Ok, so I wrote this when I was mad at my step dad because he accused me of something. And my anger kind of sprouted out this big bowl of fiction. I mean, there's a little truth behind it, but not very much. You can think what you want to think, so yeah. ENJOY
~~~Kajal Sandrilene
VERSUS MALCOM
I walked all around the school building, searching for her. She ran away just yesterday and I’ve looked everywhere except here. This is my last hope, and if I didn’t find her, I’m sure she ran away for good this time. Why did our stepfather have to always put his hands on Angeline? She was a good girl until he came into the picture.
Since I knew she wouldn’t be able to take the hurt and pain from Mom kicking Dad out and then immediately bringing another man into our lives, I kind of got used to her not being around so much. Angeline wasn’t home majority of the time, and Mom has stressed the fact that she has a problem with Angie doing that. Therefore, we tried to discuss her boyfriend’s abusive behavior, but she refuses to see the truth.
“The two of you are NOT going to continue to punish me for divorcing your father. It was my decision, and I would appreciate if you respect my ruling and Malcolm,” is what she said, purely in her man’s defense.
And what makes matters worse, even after Angie ran away, Mom still doesn’t believe that it’s not us that are the problem, it’s Malcolm!
“Angeline!” My voice echoed in the empty hallway. I couldn’t hear anything other than my own voice.
“Angie? Please come back, Angie, please.”
I still remember the moment she left. Everything is still fresh in my mind. The eventful night we’ve had:
I sat on my bed in utter silence. I just got into yet another argument with my step-father. But, it was more like me standing there looking at him while he yelled at me and cussed me out. It’s really horrible and humiliating, and I don’t think I will be able to stand it much longer. I didn’t want to just up and leave, like Angie did a few minutes before after he smacked her, but Malcolm is really taking me there. Every day, it’s always something!
So, that night, at dinner, Mom told me to go and get Angie, and I did. I knocked on her door for about five minutes before Mom came barging in. She swung the door open, and there was nothing left of her. Only an open window with the curtains flapping around, helplessly, in the cold night air.
Mom ran to call the police, and Malcolm immediately began to pass judgment on my sister, saying that she was a “damn fool” and she had nothing better to do with her life but make everything hard on everyone else.
“That bitch is nothing but a damn burden.”
As soon as the hateful words left his mouth, I struck it shut. Then words slithered from my throat, icy cold.
“Don’t you ever speak of my sister in that manner again, or you shall suffer intense consequences,” I hissed. Malcolm laughed, throwing his head back in amusement.
“You’re just like your pretty pea brained older sister: ignorant and bitchy. Why do you hateful little hags want to take her away from me?” He asked motioning towards the direction my mother had walked to leave the room.
“I am not a hag!” I screamed, throwing punches at him. Malcolm grabbed me by my neck and pushed me against the wall. He began touching me. His hands slithered down the length of my body. I scratched at him, not allowing him to get any joy out of making me pitiful.
