Devils Revenge

~Chapter Eighteen~

"Thank you. Thank you for helping me. It's nice to have another woman around," she said. I nodded.

"We need to cover for each other. I would assume you would've done the same for me," I said softly. She nodded. I left and headed back to my room. Silas was sitting there, bouncing his foot up and down. I kept my gaze on him before I went back into the bathroom. I managed to tame my hair and throw it up into a high ponytail.

"Mama...are you mad?" He questioned hesitantly. I looked at him though the mirror then shook my head.

"One: You gave a girl a hickey. Two: that girl has older brothers that will put you six feet under. Three: I tell you not to get attached to anyone because you know what happens-"

"But what if I want to have a relationship with someone-"

"The only person you will really have in your life is me. I'm the only person who is going to be there every step of the w-"

"I DON'T NEED YOU TO HOLD MY HAND. IM NOT A CHILD ANYMORE," he shouted. I walked out of the bathroom and he followed.

"But I am still your mother. Am I not?" I questioned. He rolled his eyes.

"What's with the attitude?" I asked. He scoffed.

"I CAN'T MAKE FRIENDS BECAUSE OF YOU. I CAN'T GO OUT BECAUSE OF YOU. I CAN'T DO ANYTHING BECAUSE OF YOU," he yelled. I let out a heavy breath and anger took over.

"THE ONLY REASON YOU CAN DO ANYTHING IS BECAUSE OF ME. BECAUSE I GOT YOU OUT OF THAT SHIT HOLE OF A HOME," I yelled back. He stared at me for a moment. From the corner of my eyes, I could see that the door to our room was open.

I cursed myself out and closed the door. I slid down the back of it and looked up at him. He hesitantly sat down next to me and brought his knees to his chest.

"I love you mama, but I want to live my life. I want to be a teenager," he mumbled. I stared straight forward. I didn't look at him nor did I talk.

He wants to live the life I never did.

He wants to live the life I never could.

"I get it," I whispered. I looked over at him. He was already looking at me.

"I get it sweetheart," I repeated. He leaned a little closer to me, putting his head on my shoulder.

"You'll always and forever be my favourite person, the only person that I'll truely rely on. But sometimes I want to just..."

"You want to live," I continued.

"I know. I want you to live your teenage years the way I couldn't," I muttered. We stayed silent for a few moments, enjoying each other's embrace.

"I'm sorry mama," he said softly. I turned to face him. He had a frown on his face and his eyes had met mine.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from them. I'm so-"

"Stop right there. I've told you a million times. It was never your fault," I said softly while putting my hand on his shoulder.

"But it was. I should've been there for you the way you were there for me. I shouldn't have let them do what-"

"Silas-"

"Let me finish. Please mama, just hear me out," he pleaded. I reluctantly nodded.

"I was four when dad left. You were eleven. The first time they entered the house was a year after they got a divorce," he started. He had crossed his legs and sat directly in front of me, playing with his fingers.

"The first time they ever hit us was halloween night. They locked us in the closet next to the vent that only produced heat," he muttered.

"And I remember crying. I remember them taking you away from me. I remember hearing you scream and cry. I remember hearing b-belts-