going to say existed.

"This visit was pointless." He remarks. "I'll be taking my leave now."

A moment of relief passes through me.

He stares at me for a while before looking around the living room once more.

I wonder when he looks around if he remembers what kind of a monster he was. In this very house. I don't think he remembers after all that alcohol he drank every hour.

He gives me another nod, moving back and walking towards the door.

It feels like an eternity as he walks out and shuts the door behind him.

The moment I'm all alone, an earthquake takes over.

I fall off the chair, my body sinking to the floor. I'm shaking so hard. My hand squeezes my mouth shut. Muffled screams leak through my fingers. My stomach clenches and I nearly throw up.

I hate myself.

I hate myself so much.

So fucking much.

I'm pathetic. So pathetic.

My father should've just killed me all those years back.

Why didn't he?

Every scar, every mark burns on my body as I remember how he broke me. Of the ways he tortured or beat the shit out of me, not caring if it left burns, marks or bloody wounds.

Mom's going to die.

I'm going to lose this house.

I hate to admit it but he was right. If I can't provide for myself, how can I take care of William? How will I give William the life he deserves?

Will I really have to give him up?

Another scream climbs up my throat and I try to swallow it down. Tears burn my eyes as I lay curled and shaking on the cold floor.

I'm pathetic.

I'm pitiful.

I'm weak.

I should've died all those years ago. I should've died when he bruised, bled and burned me. He sometimes starved me five days in a row. When he was pissed, he held my head underwater, making me thrash until I fainted. When I accidentally broke a glass, he threw my seven-year-old body onto the glass pieces.

Mom couldn't have done anything. She was already showing symptoms of sickness. She was terrified of him no matter how hard she tried to hide it. She was lost, not knowing how a once loving and caring man turned into a monster before her very eyes.

Tears leak from my eyes despite how tight I shut them. Just when I feel like I might throw up any moment, my phone in my back pocket vibrates with a text.

I almost ignore the text, not wanting to deal with anything new. But something has my hand reaching into my pocket and pulling it out.

My hands tremble violently as I read the text.

Satan: this night just turned out to be the shittiest night

Satan: if you don't want me to pick your door's lock, you better keep it open for me

Wait what?

She's coming over?

I can't deal with her right now.

I decide to ignore her. To ignore everything. Just shut the world and go to sleep. Sleep is nice. Sleep is safe. Sleep is where you welcome the harm unknowingly and disappear peacefully.

My finger hovers over the shut-off button when another thought flicks through my mind—She's safe. She's relief. She makes the pain go away.

My senses return to me, thinking of her voice, her jabs, her taunts. She's peace. She's reassurance. She's my comfort from the pain.

Warmth returns to my cold chest, the thought of her soothing the broken parts within me.

When I think about it, she's the only person that I want to be close to right now. Her voice is the only voice I want to hear. Her smile can lull the pain. Her words make me want to accept myself.

Right when that thought crosses me, I wish she was here right now. I want her beside me. I want to hear her voice. I want her to annoy me so I can snap at her because for some reason I like when we do that.

Me: aren't you a hardworking independent girl?

Me: the door remains locked

Me: climb the window

★・・・・・・★

I'm not sure if you people could tell but that was Castle close to having a panic attack.

Not everyone is strong or brave enough to face their problems and handle them. I wanted to write someone who's confused and helpless. I want to write someone who slowly learns to build a backbone instead of being hella smart or strong from the beginning.

There are a lot of people who go through problems but they're too afraid to voice it out. They're too scared to acknowledge it or do something about it. It's not their fault. Certain childhood events or memories can stripe a person from his self-worth and self-esteem. Some people endure pain and torture because they think they deserve it. And those events mess them up for life.

ANYWAYS, How was this chapter???

I've got a little bit of a long weekend so the next update will be within 1-3 days!

Words: 3,100

Date of publishing: 12th May 2023