His Mission

Insane Step-Father.

I slowly turn the key inside the front door while ignoring the pounding of my heart. I haven't slept away from home since I was a little girl. I'm met with the usual silence of the house. I make a beeline for the stairs to head to my bedroom before I alert Mom or Trevor of my presence. When I'm halfway up the stairs, I hear Mom calling out to me from her bedroom. "Emily? Is that you?" Mom calls out.

"Yes, it's me. I'm jumping in the shower. I'll be out in a few minutes!" I call back to her. I dive into my bedroom before locking the door behind me. The door is growing weaker on the hinges from Trevor's constant beating against the wood. I strip off my clothes before hopping into the shower. I need to wash away the scent of alcohol and teenage partying.

Ten minutes later, I'm squeaky clean and smelling like sweet vanilla. I search through my wardrobe for a cute jumper and jeans to wear. Considering it's my birthday, I want to make an effort with my appearance. I blow dry my hair straight before applying a small amount of makeup. Even though I won't be celebrating today, I like to have my own version of a celebration. I reach into my bedside drawer to retrieve my birthday journal. It's a journal I've kept ever since my father died. I write to him on my birthday every year, filling him in on the most exciting parts of my life. It makes me feel connected to him.

It's the first time I write about my secret in the journal. I hate telling my father about Trevor's abuse, but I write about the hope I'm experiencing for the first time. I introduce my father to Jake and I tell him how he makes me feel. I write how my heart sings when I'm around him and I finish it off wondering what I'll be writing about next year. Will my life look the same? The sound of my phone ringing causes me to snap my journal shut. I slide it into my bedside drawer before answering the call. "Hey," I smile before dropping down on the bed.

"Hey. Can you meet me today? I need to talk to you." Jake tells me firmly. My smile slowly fades when I hear how serious he sounds. Is he going to talk to me about Trevor? I don't know if I want to spend my birthday talking about Trevor and his years of abuse. I release a soft sigh because I figure I won't be spending my birthday doing anything more exciting.

"Sure. Where do you want to meet?" I ask him. He asks to meet me at the park several minutes away from my house. I agree before ending the call. If I knew it wasn't about Trevor, I would label the meeting a date. Does meeting up with my crush to talk about my abusive step-father still count as a date? I doubt it. I grab my jacket before exiting my room. On the way downstairs, I hear Mom and Trevor talking in the kitchen. Do I make my presence known, or should I sneak out before they have a chance to spot me? I've been taking more risks lately and I'm afraid it's going to end badly. Before I can decide, the kitchen door swings open and Mom walks out into the hallway. Her eyes fill with surprise when she notices me.

"Oh, Emily. There you are. Happy birthday, honey." Mom says before giving me a tight smile. There's no birthday card, birthday hug or affection. There's no joy in her voice or birthday cake waiting for me in the kitchen.

"Thanks, Mom." I say quietly before dropping my gaze to the floor with disappointment. I remind myself I have another year to go before I'm officially an adult. I can spend my adult years doing whatever I want, and away from the people who cause me the most pain. Mom grabs her coat before pulling it on.

"I'm heading to the store for cigarettes. Do you want anything?" Mom asks me. I shake my head in protest, hating that she's leaving me home alone with Trevor. How can she walk out the door knowing her daughter is being left behind with a monster? Before she leaves, I call out to her in desperation.

"Is it okay if I go out for a walk?" I ask with a hopeful voice. Mom lingers in the doorway before her eyes flicker over in the direction of the kitchen. "Ask Trevor," Mom responds, knowing he's going to reject my request. She leaves the house before shutting the front door behind her. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach with disappointment. God, I hate her. I hate her with every fibre of my body. I contemplate heading back upstairs to my room, but I know Jake will be waiting for me at the park. I don't want to let him down. I take a step closer to the front door when Trevor appears in the hallway. He's holding a mug of coffee in his hands and he's dressed in sweats with a tight white vest filled with stains. He looks like the definition of a slob and I grimace at the sight of him. His dark eyes soak in the sight of me and he scowls.

"Are you going somewhere?" Trevor spits out in disgust. I squeeze my fingers into my palms while I come up with a lie on the spot. "Yes. I'm going to the library to study." I say carefully, hoping my response doesn't cause him to grow suspicious. The library is one of the only places I'm ever allowed to visit."Are you lying to me?" Trevor asks me in a chilly voice that causes my gut to swirl with uneasiness. I immediately shake my head. "No. I have exams at school and I need to study." I repeat firmly. Trevor's dark eyes slowly travel down my body.

"You're dressed like a whore. Who are you meeting?" He questions me further. I try to hide the disgust on my face, but my eyes burn with hatred for him. How does he find satisfaction in tearing me down? I could never imagine intentionally hurting someone. Trevor appears to thrive from seeing others consumed by pain.

"Nobody, I swear." My heart thuds away in my ears with fear. He takes several steps toward me, and I immediately back up away from him. "Where were you last night?" Trevor asks me with narrowed eyes. He lifts his coffee mug to his lips before taking a sip from it. His eyes never stop scrutinising me. "I had a sleepover with my friend," I whisper. Does he know I was at a party?

"What friend?" Trevor questions me. My hands begin trembling because I don't want to give him any details about Trish. I'd rather Trevor remain completely oblivious to her existence. She's my best friend, and I'll do anything to keep her safe. "Just a friend," I tell him. My answer immediately begins to infuriate him. Trevor is a man who thrives off control and my answer isn't satisfying his need. My breathing catches in the back of my throat when I hear him inhale a deep breath. He's preparing himself to unload on me and despite knowing it's coming, I'm never ready for it.

"Is it a boy? Are you fucking somebody?" Trevor accuses me with disgust sprawled across his face. My eyes grow wide at his question and I jump to my defence. "No! Don't be ridiculous!" I yell at him. Does he have any idea how inappropriate it is for him to ask me questions like this? To accuse me of sleeping around? Tears of anger prick the back of my eyes and I tear my eyes off him so he doesn't see the pain he's causing me.

"Just leave me alone," I whisper, hating the way my voice trembles and shakes. Trevor's jaw hardens and his eyes turn shades darker within a split second. He loathes when I stand up to him, so he doesn't react well to my response. Before I can jump out of his way, he throws his coffee mug at me. It hits the wall before shattering into pieces. The hot coffee splashes against me and I scream out with surprise.

"You make me sick. Look at you!" Trevor roars down at me with anger. He storms toward me before pushing me up against the wall. His hands grab a fistful of my jumper, and he leans in until his hot breath invades my senses. I claw at his hold in an attempt to get him to leave me alone. "Stop it!" I yell at him. Trevor bends down before grabbing hold of a shard of his broken coffee mug. My screams immediately silence when I notice the sharp point on the broken porcelain piece. My eyes grow wide with fear and I begin trembling against him. He sneers down at me with approval when he senses how scared I am.

"You're not so brave now, are you?" Trevor hisses at me. He tightens his hold on the sharp shard before pointing it at my throat. I release a whimper when I feel the cold touch my skin. "Stop it, Trevor. It's my birthday. Please don't do this today," I whisper while trying not to move. I can feel the pressure of the shard pressing into my skin. One wrong move, and he'll puncture my throat. Trevor shoves me harder into the wall before pressing the shard into my skin. I feel the point break skin, and a tiny trickle of blood runs down my neck. It's official...He's lost his sanity.

"Trevor! Please!" I scream with desperation. If he uses any more force, he's going to kill me. I don't feel any pain due to the adrenaline pumping through my body. His eyes grow ablaze with anger, and he tightens his hold on my jumper. I release a yelp of pain when he slams me back against the wall for a third time. "You can beg me all you want. I hated you the moment I laid eyes on you. You're definitely your father's daughter," Trevor hisses at me with repulsion. I stare straight into his dark eyes before responding with equal amounts of anger. "Don't you dare speak about my father," I hit back at him. He doesn't expect me to stand up against him, so I use the moment to my advantage. I shove him hard until he stumbles back from me. "You fucking bitch," Trevor roars at me.

I try to run upstairs, but he grabs hold of my ankle. He yanks me down until my body slams against the stairs. I scream out in protest before kicking at him. Trevor fights with me until the sound of the doorbell going off interrupts the moment. Trevor freezes before glancing between me and the door. He's faced with a decision. Is he going to let me go, or risk the person on the other side of the door hearing my scream for help?