Page 60 of Obsession

I needed to leave.

My eyes snagged on the block of knives on the counter.

I craned my neck and peered down the length of the short hallway. Mom’s door was ajar.

Stepping closer to the counter, I cocked my head to the side. The voices grew louder until I couldn’t shut them out. Screaming like demons in my head.

Slice her throat and watch her bleed out.

I braced my hands on the counter and dropped my chin to my chest, clenching my jaw. “Stop it.”

Slaughter her. She has hit you for the last time.

“Shut up.”

Do it!

“Shut. Up.” The muscles in my neck strained, my teeth grinding together viciously. “Just shut up.”

She has forced you to fuck her for the last time. KILL HER!

“FUCK OFF!” I screamed, pushing off the counter and pressing my hands to my ears. “JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Soft footsteps padded closer, and Mom came walking around the corner, looking at me uncertainly. My T-shirt swamped her skinny body, and I hated myself at that moment, seeing her dressed in my clothes.

I hated her.

Why the fuck had I been born? What kind of a cruel God would put his ‘children’ through this kind of hardship while a lucky few got to sip martinis on their yachts in the Caribbean?

“Are you coming back to bed?”

The knives behind me called me closer. My bare feet inched backward, sliding over the scratchy rug.

Stab her.

“Baby?”

Since when did I replace Dad?

“Stop calling me that.” I curled my fingers around the edge of the counter behind me and closed my eyes.

The voices grew louder, more insistent.

She’s a whore who deserves to die. She never loved you. You’re a hard cock, nothing more. She’s not a mother. Never was.

A hard slap to my cheek jolted me back into the present moment, and Mom snarled, “Get back into bed, Robbie.”

When I didn’t move, she smacked me again, harder this time, and I took it, fighting every instinct inside that roared at me to sink a knife into her chest. Cut her to fucking pieces.

My cheek stung with her next blow. Then she clawed me, drawing blood. Still, I did nothing.

Mom began to laugh—a cold, cruel sound that haunted my nightmares. “Oh, look at you.”

My eyes flew open when her hand curled around my cock.

“So hard.”

Breathing through the rising anger, the putrid hatred that singed every vein in my body, I stayed quiet. Mom noticed the flaring of my nostrils, but I didn’t wait around for her to slip her hand inside my boxers.