Back to Timothy's POV
Forbidden love.
It was something wasn't it? It's been a conflict that tore people's hearts into tiny fragments since the beginning of us all. But what was forbidden about this? That we were two boys? That we'd be damned to spend eons in hell for loving another human being? What a sin that was.
See, it wasn't forbidden, it didn't feel forbidden.
It only seemed to appear that way because of the way everybody else saw it. I was always someone who viewed things different, shouldn't I just hope everyone else would do the same?
"What did you think of him?" I asked Colette when we got home, I was thankful our parents still weren't back yet.
"He's nice," she said. She had that look on her face that she got when she was skeptical.
"And?" I kinda hoped for something more.
She just shrugged.
"Do you think I should.." I stopped mid-sentence. Where was I going with this? "What's wrong Letty?" I asked when I noticed the look in her eyes, and the way she was looking down at her hands in distress, that was something I did not her.
"Timothy..you didn't tell Eli about dad did you?"
"Of course not! W-why would I even?"
"Because he would tell somebody and everything would just..." She moved her hands around as if she was at a loss for words, but I understood what she meant.
"And what would they do, Letty? If he told somebody? Throw a man in prison for yelling at his kids too much? Because that's all they'll see." I said, suddenly angry. I wasn't even sitting on the couch anymore, I got up in pure astonishment. Colette and I tried to ignore the subject of our father as much as we could.
"You could always tell them about-"
"No! No, Colette!" I interrupted. "I want him gone as much as you do, but we can't. You know we can't, we've never even told anyone about him! In public you are your normal happy self, no one would suspect a thing! If I was like that Elijah would have never even suspected anything was wrong! You've never even told Arden or Raven and we've been friends with them for years! Why would you think I'd tell him?" I couldn't help it, the fact she'd bring up the possibility I'd tell anyone about what my father did is insane. I was just completely livid.
"He asked me, Timothy. He asked me about dad before I left. He tried to get it out of me because he said you wouldn't tell him." She rushed to say.
"No..No, because I told him I'd tell him when I was ready. Why would he go behind my back to you?"
She looked at me with pity in her eyes, but my sister would never lie to me. "I'm sorry, Timothy. You know you can't tell him."
I sighed and clenched my jaw. "I didn't ask for him as my father, I didn't ask for Elijah to consul me in problems I've been dealing with for 10 years, we didn't ask for an abusive father who makes our lives hell! Tell people don't tell people, what are they going to do? Nothing. We might as well keep learning how to deal with getting treated like a piece of no good waste like father says we are right? Because we asked for this life? He choose to have us, we didn't choose to have him. Let me tell you, Colette, no one is going to help us, no matter who it is..mom has tried..even after father.." I had tears running down my cheeks, and a knot in my throat. My nails were digging into my hands to control my emotions, my hands and arms were almost visibly shaking if I were not trying to control it.
"Don't talk about what he did to you, Timothy. We just shouldn't be talking about this at all, you know this." She sighed.
"No," I said. "We shouldn't," and I stormed out of the living room, slamming my bedroom door behind me.
What did I do to deserve this?
***
My heart sunk to the dark nothingness inside my chest as I ran through the hallway.
All I had to do was wait it out until Colette and mother came home, I kept telling myself.
I ran to the guest room at the end of the hall, not without falling onto my legs a few times out of the fear that also caused the tears running down face.
I just couldn't remember the last time I breathed.
I just remember this moment, hiding underneath the bed, watching the locked doorknob twist and turn.
This is all it was, hiding.
I had to do it or else I'd fear for my life more than I already did. It gave me a certain shelter, where I could squeeze my hands against my ears tightly, hug my knees against chest while laying on my side, pleading "stop" over and over again until he did.
This is what happened when I came out of my room at the wrong time, when Colette and mother weren't home. And it was just he and I.
All of this because I wanted a glass of water, and he never drank, but this time he reeked of some hard liquor that was unknown to me.
And he had only hit me weeks before that. Weeks before he had scared me to the point where I thought I would never find another thing to terrify me in nightmares, even in daydreams, which were supposed to be happy, for the rest of my life.
I had been hiding for hours now, I had to be.
Through my ears I could still hear the words, the screaming, the pounding.
Why can't it be over?
It stopped.
I didn't though. I still held my body tightly together to the point I thought if I squeezed anymore, I'd be my own cause of death. But fear, I knew it was the only thing that would be the death of me.
Everything else came in a blur, I remember I had hyperventilated so much that I was close to losing consciousness.
"Timothy!" I saw a reflection of two black haired, angelic faces cross my vision. They had dragged my lifeless body out from underneath the bed, and now I was lying on someone's lap.
After that, everything slowly turned black.
I sat up straight in bed. I had a puddle of sweat underneath me and my hair cascaded in front of my vision, soaking wet.
My chest seemed to be in race, it was running, my heart was beating faster then it every has before, my breathing was even worse.
I had an anxiety attack while I was sleeping. Where everything was supposed to be safe, I dreamt of the one thing that wasn't.
My face was dripping with sweat, and I was only in a t-shirt and boxers. I had almost fallen out of bed, not before I realized not only did I have sweat on my face, but tears. My eyes were burning. I couldn't tell if it was the tears or the sweat that caused it.
My blankets were still wrapped around me when I got to my feet, that still felt weak at the memory, when I ran out my room to across the hall.
I was sobbing by now. The memory. "Colette," I sobbed quietly,
She was wrapped in a black comforter and blue sheet on her bed, the moonlight hitting her black hair that made her look like a raven in the night.
I called her name again before shutting the door, and she sat up quickly at my appearance. Her eyes went wide.
"Brother," she said quietly, her voice worried and sympathetic.
I stood in front of her door trying to slow my breathing and tears that were streaming down to my chin.
She hopped of the side of her bed and quickly hurtled over to me. She wrapped her arms tightly around me, holding me against her like we were the only two people in the world. I had dropped to my knees on the floor, calming my tears in her arms.
"I had the dream," I said. "But it was somehow worse this time. It was like it was happening all over again, and over again. I couldn't wake up until it was over, I-" My voice caught in my throat.
"I told you, we shouldn't have talked about it. All it did was make you remember." She said, but nicely, and gently.
"I was so scared," I sniffed. I had calmed my crying, I was lying weakly in Colette's arms on the floor.
"Just sleep with me, Timothy. It's 3 a.m." She picked me up with ease and slowly moved me over to the opposite side of her bed that she was sleeping on, and covered me only with the blue sheet.
She has opened her bedroom door and tiptoed out after getting me laid down.
I stared at a painting Colette had down across her room that she had painted on the wall, in blankness. I tried to keep my thoughts blank.
Colette came back, a glass of ice water in her hand. She set it on the night stand next to me before turning on her ceiling fan above us.
I then felt her weight weigh down the bed next to me.
"I couldn't live without you," I said weakly. "Sometimes I think, if it was just me, I wouldn't be here anymore. Really, I wouldn't." I shook my head.
Colette was facing me her hands supporting her head, while I was just staring at the fan spinning on the ceiling.
"You know the same goes for me," she said quietly. "I'm forever going to be thankful I have you." I could her the sadness in her voice, probably from what I had just said. "I'll always be there, you needn't think I won't be."
I nodded my head.
"Was it bad?" She asked.
I was unconsciously picking at the sheet underneath my hand. "Like the actual hell." I replied.
"I wish I had been there with you. It's the worse wish you could make I think. Out of everything I could want, I wish for that. But if I was there with you, I could've experienced it with you, and could be going through what you are. I could sympathize with you, and actually have lived your pain. But at least, we'd be doing it together. Instead of you living through this alone." She said quietly.
"I would never wish that upon you, I love you too much to expose you to what I felt," was all I could choke out.
I could hear her mumble, and then my eyelids got heavy and everything went black again.