*this chapter contains abuse*

I blow the smoke, as I quickly inhale more of my cigarette, trying to make up for the time I spent without smoking. I'm leaning on the wall, and when I take another puff I glance at the night sky. I frown at it, remembering the nights when I and my brother used to watch stars with Stella.

Do I miss them? I want to hate them so fucking bad, and my mind can't decide whom of them to hate more, but I do miss those nights when we would be calmly watching the stars, while Stella would be kissing me, and my annoying brother would just sigh.

Before she came the two of us didn't really talk among ourselves nor spent some time together. Even after a year of Emily's death, he was still distant from me, trying to put a line between the two of us. The line I shouldn't have crossed. But I did. And I don't regret it.

I finish my cigarette, but I quickly take another one, lighting it, hoping that the guard won't see that I smoked two, because he promised me only one if I cleaned the bathroom.

That shit took me about an hour and a half because it was so fucking dirty and I have no idea how can someone even take shower in that much dirt. I wasn't really complaining when I was promised a cigarette, but now after nearly vomiting, I am. How can those bastards make such a mess in the bathroom? It's like they are fucking pissing and taking shit purposely out of the toilet. The hygienic paper is everywhere- in the toilet, in the sink, in the bathtub, not to mention the cigarette butts in every fucking corner. And the two of my tired arms had to clean all of that. My burning back, still remember each punch they had to suffer, had to squat down and reach for all the shit that had to be cleaned. And they still fucking hurt, because I have been beaten up, before cleaning. Yeah, cleaning the bathroom was my punishment, you fucking guessed it. Congratulations.

I whimper from pain, as I move my body from the wall and no matter how much I want to throw and trample the cigarette butt I know I'd earn even more wounds on my already bruised back, that is starting to get full of all of them, and I don't think that soon there will be any more space for the new ones. So, I don't throw the fucking butt, on the ground, thinking of how much the nightstick the guardians use on my back hurts.

"C'mon, Styles! Time is up! I already gave you more than five minutes!", a guardian growls at me, and I throw the butt in the bin, and follow him inside, bowing my head and not straightening my hurt back.

"Now, go to your fucking room! If I see you again stealing cigarettes I will punch you again, this time harder!", I shiver at the thought of those punches I received. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir!", I say sternly.

"Move your ass, now!", he orders and I scurry to my room. Or should I say room that is dirtier than the bathroom I spent hours cleaning.

I open the door and the scent of smoke immediately fills my nostrils. I start coughing, realizing that my allergics must have been awoken by all this dust, just like how it happens sometimes, how it used to happen when I was younger, weaker. The light coming from the bulb burns my eyes that were used to the darkness of the night. The night sky that reminded me of that girl that bonded me and my twin, but in the end, ended up separating us and making things even worse now.

I can only imagine how much my idiotic twin hates me, thinking how I made a mistake. Duh, I hate you, even more, I tell the voice that resembles his in my mind, scolding me as he always does. Did. At least here I don't need to listen to him telling me to be better, to stop making mistakes. Here I'm only beaten when I make one. Empathic on only.

"What the hell are you doing?", I half-whisper, half-shout.

"Chill, bro!", one of the guys says, blowing the smoke off his mouth.

"They literally made me clean the whole bathroom because they caught me stealing cigarettes!" I can't believe that these bastards are being able to do what I wanted, yet they caught me, but here they are free to smoke and not being beaten as I was.

"We don't fucking care! Okay, Christian chill!", the boy with black skin says. Fucking nigga!

"Stop, fucking calling me Christian! That's not my fucking name!", I snap, squeezing my fists, but they don't seem to react at all, speaking between themselves.

"At least we will have a clean bathroom now", the white boy, whose name is James, chuckles. "Right, Styles?"

"You guys shit like cows!"

"And does that bother you, Christian?", Daniel asks me, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing smoke from his full mouth that are too big for his fucking black face with brown eyes.

I swear to God if he calls me like that one more time...

"It does bother me!", I scream, angrily, and with that James jumps out of his bed on the ground, not using the ladder, since his bed is the higher one. He approaches me and whispers in my ear:

"I'm so sorry, Styles", he says, brushing my ear with his lips and I try not to shiver, squeezing my eyes and fists. "What can I do to make you forgive me?" He presses his body against mine, pinning me against the door, and I can hear a loud laugh coming from Daniel.

"Can I please you?" James touches my chest and tilts his idiotic head.

"Please, I would love to watch that!", Daniel's hysterical laugh makes my ears bleed.

No, not this again. When are they going to stop doing this to me? Probably once I'm gone. Only one month and a half. I keep counting each day, each hour, even each fucking second that to me feels like a million fucking years. I can handle them for a little longer. Then I'm going to come back and make everyone pay for what they did to me. Too many people have to pay me. And the first one is my brother, who owns me the most. He is number one on my revenge list.

I never really liked him anyway. He'd always have everything I wanted to. First, he was never chosen by our father to be beaten. It would always be me. I was always a sacrificed lamb. Every time he broke something accidentally because he was always so fucking clumsy, I paid the price. Whenever the would break alcohol of our father, again accidentally, I was beaten. Whenever he'd lost his toys and he had so fucking many, I had to go to find them, because he wouldn't stop crying over them, and again that would lead me to be punished with the weapon I hated the most and it was father's favorite- his brutal belt. Myles would always stand in the corner and watch me getting the punishment he actually deserved.

And that night, that night when the police arrested our father, Myles was nowhere to be found. That pussy went somewhere, found a place to hide, while I had to suffer and feel the belt on my back after each drink father would have. Drink after drink. I thought that he was going to pass out after some time. But, nope that didn't happen. He was really strong and even when he was drunk he could throw a pretty strong punch, maybe even stronger than when he was sober. Unlike me, who can't fight at all when I'm drunk.

I begged him, I winced in pain, I told him that I was going to do anything, just if he stopped punching me. But he answered me that he didn't want anything from me. He just wanted to punch someone. He wanted to punch everyone who had ruined his life. I was wondering how did I ruin his life and later I figured that out.

Our mother, our mother who was a whore, a fucking junkie, she left us, she got knocked up, accidentally (must be her from whom Myles inherited clumsiness). And why did she keep us, I have no freaking idea. And our father hated her for giving him kids when he had been hating her even before that. He never wanted to have kids, yet because of that bitch, he ended up with two ginger boys. And he considered us monsters who ruined his life. So he was punishing us. Mostly me. Why he specifically hated me so much I have no answer on the, either. And I'm never going to find out.

But I understand him. I understand him now, even when I was a ten-year-old boy I couldn't. I never understood how he could feel better after punching his children. But now I can. Now I have the same need. To punch, to slap, to torture everyone who ruined my life. And that was the reason why I hurt my brother that day.

When he started punching me and cursing me, which was really odd, since he doesn't even use basic abbreviations, yet profanities, it really pissed me off. Who is he to beat me? He wanted to act just like our father. He kept telling me that I hurt Stella and that was a mistake. I don't see that as a mistake. That was just what our father was doing to our mother while she was still with us.

I remember how I was sitting near the door of their room, and how he was making her scream. She was screaming almost every night and I got used to that, pretty fast. She was still with him every morning after the night she would spend screaming. That must have meant that she liked it. Why would she still be with him then?

One day when our father was tipsy, not so drunk, but not so sober either, he told me:

"Look, son, women are people who you have to educate. To slap and punch if you want them to obey you. If you let them do whatever they want to, then you are a sissy and you're gonna lose them. You have to keep them on your chain, just like dogs. Basically treat them like dogs and they are going to be grateful for that and they are gonna obey. Otherwise, they know they are going to be punished. "

"Is mom a dog?", I asked. "Is she like a puppy?"

"Your mom is a whore, but I manage to keep up with her. See, she is always with me and she always comes back to me because I'm the only one giving her food and taking care of her. You'll see, my son, that no woman can disobey you and they have to respect you, otherwise you are no man. "

"I understand", I told him, even though I couldn't really understand how women could be like dogs. But then I learned. And he was very right. When they disobey you, you slap them, then they listen to you and don't dare to disobey you again.

This was also one of the rare moments where he called me son, and talked nicely with me, without hurting me. But, I appreciate the advice he gave me because it helped me so much through this life.

So, the only one wrong here was Myles. Why did he even step in that fucking ring, when I had to fight with that bastard Michael, who tried to take my woman away? He ruined that for me, and he again tried to take something from me.

Something mine.

That happened with Emily, too.

I laid my eyes on Emily, ever since the moment we arrived at foster family. I was planning how to be with her, but the next thing I know is she talking and smiling at my fucking twin brother. She was blushing when he gave her flowers to match her floral dress. He even gave her a fucking crown of flowers, because she liked them so much. He put it on her long blonde hair that I wanted to pull so bad, so hard, to inhale its scent. But he took that from me.

He was always the first person to take something and I could never run faster than him. I could never win against him, nor reach the purpose, before he would already be taking the award, whatever it was. I was always so exhausted, breathing heavily while trying to after him, to manage to run in front of him, but failed every time as I would inhale the dust his shoes would be leaving while storming to take what was mine in the first place.

And now, when I was first who had Stella when she was finally becoming mine, Michael tried to take her from me, but I was sure that I could take care of that bastard, whose father kicked him out. No, that couldn't happen because my brother thought that raping was a bad thing to do. He tried to fight me, but no, he is exactly like our father. He blames me for everything. He just keeps telling me how wrong I am, every single time I do something. I could never be good to him. Never enough. Never right.

First Emily, then school, then gosh knows what, then I shouldn't have said that or I shouldn't have been drinking, or I should stop fighting cuz my God, my priest brother thinks that's illegal... And so on and so on. And so what if it is illegal? He always wants to play by rules, always to be a good guy, doing everything right. And he always blames me for being the bad boy, for getting tattoos, for fucking different girls every single night, for drinking, for doing drugs, for beating the members of Scott's gang whenever they do something wrong. Whatever I would do I was wrong. He was always perfect. And just when I thought I had everything in my life- I was the main in the gang, I could fire people, put in the gang everyone I wanted, or I could beat them whenever they would make a mistake because people have to be punished when they make a mistake...

That is what my father wanted to teach me, but I was so young and immature to understand it. Now I understand, and I don't blame him anymore for anything. But sometimes I was punished for the other's mistakes - my brother's. He was never punished, so I decide to punish him by stabbing that pocket knife I prepared for Michael, I stabbed it hard in his stomach. He deserved it.

... Just when I thought I had a girl when I started to live, I thought that I had found a woman who was going to obey me like my mom was doing with our father, my brother showed up at that ring, threatening me and scolding me how I was wrong once again. I don't understand how having someone who is going to respect you and do everything you want them to, is anything wrong?

She disobeyed me a few times, but in the end, she gave up and realized that she had to be a good girl and do whatever I asked her to. She was really good and I had her next to me, and I had only to think of her being with me and ask her, and she would do it. She was so fucking beautiful, her shiny body under her provocative clothes was mine to strip down, to throw on the ground, to even tear apart if I wanted to. And all of that underneath it was mine to touch. Mine.

And there he was wanting to take that all away from me. Just like he did with Emily. He told me that it was my fucking fault that blonde girl killed herself, but I don't think like that. It was because she couldn't be mine, because he kept intruding between us. He always wanted to tear us from each other, he kept telling her to stay away from me, that I was bad. He has always been doing this- telling everyone how bad I was, and how they should stay away from me. And, of course, he is the only one who is good and perfect, and every girl should be with him, and every boy should be only his friend. And I had to stay alone in the dark room, paying for my mistakes and getting punishments he somehow managed to avoid.

So, when I come back he is finally going to pay for all of his mistakes that I had to, instead of him. He is going to be punished and see who has to be a good boy, and don't mess with me. A bad boy. A wrong one. A bad brother. A villain.

He may hate me, he probably made that scenario in his twisted mind how Emily killed herself because of me. But let me tell you something, my little brother, I hate you for sending me here to the juvenile center, where I'm beaten, even though I'm not disobeying anyone. Even though I'm living by their rules, which, though are really strict. They also say that I'm bad and wrong, and I can't help but wonder when and if I'm ever going to be good to someone?

I have to be reminded of my father's punches and I have to bear the unbearable pain of punches that are never going to stop obviously. And even when they do stop, I can still feel the burning in my body, and my skin is ripped apart screaming loudly when no one can hear it, nor heal those wounds which were open since my childhood.

And every night I'm the one who is being raped because one of these guys is gay and he also happens to think that raping a girl is a sin, so he wants me to pay for that sin. How he knows what I was doing to Stella, don't ask me, I dunno. I wasn't raping her, never, no. I was only making love to her because I love her so fucking much. But what he doesn't know either, is that I paid for too many sins that weren't mine to pay. And he doesn't know that he is the second on my revenge list. Yeah, after I get out of this awful and torturing place I will make a plan on killing him. And he is going to pay for torturing me when indeed I wasn't the sinner, yet my brother was.

You may be asking who is the next on my revenge list? Well, it is going to be you if you don't shut up and obey me.

Let's see... The next one is going to be our precious blonde angel, who dyed her hair black and surprised me with her new slutty style on which I fell and which was quite a turn on for me. She may have been a good girl, but she also made a few mistakes that I haven't forgotten her. She kept going to that bastard's house, she tried to discover one of my boy's secrets and the least, but most important she told Myles that I raped her. And not only him, but Michael, too. She'd keep spreading it if I hadn't tied her that night and beat the shit out of her after we left Michael's house and after he didn't slap me back because he wanted to act fair. Motherfucker.

She kept crying, and I found that beautiful as her tears were mixed with the black inked mascara. She was telling me everything I wanted to hear. She told me that she was going to obey me, that she was never going to leave me, that she wouldn't come back to Michael, that she'd keep quiet, and not tell anyone that I raped her, because just like she said she liked me. Not that I made her say that, I believe that she actually thought that. That night was the best I had, apart from the night I spent with Emily. I couldn't choose between the two of them, but I just know that my brother wanted to have them both. And every day of me being locked here is a waste of time because I just know that he is trying to get her attached to him. To prove to her how bad I am, and how it is better if she was with him. But even if that stupid bitch falls for those lies I'm going to make her pay and rip them apart from each other, winning her for myself this time for real, not getting arrested and ending in this hole full of shit and garbage.

Just 45 days more. And one day is almost over. So only 44 to go.

I remember when I found her in her bedroom, punching the mirror, breaking it, and panting like a dog that was running for a long time. I tried to call her, but she wasn't responding to me and I had to slap her face, so she could come back to me and kiss me. I was once again using the advice my father gave me. It works every time. I not only remember how she kissed me, but how I pleaded with her to stay with me, not to leave me, like that whore of my mother did. That was the most vulnerable I had ever been with any woman, and she dared go to that Michael bastard after I plead her like that. I was so fucking pissed not only with her, but with myself because I let myself say something like that, and show her my weakness. No man shows weakness ever, let alone in front of a woman. I made that mistake once, and I made sure not to repeat it.

That is one of those few mistakes she made, that made me feel so disappointed in her. I felt that she was never going to leave me, just as she promised that day, yet almost the next one she was running into his embrace. But, good that I knew how to put her in the place. And that bastard who opened his arms for her. But I didn't know to put one person in place. My twin.

"Oh, and I love doing that." James pulls me by my shirt and gazes at my lips, still blowing the smoke through his nose.

"Open them", he orders.

"No! You bastard!", I yell at him, and he slaps me before I grab his hand and push him to the ground.

I can't let these idiots keep ruining my life or I'm going to end just like my father, with the woman who disobeys me and with two kids who are doing the same.

I open my mouth and the smoke caresses my lips, brushing them and entering my throat, tickling it. I try not to cough, as my lungs burn, along with my throat. I hate allergies and they just got better before since Scott's house was mainly clean with no dust at all. But here, goddammit here is not only the dust but damp as well, again my another allergy.

Oh, Scott that mother fucking idiot, I forgot about him. Yeah, I could include him, too. The twat beat me too many times, refreshing the not so distant memories of my father who was doing the same to me.

"Blow it, now." I do as I'm ordered. "Good boy", he praises me, but just when those words leave his mouth I spit into his gross and stupid face. With that he puts his elbow under my throat, choking me. I gasp for air as his hands wrap around my neck, squeezing it hard.

"Apologize!" His face is red and I can see anger boiling in his veins on his neck, which are pulsing.

Am I scared? No. I've already felt this type of pain before and I'm used to it. I was once close to death, but the person who was giving me the pain wasn't angry. No, he was happy and that was giving him satisfaction. And does this give this boy satisfaction? I'm not sure.

I just know that when I was close to death, when I could look at her eyes, which were black and scary, I wanted her to embrace me. I wanted to stop feeling that amount of pain, which was unbearable for the small and not strong back of mine, then when I was ten years old. Indeed, I didn't know that I wanted to die. I didn't even know that death existed. But, I knew that something or someone was about to come and end that torture I had been going through. And just when I thought that I couldn't take it anymore, just when my little and weak body collapsed, someone came to rescue me. I had no idea who that was. I just know that I felt someone's hand on mine. I heard someone's voice:

"It is over. I am sorry I did not manage to come earlier."

I couldn't see anything, I could only hear that unknown voice, whispering into my ear. Guess, that I'm never going to find out who that was. But, I'm sure that wasn't my brother. I know that little fucker hid somewhere and got out when he was sure that no one was going to punish him. He got out when it was safe. When I had already paid every single mistake he committed, and the ones he didn't.

So, maybe back then I wanted everything to be over, maybe I wanted to catch that black thing that was playing hide and seek with me while I was trying to find and catch it, but the moment I opened my eyes it vanished. But now... Now I want revenge for everyone. I made a list and no one who hurt me, who caused my pulse to quicken, isn't going to run from me. They are all going to pay.

Starting with this idiot.

My knee hits his weak spot, and he flinches, loosening the grip around my neck. I use that to attack him again, but my wrist is caught and stopped before I can punish this white gay. I turn my head back to see Daniel's eyes piercing mine.

"Don't you dare punch him, bastard!" He kicks me in the stomach, and I wince, falling on the ground, that seems to be the only one who wants to embrace me these days. I don't need a fucking hug. I don't need anyone. I can, and I will win, fighting for myself on my own, and escape from this cage, where these animals want to rip my body apart. But I'm unbreakable, no one can hurt me. Not even my dad managed and he was the strongest of them all. So if he couldn't, then how can they manage? No one. No one can hurt Christopher Styles.

James gets up and I see darkness behind his light blue eyes.

"Turn off the light, and close the windows", he orders Daniel, and quickly the switch is turned off and we are all left in the darkness, but still his ocean blue eyes which hold anger can be seen. His evil smirk can be seen, too, while his thin lips curl into one.

"Set."

"Let's start, shall we?" He tilts his head and Daniel passes him an ashtray with cigarettes, and before I can push them to scream, I feel a hand pressing my mouth.

"Shh, Christian. Shh, Styles. It won't hurt."

I wince and bite his hand, but he doesn't flinch. I bite it harder, making sure my teeth press in his skin deep, but nothing. Looks like someone is used to pain as well.

And while I'm shooting a death glare to Daniel, who is grinning at me, I suddenly startle and my legs are trying to kick James who has just pressed the cigarette butt on my not healed and open wounds.

"You like that, Styles? I bet you do. So, see this is what is going to happen if you disobey me again."

Again that word- disobey. I learned it when I was mere two. No, I'm not that child who first says, mom or mommy. No, I learned what disobey meant. It is the opposite of obeying. And you have to obey your keeper and you don't want to disobey and piss them off. Obeying means doing everything they ask from you. Even though you don't like it or don't want to do it. No one is asking if you are you willing to do it. You have to. And you will, otherwise your life can be hanging on the thin string, and any second that string can cut and your hurt body can fall on the ground, your head hitting the stone and you can be left to bleed to death.

"Understood, Christian?" Daniel removes his fucking hand from my mouth, and just when I want to scream, he punches me in my face, and my head hits the wall behind me. I feel giddy as the vision of two motherfuckers fucking with me starts becoming blurry.

"I want to put this", I can see the lighter dancing in front of my eyes that are starting to feel so heavy, "on the specific part of his body."

"Got it."

With that, I can feel my pants being pulled, and I don't even try to fight when my panties are removed, seeing dizziness calling me to play her game, and I run to it, I always loved to play, though I had troubles winning and that would always piss me off.

Then all I can feel is burning on my skin, just as my father's weapon used to burn me.

They all have weapons. My father had his signature black belt, which hurt my back way too many times that I could and even knew to count, James has cigarette butts and lighter, Myles has his mouth which says just bad things about me and how wrong I am. Stella also has her mouth that speaks how I raped her when all I did was make love to her, trying to show her that I respect her and that she should respect me, too.

And there I am, being burnt and trying to think of proper revenge, when in fact I'm powerless. I'm outnumbered and left with no weapon to protect myself.

My eyes widen in pain, and my body shivers not able to feel it again after all these years of constantly being beaten. Even when I escaped my father's punishments, Scott was next to punish me. Yeah, I forgot to add his name to the list. I may have been beaten by him, but nothing could ever compete with that day's pain.

I thought that I was the one who was powerful all these years. That is why I started fighting, illegal fights that my brother again tried to take from me, so I could hurt people and see them wincing in pain, just like I was when I had ten.

I could have the same satisfaction my father had. And now... Now, these assholes have it as well. But, I promise you, one day I'm going to come back and make all these people pay. With a double price. And that day is coming really soon. Just 44 more to survive. Just an infinite number of wounds. But I can do it.

First, my mother who gave birth to me. This is all her fault. If she had never given birth to me, I wouldn't have felt either of these.

Second, my father, who learned me how to treat women- like dogs not like puppies as my five year old self thought.

Third my brother who put me here and tried to take everything away from me since the day I was born. He was even probably born first, I don't know if he was, our beloved mother never told us, she said she didn't know. Fucking whore.

Fourth Stella. The bitch who told everyone how badly I treated her. When indeed she had to be fucking grateful. I treated her the exact way she treated me. With respect. But she lost my respect when she told my brother how I had been a bad boy. So she is going to pay, too. And I can't wait to feel her skin under my fingers, again. I can't wait to see her green eyes, her pupils dilated in fear, as I touch her body in the darkness.

Fifth Michael. Who tried to take my Stella away from me. Who beaten me in that school in front of everyone and wanted to do it again. I'm so sad that the knife which was originally prepared for him, couldn't stab his body, and then Stella's body would be mine forever.

Sixth James and Daniel. I don't have to explain why.

So I keep repeating this mantra, this revenge list of mine all over again, to keep myself awake and not let myself collapse from the amount of pain I'm feeling. I keep repeating to myself what I have to live for. Even if it's just for revenge. Even if it's just for the time I do revenge on everyone who hurt me, until I run over all the people whose names are on the list. Even if it's only for that, I'm living for it. For revenge.

NOTE: First mom, then dad, Stella... God, who would memorize all the people who are on Christopher's revenge list?

Anyway, I hope you don't mind this really long chapter, but I really wanted you to have a glimpse at his side of the story. I wanted to justify him, to show that he's not evil because he's evil, but because his idiotic father taught him wrong some things, and because he sees his twin as a competitor.

To be honest, I kinda feel like taking his side after this, lol he convinced me, and I'll be having a hard time trying to stop seeing the world as he sees it. Seems like sometimes when you are writing some characters, be them evil or not, you completely surrender to them and it's impossible to stop thinking like them. Though all of this again doesn't justify what he did to Stella and Emily, still I thought that it would be good to try to see things from his pov.

Enough of my rambling, tell me what do you think will happen when he gets out of the juvenile center? Will he really start doing revenge and how our Stella and Myles are going to escape their punishment?