Adrienne
By the time I entered my sophomore year, Robin and Elaina had made my life utterly unbearable. They sought ways to make me suffer under their roof as much as possible. When it wasn't Robin at home, it was Elaina at school. Violet wasn't so much as terrifying as she was annoying. She had a habit of stealing things from my room and I made sure to install a lock that only locked with my key on my door. Robin was too self-absorbed to notice the modifications I made and I wasn't inclined to tell her.
Robin had taken to keeping up with her abuse. Riley grew worried, as I quickly withdrew. I was more content to be alone than to be around too many people and Elaina saw that as a chance to make me even more miserable. Dad didn't seem to really notice, happy with his life with Robin.
If the laundry wasn't done, I'd get hit. If the floors weren't vacuumed, I'd get hit. If the bathroom wasn't spotless I would get hit again. I couldn't hang out with Zayne as often and he quickly realized something was up. I reassured him everything was fine.
Zayne and I never brought up the kiss again, but it lingered. Even in high school, I could see that Zayne had grown even more. He was the king, decimating anyone on the field, while everyone wanted a piece of him. I was content however to stick with my corner of the school, trying to survive. Girls threw themselves at him, but Zayne seemed uninterested, his eyes always lingering on me. A dark part of me wondered if he was attracted to me and how I felt about it. I couldn't deny that something had irrevocably shifted between us. I was attracted to him and every damaged part of him.
The dynamics of our friendship had changed. I was beginning to recognize that he wanted me in a different way. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that kind of relationship, but he didn't seem to care. Once, he even cornered me and landed a surprise kiss on me.
"What was that for?" I asked, as I lingered in the parking lot, looking up at him.
Did anyone see us? Zayne grinned down at me, as he hiked up his duffle back full of gear over his shoulder, showing off his toned torso. He had grown hardened. I knew he was still living with his dad, but now I was certain his dad didn't dare to try and touch him. Zayne would've knocked his dad out in an instant.
He had grown even taller, if that was even possible. He stood at a whopping six-foot seven inches of hard man. He even got stronger and he practically towered everyone at school, except for maybe Damian. They were both defensive linebackers for the team.
His glittering gray gaze bore down on me, his meaning clear. "It's a reminder."
A reminder of what?
I didn't need to voice it out loud. Zayne was intent on ensuring that I was hyper aware of him at every turn, even though I hadn't addressed our changing relationship. He nodded, before calling out. "I'll see you around, Adrienne."
I shook my head and got into my car.
I got my permit a while back, so I was only permitted to drive to and from school. Somehow, Robin made sure to take advantage of me as I became both Violet and Elaina's personal chauffer.
Riley got in the passenger seat, as she waited for me. "Care to explain what that was?"
Riley knew about the kiss. I shook my head, as I started my car. "It's nothing."
"I just saw Zayne kiss you in the parking lot," Riley pointed out. "That's not nothing."
"Yeah?" I joked. "Want to tell me what's going on with you and Damian?"
Riley gave me a look. "He's nothing."
That was a fat lie.
Like all the other girls, Elaina developed a crush on Zayne pretty quickly and somehow both Elaina and Violet had it in their heads that Zayne would fall for one of them. I knew they didn't see him as a person more than just an accessory to gain popularity points. Zayne didn't really seem to notice them or cared for them either way. In fact, he practically glared at Elaina whenever she came by. He found her annoying.
Elaina had become some kind of an aspiring-Instagram model, since she was actually too short to become a real one. She was just shy under five-foot seven, while I had grown to a whopping five-foot eleven. It was something she seemed to nitpick about with an edge of bitterness to her tone, as if it was unfortunate that my height was wasted on me and should have gone to her.
"You're not pretty enough to become a model," Elaina would say, as she held out her camera phone to smooth out an errant strand of hair, before tilting her chin down to make her face look smaller. The tone of her voice grated on me, as if she spoke like she knew more than I did and I was nothing but foolish. I had long ago hardened myself to her insults. She was always so petty. "So it's wasted on you."
"Don't worry, Elaina," I assured her with a sarcastic lilt to my voice. "I don't intend to go into modeling."
As her own brand of torture, sometimes, I was forced to take pictures of her—something I couldn't avoid doing whenever Elaina asked, unless I wanted Robin to "punish" me again.
Robin had gotten creative with her punishments. She'd lock me for days in the refurbished basement if I was being disobedient. Except, she didn't just leave me alone. She'd forced me to face the wall, my palms flat against the cool surface. Our "sessions" occurred late into the evening when everyone else was asleep. She used a baseball bat, aiming to hit the back of my thighs, or my back. Sometimes her choice of weapon was an umbrella or one of those metal fire pokers. That hurt more.
Robin made sure never to leave any bruises and I prayed for its quick ending. She liked to preach that I was being bad and that my place was to obey her. I wanted to vomit, nausea threatening to overcome me, but each time I endured it.
I took it silently, refusing to cry. I didn't dare run to dad because the last time I had, Robin had twisted the situation to her favor and convinced dad that she hadn't done anything of the sort. That I had an overactive imagination and that she'd never lay a hand on me because she loved me like one of her own daughters. She played the perfect actress, sounding hurt and wounded by the accusation. Dad asked me once more if it was true and my heart broke in two when I realized he didn't believe me.
Or rather, he couldn't believe me because that would shatter his image of Robin as the woman for him.
My father looked at me, his gaze bearing down on me. I was situated at my desk doing homework, as he came by and sat on the bed. I turned in my chair to face him. "Adrienne, are you telling me the truth?"
It was just me and my dad in my room. Robin had gone out that afternoon, shopping with Elaina and Violet. My face betrayed its shock as I realized he didn't believe me. "I'm telling the truth, why would I—"
"—Robin is upset. She thinks you dislike her and is making up stories to..." dad trailed off, looking for the right word. "...to separate us. She thinks that you might think I'm replacing mom. Robin is trying her hardest to get along with you. This afternoon, she said she invited you to go shopping with her, but you refused."
I frowned. Robin never asked me and even if she did, it wasn't like I was keen on going shopping with my abuser just to watch Elaina try on all her clothes and then have Violet and I tell her how good she looked in each one.
"Dad, I didn't—" I tried again, only for him to cut me off.
"You should make more of an effort to get along with Robin. She's really trying. She wants you to like her as much as she likes you," Dad said, looking disappointed and tired. "You shouldn't be making up stories and acting out if that's what this is all about."
I felt crushed. My own dad didn't believe me and it hurt to know that Robin had welded herself so deep that even my own father believed her over his own daughter. And so I lied between my teeth and told him that it wasn't true and he was right. Robin would never hurt me. She was the perfect stepmom and that I would make an effort to get along with her.
I cried that night again.
The worst days were when dad was out of town, as if it gave Robin license to be especially cruel. She'd insist I do all the chores and found ways to ensure that I couldn't go out, confined to the duties I was assigned. School dances? Forget about them. I wasn't allowed to go for fear of showing Elaina up. Football games? Rarely. There was always something to be cleaned. I asked if she had enough money to buy her clothes and handbags why not use the money to hire a house cleaner? Robin simply smiled and said, "That's why you're here and besides, we just don't have the money. Besides, it's good for you. I'm doing this for your own good. It builds character and it's not like you're doing anything else."
"Okay. So then why do I have to do Elaina's and Violet's chores as well?" I asked her. "If I do all that, I don't have much time to do homework after I come home from basketball practice."
Robin continued to pay attention to her phone. "You shouldn't spend so much time doing school work. It won't get you that far in life. You're much more useful here cleaning the house."
I was smart enough to know that made absolutely no sense. "Robin, I think—"
"I'm sorry Adrienne, but I really have to finish this. Besides, you're too young to know what's good for you. Why don't you run along and make sure to finish vacuuming the upstairs," Robin said. "Or do I need to punish you again?"
I grew quiet after that, as I turned to leave, my heart racing out of fear.
The only time I had any respite was when I went to school and the occasional weekend when Robin insisted I clean some particular spot in the house that didn't really need cleaning, while she went out with her socialite friends. Somehow she had it in her head that we were wealthy and she belonged in a club full of other bored, wealthy women, eating out at fancy brunch places. My dad didn't seem too bothered by it and in fact was happy that he was getting some respite from Robin. I was starting to see once more the stress and toll it was taking on him to make her happy.
They were beginning to fight more, their voices carrying. Elaina and Violet were so absorbed in their own world that they didn't see it. Elaina was proving to be a bully just like her mother, while Violet complained about all the things she didn't have and wanted.
One night, as I sat on my bed, with my laptop opened, dad knocked on the door. He poked his head in. "Can I come in?"
I closed the laptop and nodded, surprised. "Yeah, dad," I said, hiding the pain I felt along my lower back and my legs. I kept extra ice packs now in the freezer for whenever I needed them. There was even a stash of Advil in my nightstand drawer. "What's up?"
"I just wanted to see how you were doing," dad said, as he came into the room. The soft lighting set the atmosphere to a relaxing pace, as dad came over and sat on the side of the bed.
The nightmares from mom's attack on me still lingered in the back of my mind, but I knew it would never completely go away. Dad offered to take me to a psychiatrist, but I wasn't interested in taking pills to shield the night terrors away. It was normal to have experienced the PTSD after what had happened to me, but the last thing I wanted was to drug myself to sleep.
"Another fight?" I questioned.
Dad sighed, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulder. He looked at me, his warm eyes imparting a familiarity that I hadn't seen in a while. "All couples fight. Robin and I had a heated discussion."
"I hope it wasn't anything serious," I said. What could I say? I was partially glad that they were fighting simply because I hoped that dad would see how much of a snake Robin was.
"Not really, I think. It was about what would happen if I were to suddenly pass away," dad said conversationally.
I froze, my gazed fixed on him. "That's not funny."
"I'm sorry," dad apologized. "I'm trying not to be. Robin just cares about me, that's all. She cares about all of you. She doesn't want anything to happen."
Yeah, right.
I considered, not for the first time, telling him the truth. I now had physical proof and really what could he hope to argue? I was self-inflicting them? However, I knew he needed this as much as he needed hope. Robin was the woman he fell in love with. He'd be devastated if she wasn't who she pretended to be in front of my father.
This was so fucked up.
Part of me wondered if I wasn't doing this to myself, like I wanted to come out on top against Robin, refusing to give her the satisfaction of bending me to her will. However, I knew that wasn't it. I was trapped by my own guilt. For the first time, my father seemed alive. Robin made him happy and who was I to take that away from him?
I was too afraid of losing him.
Of course, I should tell someone. I thought dad would be it, but even then the first time I had told him about it, he didn't seem to register that it happened. In fact, he looked more disappointed than anything in me, not outraged that his daughter had been abused by the one woman he loved now.
It was like he refused to believe it was happening.
And he was a goddamn attorney.
My anger towards him had been overshadowed by the sadness that crept in, like a dense fog slowly rolling over the landscape. Robin had him wrapped around his finger and there was nothing that could conceivably pull him away if the mention of his daughter having been roughed around by his wife didn't give him pause enough to reconsider the whole situation and Robin as a person.
"So what does that have to do with your death?" I asked him, swallowing the lump in my throat, tamping down the emotions that threaten to bubble over.
My voice had largely come back, but there were still times it hurt. Riley noticed the change and I had broken down and told her the truth. She couldn't believe it and got mad at me for a little bit for not telling her. However, her anger didn't linger too long, before it was replaced with sorrow and sympathy.
Zayne hadn't been able to figure it out, either, but I knew he sensed it wasn't just puberty. My voice sounded at times pained, like I was perpetually screaming and it was hoarse all the time. Eventually, I had learned to manipulate my chords to sound more organic, maintaining an almost low, seductive tone. I figured it was better than what it sounded before. Of course, on more than one occasion it could come off as suggestive and that was something Elaina used to spread rumors around the school that I was intentionally flirting with all the guys.
"I see that your voice's gotten better," dad beamed, trying to make light of the situation, but it did nothing to alleviate the mood between us. Dad and I were like distant strangers.
"The speech therapy helps," I told him. Dad had made sure to enroll me in speech therapy twice a week. He never told Robin the real reason why and insisted that I was interested in learning a new language and wanted help with my pronunciation and accent. When I questioned why he never told her, dad said it wasn't his place. The only person who had the right to reveal that was me.
I was touched.
"I'm glad."
"Dad," I said, calling his attention. I learned that I could cajole people with my new voice into confiding in me. My speech therapist had described it as a "honeyed" tone. She warned me to be careful, since it was low and seductive in its design. "What were you two arguing about?"
Dad sighed, uncertain whether to tell me. In the end, whether it was exhaustion or something else, he gave in. "We were talking about what would happen if I passed away. How Robin would financially support all of you."
Of course. Somehow, I wasn't surprised. "You guys talked about the financial aspect of your passing?"
"Sometimes I forget, you're growing up so fast," dad said, as if I hadn't just voiced a more concerning point in the discussion.
"We were discussing my will. Robin was concerned and I reassured her that all of you would be taken care of," dad said.
Which probably upset her, I thought happily. It was one of those vague answers that dad would provide, without really giving specifics.
He rubbed his hand against his leg, as if he was nervous all of a sudden. He let out an uncertain breath. Leaning forward, I frowned, sensing something off. "Dad? Is something wrong? Are you okay?"
Dad smiled at me, as he turned to me. "Nothing. I just wanted to say good night." Then he paused, as his gaze roamed the features of my face, as a memory came through. "Sometimes, you look a lot like your mother and I miss her a lot."
I missed her too.
I hugged him, holding onto him. Even though he had been predominantly absent after mom's death, sometimes I'm reminded that he's still here.
Until he wasn't.