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Stella
(Edited once)
I woke up to my brother's annoying, yelling voice, as per usual. Sadly and conveniently, I got accustomed to his screams. However, I would never ever get used to the abuse.
It physically and mentally hurt just thinking about his punches to my back last night. At one point during his rampage, he got tired from using his fists and decided to switch to the whip. I just bit my lip until he was done.
I did not do anything to upset him yesterday.
I rubbed my eyes and stretched my aching and bruised body. I was too exhausted since I did not get enough sleep last night. I never do.
I got out of my small bed, which was basically an old dirty mattress, and walked to the cramped bathroom at the end of the hall. When I finished my very quick shower, I wore a casual black shirt that matched my hair, my old blue jeans, and my worn-out boots.
I took a deep breath after returning to my room and was ready for the last day of high school. I was mentally unprepared to end this stage of my life mainly because school was a shelter from Raymond.
I got out of my room, and I walked towards the stairs as quietly as possible. I did not want to see Raymond first thing in the morning, yet I knew it was useless to try and do so. It was an inevitable thing.
I was eighteen, and by law, I could leave the house. The only obstacle was Raymond. His grip on me was too tight to free myself from it. The same grip that almost choked me to death multiple times, and I was terrified.
I did try to run away on my eighteenth birthday, but Raymond predicted my escape plan and locked me in the attic for a week without water or food. I did not know how I survived for that long, yet I remember praying to die. I wanted to meet my parents again and be at ease, living a tranquil life.
On multiple occasions, I wanted to die and never see my abuser ever again, though I never thought of committing suicide. I would not end my life with my own hands. I would rather be killed or die naturally than disappoint my parents. I was holding on, but I did not know for how long.
Life isn't fair sometimes.
I looked at the bottom of the stairs and saw Raymond waiting for me with a frown on his always constipated face. I hated him. I hoped for the minimum punishment today, or at least this morning, because I wanted to attend my last day of school with a decent appearance.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked coldly, which made me wonder if he knew how to smile. I did not remember the last time I saw his happy face. His fierce green eyes were filled with hostility toward me, and my gray ones were filled with fear and dread.
"School," I replied in a muffled tone while maintaining eye contact. He hated it when I averted my gaze from his, and I learned that the very hard way. I earned another scar on my back from that day.
He scoffed. "You will come home as fast as you can when school is over. I will have guests in the evening, so I want you to make a good dinner, understand?" he demanded, and I paled. Guests...
"Yes, brother," I answered instantly, and he returned to his room. It could have been worse, he did not lay a hand on me, and I did not want to jinx my luck. I ran from the house like my feet were on fire in case he decided to change his mind.
I saw my old bike parked near the side road, and I finally smiled, taking in the fresh air. It was a peaceful morning, and it had been years since I felt this refreshed. The chilly weather was perfect for me since my body was always warm. I loved this feeling, the cold breeze was like drinking a cold cup of water in summer.
I glanced at the children escorted by their loving parents to their school and sighed. I missed being this small, where my parents were still alive. They were the sun that guided me around. However, an unexpected plane crash extinguished the light from my life.
I had Raymond by my side at first. He took good care of me, considering he was only sixteen with no relatives to help, and I was only eight. Money was never a problem because our parents saved money for us in case of an emergency. He took custody of me after a social worker, who constantly visited us, saw that he was fit for the job.
He loved me and showed me how a good older brother should be until he flipped. Everything turned upside down one day, and I did not know why he became abusive and cruel. I got loathed without an explanation.
"Stella, stop!" I was knocked out of my thoughts by someone's voice. I focused back on the road and saw that I was about to crash into my school entrance. I swiftly slammed my hand on the brakes and completely stopped the bike with my legs' aid. I was about to bump into my teacher because of my stupidity.
"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, Ms. Rodriguez, I wasn't paying attention, I'm sorr-" she cut off my babbling with a small tap on my arm.
"Stella, I am okay, you didn't hit me. Are you okay, though?"
I smiled." Yes, and good morning."
"Good morning, dear. Ready for the last day?" she asked with a grin, and I chuckled. She was reasonably in desperate need of a vacation.
"No, I don't want to finish high school. It's my second home." I genuinely admitted. If I were more precise, it was my first home because I did not view the house that Raymond and I lived in as a home. I could not say this out loud.
No one knew what happened behind closed curtains, and I wanted to keep it that way. No one knew, not even my best friend, because I did not want to be a burden and drag them into my dark world.
I looked around and saw Skye walking toward me with a smile. "Hey, Stella, excited?" she asked, her wide black eyes were dancing with excitement, and her brown hair was bouncing up and down since she was jumping. I adored her enthusiasm and wished to be this carefree one day.
"Good morning, Skye," I greeted her with a hug, then headed to class. I was welcomed by other students and teachers as we walked through the hallways. I was not the popular student with an extraordinary look or excellent grades. I considered myself good-looking, with good grades.
I was merely known for being a good athlete or for winning the gold medal in sprinting and swimming in my first year of high school. I loved sports, it was the only activity I could practice without Raymond disapproving because it was within the school borders, and he did not see.
As soon as we entered the last music class, Joana, as our teacher liked to be called, cleared his throat. "Good morning, fellas, please take your seat. We have some talking to do."
"Are we in trouble?" Thomas, the class clown, asked. We laughed, and Jaona chuckled at the spontaneous response.
"No, you are not. Unless there's something I should know about!" Joana remarked, and Thomas shook his head. "Okay then, let's get to the point. Since it's your last day here, I want every one of you, ladies and gentlemen, to discuss your thoughts about your future," he announced, and most students groaned. It was a challenge to talk about ourselves, but I was excited to share my feelings with them since I rarely speak in class, and I want someone to listen. I was never given the opportunity with Raymond.
As students took turns to talk, my mind drifted back to Raymond's words. He would be having guests, and I needed to think of a very good meal to make. I did not want to disrespect them, as he put it, with 'burnt' food.
I once received a beating that got me to lose consciousness for hours because the food was slightly overheated. He broke some of my rips and my index finger. I had bruises on my stomach, which lasted for more than a month. I was a mess, and yet he refused to take me to the hospital, saying that I would expose him. I could not dare do such a thing. He would hurt me even more.
"Stella... Stella!" Skye called as she touched my shoulder, where I got a punch from Raymond the other day. I almost winced but endured the pain and looked at her.
"Yes?"
"You're up," she pointed at Joana. I looked at him and saw that he was waiting for me to stand up and talk. On second thought, talking was not that fun.
"Oh... thanks."
"Stella, could you please share your thoughts or future plan with us?" he asked with a comforting smile.
I nodded, giving up. "Of course," I turned my gaze to the rest of the class and smiled. "High school was great," I began speaking, everyone was giving me their full attention, and it felt nice.
"I truly like all teachers and students, they were amazing with me, at least. Some treated me like a sister and a friend, and some like a daughter or even a granddaughter. Most of you don't love school. Heck, you even hate it!" they chuckled, and I beamed, feeling more confident. "But I am grateful for it," I said. It was my safe haven from Raymond. "Joana, you are one of my favorite teachers, and everyone knows that your classes are incredible. You would always say that to have the rainbow, we have to love the rain. Thank you because this phrase was on my mind whenever I was upset," or in physical pain. "As for my future plan, I might be a dancer or a ballerina or a teacher. I am not sure yet. The universe is baking a great plan for all of us, so have faith and keep going." I finished my short speech with tears in my eyes, remembering what I missed in life because of my brother.
I will miss feeling at home in school.
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