tw: sexual assault, self-harm, eating disorder, panic attack, emotional abuse
CURRENTLY, I was sat inside my car, the window on my side half-down, in front of the grocery store. I sipped on the half-empty frappe I got on my way here and waited for him to show up. Surely, he wouldn't stand me up when he'd urgently texted me twenty minutes prior.
When he hit me up, I was half way to my work, but I called in sick to Mrs. Kenneth and came straight here.
Despite the steady rhythm of rain pattering down my windshield and the moist fogging up all the windows, sweat dampened at the back of my neck, searching his face among the peers entering and leaving the store.
I even scanned the pavement that led to the main road, hoping I'd catch a glimpse of him. It'd been thirty minutes already. He's nowhere to be found. My phone beeped on my lap as he texted me again.
C: I'm here.
My gaze ran across the park lot, eyeing to see him but only the sight of a new car coming to park two paces away from me and an elderly couple rushing to their car to avoid heavier rainfall.
Sara: I don't see you.
He didn't respond to that. I exhaled and leaned back into my seat, my anxiety level rising. He better had not changed his mind and went to wherever his mind steered to.
A delayed beat later, a rapt knock coming from behind startled me. And I looked behind to see a pair of mischievous hazel eyes and a matching bright smile on his face, his palms planted on the window of the backseat clearing the misty screen.
I unlocked the doors and let him slide in the passenger seat.
"Jesus, you scared me, Cole," I rolled my eyes at him just as he comfortably sat with his feet up on the dashboard.
"Aw, man, you always love surprises," Cole said, holding in an impending laughter, drinking in my disbelief. "Last time I checked, you're the boring sibling."
"Whatever, just don't creep up at me like a serial killer next time." I grumbled, crouching to get the latte I got for him.
"Sure," his face lit up at the sight of his favorite drink and muttered a small thank you as he coolly drank from the straw.
I stole a glance while he sipped his latte like he didn't have a care in the whole world. His usual bloodshot eyes were gone, in place of the faraway look, there was this clean look in his eyes, a vast difference to the way he looked five months ago. His vintage band tshirt was neatly ironed and he didn't smell like marijuana. His usually messy, long hair was tied into a neat, low ponytail. He looked clean and healthy.
"Where is she?" I asked.
He simply shrugged his sh0ulders and continued sipping. "No idea. Probably playing poker with her friends or out with Jacob to god knows where."
"Jacob who?" I questi0ned, confused to his casual response.
"Mom's new boyfriend. The dude likes football and chews too loud. He never really shuts up. Mom really knows how to pick them." Cole snickered, his face a tad bit contorted in disgust.
Noticing my dismay, he shook his head as he took the final gulp of his drink. "I thought you knew it already."
"I haven't talked to her for about a year now. How do you expect me to be up to date with her scandals?"
I resisted the urge to reply to his statement with an eye roll. Instead, I decided to feign disinterest instead of asking every detail about her new boyfriend-where they met, how long they'd been dating, and most importantly, how much time had she been spending with him.
I swear to god, if she had been neglecting Cole-
"Don't give me that look, Sara. I'm perfectly fine by myself." Cole rumbled, his arms folded.
"It's solely for your sake. What if that happens again?" I asked, knowing damn well how easy it was for him to lose control and slip into a void of endless abuse because I was a witness to his repeated relapses for almost six years now.
"I won't. I'm two months clean now. Watch me make it to my mid-twenties without dragging another blunt, okay?" Cole said, as if his assurance would ease my anxiety. "You don't gotta be pissed at her. Mom has helped me really stay off weed. She deserves a break after everything she'd been through. "
Of course, he'd take her side like the mama-boy he is. I bet he'd shut up and drink even if she poisons his water. When he looked at me with his hazel eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips, I could almost swear I saw their resemblance, except she never smiled, not at me at least.
With his hazel eyes, the slight bump on his nose bridge, his slim nose downturned, and the same cupid-bowed lips, he looked just like his mom. I could pass off as her adopted kid, because my nose was slightly upturned, my lower lip larger than my upper one, my eyes being light brown, probably the eye-color of her random hook-up who left before I was even born.
Both of our hair was dark brown, slightly wavy at the ends, but mine was curlier. I was grateful I didn't look like her that much save for the color of my hair. The last thing I wanted was to look like the woman I despised with all my heart. I refused to be reminded of all the trauma I had to go through the past twenty years every time I looked into the mirror. I already had enough panic attacks to fit a lifetime.
"Yeah, I get it, she's the best mommy in the world who has been through so many shit. I'm the bad guy for judging her." I almost held my hands up.
"Enough about mom. How's things with your rich doctor boyfriend?" Cole asked me, taking out a cig from his pants pockets, smoking nicotine in lieu of weed.
He rolled down the window before turning to me and tilting his head as he contemplated my response, wisps of smoke coming out of his mouth.
I exhaled as I watched the clouds turn grey and thick with moisture, ready to downpour any moment. I tucked in a stray lock of my hair and drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. "We're good. Going strong, really. We got to celebrate our five years next month. Honestly, so excited."
Cole definitely noticed my off-tone and injected. "But mom said you two had a nasty break up about a year ago--"
"What? She needs to start minding her own business instead of getting her nose in everywhere." I said.
"He's abusing you, isn't he?" Cole widened his eyes, jumping to his own conclusions.
I shook my head just as he made his assumption. "Daniel hasn't raised a hand at me since the day we met. He's far from being abusive. You need to stop believing everything she says."
"I'm serious, Sara. I know he has a fat bank account but he has the personality of a wet noodle, and I don't know, man, he just gives me bad vibes. Your taste in men is just like mama's. Pure trash."
Did he just compare me to her? He's right. I had nothing in common with her except that we usually dated men with a stable career and mental health. That was probably a coping mechanism for all the chaos in our family life. I couldn't imagine dating someone like me. I could only imagine the amount of trauma it would ensue.
"Cole Peterson Adley, you have no right to judge him and intervene our relationship. You don't even know him well enough to know who he really is."
"I don't want to though." he replied.
I let out a sigh, pulled open the gloves box and took out the cheque book. I scribbled down the amount and tore the paper to hand him. "I hope this is enough for you."
His mouth hung open as he looked between the check and me. "What the fuck, Sara, I'm not here for money. I'm here to fucking talk to you like we used to."
He took a long drag of his cigarette, his expression tense. "Now, you're acting stuck up and being delusional just because I said something true about your boyfriend. I'm your goddamn brother and you're picking him over me? Is that it?"
"No, it's not about choosing between the two of you. If you're here to talk, then talk about anything else but my relationship. Please. I know how to handle my own issues." I said, putting the check in his free hand, having had enough of his lectures.
"Thanks," he ruffed out as he inserted the paper into his left pant pocket.
Silence engulfed all around us like a lingering tang after a cup of coffee. I didn't say another word as he seemed far more engrossed in finishing his cigarette. It was better he was never argumentative with me and knew when to shut up. Maybe, that's why we get along well.
He moved his mouth as if he had something to say.
I quirked a brow at him. To that, he simply shrugged. "I thought I'd start painting again. To de-stress. My therapist said it's a good distraction."
Despite having mental instability, one certain thing was that he loved art, just as much as he loved drugs. He was one of those kids who doodled on every surface they could find when he was a mere kid. He had trouble reading back in elementary and had a stutter problem. He grew up and his stutter disappeared but he still had trouble reading.
And we just kind of brushed it off thinking he was just lazy to read. As it turned out, he had dyslexia, and it affected his ability to read and write like kids his age.
Though he had difficult time with anything reading-and-writing related, he had an impeccable memory and was brilliantly artistic. It'd been two years since he closed down his art studio and turned to photography for a while now.
Whichever career he'd decide to pursue, I'd support him no matter what. His mental health is the utmost important thing for me right now. And he deserved to be happy after everything he'd gone through, especially our family trauma.
"Cole, I'm proud of your progress." I said, happy to witness him better than he looked the last time we met.
"Merci, Je suis également fier de vos réalisations. Tu es le meilleure." He replied me with eyes full of gratitude.
My phone vibrated from the dashboard, pulling us away from our conversation. Cole was quick to get a hold of my phone, teasingly mouthing 'the devil's calling' when the caller ID read Daniel.
Before I could manage a glare at him, he'd already picked up the call, putting the call on mute and on speaker. I tried my best apologetic look as I whispered through my teeth. "Give. My. Phone. Back. To. Me."
Daniel's voice boomed from the other line, the sound traversing and reverberating through the car in a hushed tone.
"Sara, I just got home. I'd love it if you come home from wherever you are right now."
When Cole only laughed and shook his head, I slapped my hand against his shoulder, hoping he'd stop being an idiot and hand me the phone. Instead of handing me the phone like a sensible person, he only held it high above his head, giving me a funny look in this not-so-funny situation.
"Sara? Where the fuck are you?"
Daniel's already gruff tone didn't improve when he didn't receive even a teeny bit of response from me.
"Damnnit, I know you're on the other line, speak the fuck up."
Only then my fingers clenched around his other wrist and gave it a tight warning grip that he muttered in mock pain and let me take the phone.
I unmuted the call before Daniel's frustration turned to fury and this escalates into an argument. "Sorry, I accidentally put you on mute. I swear to god, I didn't even realize it."
I bit down on my lip, anxious that he might not buy my excuse. Cole, on the other hand, only shrugged when I rolled my eyes at him. He didn't believe my reasoning like I anticipated he wouldn't.
It wasn't his word usage that had me alarmed. I wouldn't be this surprised if he'd just curse me out. But he was never the type to call me names save for making me feel like a bitch when I talked back every time we argued.
"It's okay, baby," A soft exhale from his end, then... "We'll have a long chat when you get home."
The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention at how calm he turned as if he was an inspector talking to a dumb criminal.
No more or no less words. With that final sentence, he hung up, leaving me even more anxious than I was ever before. I shook my head, placing my phone back on the dashboard, leaning back in my seat and close my eyes to alleviate my stress even for a delayed moment. I didn't let my head wander to thoughts of how my evening with Daniel could be anything other than another disastrous fight.
"By the looks of what just happened, and in my non-biased evaluation, you guys are going really strong," Cole didn't waste a minute to insert his sarcasm, stating the very, very obvious, putting salt into my wound.
I only gave him a side glance as a response. He was right. Every aspect of my relationship was falling apart, every piece of what once was being crushed by my lies and his priority over work. There's a slim chance I could salvage our relationship. It was just wishful thinking, really. Or maybe, I had become even more delusional. How could I fool myself into thinking I could fix something that was bound to end inevitably?
Surely, I could prolong the breakup and try to veer the course of our relationship. But I could already sense the ending was only a mile away. And it's only a delayed moment before I'd have to take the wakeup call.
And momentarily, my mind raced to the conversation I had with Daniel this morning. I had no idea what he would confront me about. It was either about L or Dominic. I could make up a quick excuse if it was about the messages between me and Dominic. But the ones I exchanged with L, everything I'd put under the rug would be spilled all in one second. And my whole relationship with Daniel would end. Moreover, he'd sue me for all the shit I did behind his back.
As though he knew what was running through my mind, Cole muttered seriously, pulling me out of my miserable reverie. "You know it's never too late to dump that sucker."
"I'll think about it."
"That's what you said the last time."
"I know, Cole, I know. I just..." I fumbled with my ring, the one Daniel got me as a promise ring on my twenty-one birthday, the metal cool against my fingertips. "I just need more time to think."
"Look, I know you're an over thinker, but sometimes, all you got to do is stop thinking and just do it and trust the aftermath."
I nodded my head anyway though I knew switching my mind off and blindly putting faith in the unknown was something I didn't see myself ever doing. It was more of Cole's thing. He wants something. He goes after it. He wants to dip out? He's gone before anyone ever takes notice of his absence.
"I should go. À plus tard, Sara. Got anything you wanna say to mom?" He remarked as he exited the car and leaned his elbows on the window.
And before he shut the door on his way out, I humored him to lighten the mood. "Tell my birth person I didn't say hi."
"Yeah, she loves you too." His nose twitched as he let out a hearty laugh, already pivoting on his heels to the other side of the park lot.
***
"You're implying that you haven't cheated on me?"
Daniel eyed me rather suspiciously, gauging my reaction as he sat on the opposite side of our bed, his hand clutching my phone, the bright screen displaying a new text Dominic had sent me.
"No. Why are you being so paranoid over a text? It could've been a mistake from them."
I shrugged, pulling my feet up and resting my chin on my knees, feigning annoyance so he'd quit interrogating me. I averted my gaze to the floor, in case he could see through my lie. Thank god... the contact wasn't saved. Otherwise, even my deceit couldn't save me from that mess.
"I don't think it's purely coincidental that some guy sending you a pic of some erotic novel he's reading and saying how much he wishes to do those things to you?"
I threw my hands in the air as I dramatically say. "How can you be so sure it's a he? It could've been a girl texting the wrong number."
Daniel's expression morphed into utter confusion and disbelief. The look on his face was one thing I'd love to take a pic so I could laugh about it with Tina later, also thanking her for this very trick she'd taught me over the phone on my way home. He'd never seen me like this, gaslighting him right back as he was gaslighting me.
Before he can throw another excuse my way, I said out loud, glaring at him. "I've been faithful to you, haven't I? I'm not the one who leaves in the middle of the night and makes me feel like shit for being protective over your relationship with Kiara. Am I in the wrong for acting like a girlfriend?"
He only drew out a frustrated groan, looking every bit guilty like I always did.
"We're talking about the text. Don't try to sidetrack me." He said, dropping my phone on the bed.
"I'm not sidetracking you. I'm done being a doormat. I'm pointing out your behaviors. Like who the hell have breakfast at a coworker's house especially when they know said-coworker is a touchy-ass bitch?" I pressed it more, willing to see how far I could get him to distract from my issue.
"She's not even the least bit touchy, Sara, and you want to point out flaws? Fine, I'll tell what I think who you actually are." Daniel thinned his lips. "You're just projecting your insecurities onto her because everyone knows you can't ever have actual male friends without you spreading your legs. You're like a little kid in a candy shop since you want everything from everyone all at once, Sara. "
He stood, nearing to my side and quirking a brow to see my reaction. I tried to not give him one. He was just trying to get into my head. Too bad, it was working.
"That was way before I dated you." I yelled at him, partly hating him for calling me out.
And he was right, making valid points. But it just sounded like the words whore, slut, and wanton. Maybe, he was indirectly calling me one.
I couldn't find the strength in me to play this game with him. I was doing good. I thought I was. But this was the last straw.
The room seemed to sway and my eyes struggle to adjust because everything seemed so bright and so bold. My insecurities were out in the open right now, insults from the past resurfacing in my brain.
"She has sex with everything that moves. No wonder, she doesn't have a boy asking her out for real. Like... I mean no one wants a walking STD." Brianna said to her bestfriend, giving an exaggerated look of disgust.
Laughter. More laughter. And I remember tears. My own bitter tears. I didn't regret sleeping with Brianna's boyfriend to prove her point. I didn't feel remorse when I said good morning to Brianna, walking out of her brother's bedroom, wearing nothing but his shirt. I wish I wasn't so bold, tearing up relationships, because karma's always a bitch.
It was all fun and games, trying to be bold and acting as if the nasty comments didn't affect me. But I didn't expect it'd take a twisted turn to the point I couldn't keep up the strong girl façade.
"I've heard you were such a whore at Bratt's party. Would you mind showing us how naughty you could get?" Mark leered down at me, the neon light inside the room highlighting his sadistic smirk.
My head hazy from all the narcotics. Couldn't move. My dress in the corner of the room I couldn't recognize. Two guys. One forcefully kissing me and one took his sweet time taking advantage of me whilst Mark stood with a camera in hand, chuckling like a maniac.
"Dare to go to the police or cry about this to anyone and this video goes up on so many websites. And I'll expose your biggest secret that's far worse than this tape. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
Crying. Turning almost unconscious from ED that developed after the incident. So many nights of sobbing in my bathtub. Self-inflicted wounds on my thighs wishing I was in a different, pure body. Dropping out of college three months after that incident.
After I dropped out with two days of me going MIA, Daniel came over to my dorm to tell me I'm not a whore to him despite the rumors. He convinced me I wasn't dirty like I thought myself to be. Of course, he didn't know about that incident. I made sure he didn't. Even Tina doesn't know of it. He made love to me in the gentlest way possible. He made me feel whole again when I was at my lowest. He took me in and made sure I was safe from anyone else but him.
Now standing before me wasn't the man who helped me in every way. It was shocking he was the same man with kind eyes, because I could see everything but kindness in his eyes right now. I couldn't see that version of him anymore. All I saw was an immature man who looked satisfied seeing my bravado falter, just a little bit, because right now, I was aware of his attempt at having the upper hand.
I tried to shake off the panicky feeling in my chest, but I could feel the full-on attack coming. So, I did what I'd always done best. I walked out and entered the spare bedroom, locking it despite him yelling 'This conversation isn't over'.
I told him to piss off and he told me I wouldn't get away with this in the morning. And I heard our bedroom door close. I got inside the bathroom, undressing myself, turning on the shower as I slowly slid down on the floor tiles. I curled myself in a protective position, and hoping the water could wash away this feeling of unworthiness. When it didn't, I resorted to using the aid of the blade I'd hidden under the mattress. When nothing helped, I dropped the blade beside me and started shaking, water washing away my tears and blood, but not the memories.
Seconds turned to minutes of shaking, and a shudder rolled through me as realization sank in that the shadow of the past would always follow me, reminding how exploited I was.
That's when I truly crumbled into pieces of a stupid, reckless college girl I used to be, the water running on my skin concealing my crying sounds, as my boyfriend oblivious to what was happening to me probably slept soundly in our bedroom across the hall.
...
💀 God I both loved and hated writing this chapter. I was loving the argument... but then I legit felt like shit writing Sara's past.
It was so uncomfortable for me to really go through Sara's past. Like it killed me to know there's so many cases gone unsolved. But my heart goes out to those who survived and who didn't <3333 y'all are angels :< and idk fuck men
fyi, Cole and Sara are like step-siblings but they're like real siblings yk
bookrec: Mindfuck series by S.T. Abby