Truth or Dare

Hurtful words and thank you's

Lydia

More months pasted. I could feel who I was slowly slipping away as Brando tried to control me more and more. He pushed me more, trying to get me to do things I didn't want to do and getting mad when I refused to. Hurtful words quickly turned to violence and insults combined, getting me to feel bad about everything I did. I was living in hell, and I didn't do a thing about it.

The worst part of it was I believed that I deserved this. I believed that this was all I was worth, so I held on to it as tightly as I could. I was so dependent on Brando that I took every beating, every cruel word and insult hurled at me I believed. I made excuses and yelled and screamed at my friends and family when they would even think to doubt my relationship with him.

It had long gotten past the point where my dad and brother didn't buy it anymore. But my dad accepted my stories anyway because he knew that a lot of crying and scream would result in fighting me. Charlie just stood silently, then wait to get me in position where I couldn't scream and cry and fight him without making a fool of myself. They both had their little tactics to try to talk to me while trying to keep me calm, the last thing either of them wanted was a emotionally unstable and pissed off teenage girl who happened to be a national MMA champion.

This particular night I walked in the door with a bleeding nose and fat lip. Charlie was the first one to see me, looking me up and down with his eyes bulging out of his head. "Please, don't say anything. It's been a rough night."

"Come here," he said, holding out his arms in a very un-Charlie like manner. It took me a second to get he wanted to hug me. I didn't question it, and quickly took his embrace. "Did he make you walk home again?"

"Please don't make me talk about it," I whispered, trying to fight back tears. He must have known things were getting serious if he was hugging me. He only did that when he knew I was scared.

"It might help. You need to talk to someone," Charlie insisted, letting go of me and taking my bag. "Come on, kitchen and pizza. Dads working again tonight, just you and me."

"Thanks," I muttered, following him to the kitchen and sitting down, rubbing my swollen ankle. Charlie looked at me and sighed, grabbing a icepack out of the freezer and throwing it to me.

"Don't tell me some bullshit about you getting that in sparring. You haven't gone to a sparring practice or archery training in over two weeks. You know Mula called today concerned about you? He said you hadn't been showing up, and when he asked Hayley about it she said your boyfriend was keeping you from practice. He's worried about you, so are the rest of us."

"Congratulations on finally showing it," I snapped. "The sad part is you have to get a call from my coach to actually express that worry."

"Don't make this about me Lydia," Charlie warned. "This isn't a laughing matter. You need to grow up and-"

"Oh, I need to grow up? Do you know how much it sucks to have a brother who won't stop yelling at you to be a freaking adult when you're probably going through something most adults never have to live through? News flash Charlie, I am grown up. I'm more of an adult then any job or getting a license could make me."

"Lyd, that's not what I meant."

"Well tell me when you know what you mean," I grabbed my icepack off my ankle and limped out of the kitchen toward my room.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To be by myself. I like it better anyway!" I yelled back at him, slamming my door and flopping on my bed. "Ow." I muttered to myself.

Nothing was worse than feeling so alone. The physical pain was nothing compared to the loneliness pressing down on me from all sides. It was crushing me, like I was drowning but there was no water and no matter how much I screamed or flailed my arms no one noticed me slowly dying.