Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
My heart crawls up my throat, hammering a disoriented beat as it tries to figure out whether we still love him or not, whether we ever loved him or not, whether we even know him anymore or not.
He stuffs his hand into his pocket and licks his lower lip, his ocean blue eyes roam over me, wary and tired.
“Give me your eyes, babe,” he whispers and it feels like my world freezes. “You gotta give me your eyes.”
My hand itches to rise and push the plastic bridge of my grey tinted glasses until they’re resting on my head, but I don’t. Instead I raise my chin, stare him down through my shields and retort quietly but firmly, “Stopped giving you things a long time ago, Kane. I’m not about to start again now.”
14 years old
Matthew laughs loudly at my self-deprecating joke; he hasn’t laughed like this in so long. He bumps his arm against mine and holds the bottle out to me.
“Live a little, sis. You only get one shot at this shit.”
“Mee-maw will kill me,” I grumble, pushing the bottle away.
He sneers and downs the rest of his beer before tossing it far across the vast expanse. “Mee-maw can go fuck herself.” I’ve never heard such vehemence in his tone, nor have I ever heard him speak that way about Mee-maw.
Vehemence is a new word I learned this week. I love learning new words, it helps me feel as though I can express everything inside just a little bit more. It also makes Mee-maw happy.
“She’s going to moan at you anyway and beat your ass for something else. Might as well be something worthwhile.” He holds his fresh beer to me from the box by his side and I bite my lip as I question what to do here. “Come on, sis. Don’t be a pussy.”
I glower at him. I’m not a pussy.
Snatching the bottle, I take a large gulp and grimace. It’s warm but the taste isn’t as bad as I thought it might be. The bubbles are weird though, it’s not often I drink fizzy drinks.
“You’ve got to stop letting her treat you like she does. Don’t let her hit you.”
“Her heart,” I argue.
“She’s a manipulative old crow. Her heart is fine. Just fucking tell her to piss off.”
“Last time you did that, Grandpa punched you in the eye.”
“Yeah well he’s hardly gonna punch you is he?” he replies with a laugh and clinks his bottle against mine. “Grandpa is so in love and so tired, he doesn’t want to see that there’s somethin’ wrong with the way Mee-maw treats us. But it is wrong. It has always been wrong.”
He’s right, it is wrong. I hate it, every moment of it. I feel like a caged bird, broken, without a voice, without love.
I drink more of my beer and swing my legs slightly. “Mom called yesterday. Said she wants to take me shopping for my birthday.”
Even though my birthday was four months ago.
Matthew shrugs and I watch his throat bob as he gulps his beer down. “Let her. Bout time she gave us something for bein’ hers.”
“Yeah,” I agree softly. “Mee-maw said—”
“Fucking hell, Imogen!” Matthew snarls, hopping down off the wall to throw this beer bottle too. I hear it smash against something hard in the distance. I love that sound, the way glass shatters on impact. It’s like the sound I get in my head before I snap and write bad words in my diary. “You’re such a coward. Stop it with the Mee-maw said.”
“Don’t mock my tone.”
“Then stop sounding that way!” He glowers at me, his familiar hazel eyes so angry and sad combined. “You need to stand up for yourself! You need to stop letting people manipulate you. You’re fierce, you’re a bitch. You tell me where to shove it all the time, so I know you have it in you. Fight back!”
“Like you did with Kane Jessop?” I comment wryly, recalling their fight last year where my brother got his ass handed to him.
“I might have lost but at least I fucking tried. Kane hasn’t bothered me since, not really. You know why? Respect. He respects me now because I fought back.”
“So I should go and sucker punch Mee-maw?”
“Hell no.”
“Don’t say hell.”
He rolls his eyes dramatically and continues, “I’m not saying hit her, but you should overpower her at the very least. Rip that slipper from her hand and tell her she ain’t never touching you again.”
His wisdom is making me feel more powerful than I likely am. So badly I want to tell her to get lost and go suck her ugly God’s dick, but I never do. More than anything I want to kick Kane in his, but again I never do.
I drain my beer, feeling a spurt of courage, and throw it as far as my brother threw his. It shatters and I smile at the sound as he laughs and hands me another. This one goes down even easier than the first and I find myself feeling more powerful than I ever have.