Page 18 of Sour (The Wellard Asylum #10)

“Ahh!” I sliced my arm along the edge of the broken glass, reaching around until I was able to unlock the trailer door. Blood dripped down my arm as I pushed the door open and raced inside, stepping past the glass. “Momma?” She didn’t reply.

No.

I raced to my momma’s room, filled with dread.

“Don’t touch her!” I shouted, the sound of my own heartbeat pounding within my ears.

“Don’t you fucking touch her, Erek! Momma!

” I turned the corner and stopped at the door of her room.

It was shut. “Momma?” I tried to open it, but it was locked.

“No. Open the door. Open this fucking door! Erek!” I screamed and shouted, calling out for my momma while hitting the door.

“Momma!” My throat burned and ached. “Erek! Open the fucking door, you bastard!”

And just like that, the door unlocked and gently swung open. My stepfather stood there, still wearing his fucking police uniform, smiling like he was some kind of demonic hero.

I glared up at him, panting, frightened beyond belief. “What did you do to my momma?”

He didn’t answer.

“Erek…what did you do?”

The man simply smiled.

I pushed him aside and stepped into the room to find my momma’s body still, a pillow over her face.

My heart shattered. “No,” I whimpered. “Momma?” I slowly approached her bed, tears rolling down my cheeks as I lifted the pillow and screamed.

“Momma!” I cried and shouted, crumbling onto her corpse as if my tears and pain would somehow revive her.

“No! Wake up, Momma. Wake up!” I shook her body, hoping this was all some sick nightmare. “Momma!”

I hated my stepfather and everything he’s ever done, but this…this was pure evil. He knew my momma was the only good thing in my dark world. But now, she was gone. He took her away from me.

“What a shame,” Erek breathed. I glared at him, watching as he carelessly lit a cigarette. “Now, get your ass in the kitchen and make me some dinner, girl. While you’re in there, crack me open a cold one, will you? I’ve had a long, hard day.” He blew a cloud of smoke in my direction.

Tears burned my eyes as I glared up at him. “You.” I slowly rose and walked towards the foot of the bed. “You killed her,” I growled. “You killed my momma!”

Erek grimaced with the cigarette in hand. “You killed her, Koven. By trying to run away. Her death is your fault, no one else’s.”

My face burned with such raw and uncontrollable anger. “No. No, you killed her! You did!” He didn’t wear any remorse or care. “And I’m going to fucking tell everyone exactly what kind of monster you are.”

A glimpse of a reaction flickered across his face.

“Who are you going to tell? Your momma’s dead and your sperm donor is probably strung out in some ditch with a needle in his arm.

I’m your only family left. Me. Without me, you have no one, Koven.

And nowhere to go.” He smiled. “And with a reputation like yours, no one will believe a word you say, girl.”

Thunder rolled in the distance as a storm began to brew overhead.

Girl. That’s what Erek had always called me, despite the fact that I was a fucking grown adult.

I’d been stuck here in this godforsaken trailer, forced to care for my dying momma alone, desperately clinging to my stepbrother for any kind of life or reprieve from this fucker.

But now, my momma was dead. And Ziggy wasn’t here. It was just me and Erek.

I shook my head. “No. That’s where you’re wrong, Erek. My momma might be gone, but so is any tie you had keeping me here. I’m leaving. I don’t need you. And I have Ziggy.”

My stepfather ruptured into laughter as rain began to tap against the flimsy trailer roof.

“That kid can’t even get his own life together.

What the fuck is he going to do for you?

” He laughed some more, watching me closely.

“I–I have a job that pays for this roof over your head and the food in your belly! I have a gun and can protect you. And I—” His eyes fell, noticing the smiley face tattoo on my hand.

Erek raised his finger and pointed to it.

“Ziggy’s got one just like that.” He stared at my hand, visibly trying to connect the pieces.

His smile quickly fell. “Wait.” Erek moved towards me, lifting my hand.

He traced the tattoo with his finger and stared down into my soul.

“Why do you and Ziggy have matching tattoos, Koven?”

I didn’t answer.

“What could that boy possibly do for you, that I—your daddy—can’t?” He stepped closer, dropping my hand. “Huh? Answer me!” He slapped me across the face.

My cheek burned from his hand.

“He cares for me,” I whispered.

The grown, overweight man made a face. “Cares for you? Ha! Ziggy doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. He never has.”

“That’s not true.” I sniffled.

Erek frowned. “Oh really? Does Ziggy pay for you to live here? Does he bust his ass to make sure you don’t wind up on the street like your own daddy?

No. His bitch ass doesn’t care for you the way I do.

” He grabbed my arms and I began to claw him off of me.

“Does he care for you as I do, girl? Huh?” My stepfather violently shook me. No one cares for you like I do!”

“Get off of me!” I pushed Erek back.

My face must’ve told him what he needed to hear because he immediately stopped.

“He does, doesn’t he?” He smoked his cigarette and looked me up and down.

“Oh, you dirty little bitch.” I clutched my arms close, cowering into myself.

“You dirty, vile, fucking little slut!” He hit me again, knocking me onto the bed.

My mother’s corpse bounced from the impact.

“You’re whoring yourself to him, aren’t you?

” I crawled backwards a little, trying to get away from him, but he kept closing in on me.

“You think you can just spread your legs for anyone? Huh?” He hit me again and again, ignoring my cries and pleas. “You fucking slut! You junkie whore!”

My face ached and throbbed, my body screaming as Erek continued to beat me. I wanted him to stop, begged him too, but with each blow, my body was weakening. I couldn’t focus enough to move, let alone fight him.

“Erek, stop!” I shouted. “Please!”

My stepfather pulled away, grunting and struggling to breathe. “I’m getting real sick of your attitude, girl.” He glared down at me. “I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

No.

I struggled to watch as my stepfather quickly shut the bedroom door.

No.

He returned to the bed and unlatched his belt, ripping it from his pants, unbuttoning them as he walked closer to the foot of the bed.

No!

The cigarette burned between Erek’s lips.

He wasted no time and grabbed my legs, yanking me towards him.

“No!” I shouted, trying to break free. He ignored me and yanked harder, forcing my body around and securing my wrists behind my back with his belt.

Tears poured from my eyes as I tried to fight back, but Erek forcefully shoved my face down making it land against my momma’s leg.

I was in so much pain, only partially lucid from Erek’s beating.

I begged him to stop, cried for him to let me go, but it only seemed to make him want me more.

“Erek, please,” I cried into her dead flesh as he pulled his pants farther down. “Please!” My stepfather pulled my pants down and spread my legs wide, despite being drunk. “Please!” I wriggled around shouting for help.

“Shut up!” He slapped my face again, cutting my cries. “You made me do this,” he huffed, pressing the lit end of his cigarette into my inner thigh. I silently screamed and gasped at the burn. “You made me do this! All of this!”

Stop fighting. The more you fight, the more he’ll hurt you. Let him use you.

“I can't have you walking out on me, girl.” Erek shuffled closer. “Now, try to be a good girl for me.” He violently began to rub his shaft, working himself up until he was ready to rape me. “Oh yes. Daddy’s good little girl,” he moaned, pushing his dick inside me.

I disconnected from my body and focused all my existence on the peeling wallpaper of the bedroom. I studied every detail, staring into the faded color of it for what felt like an eternity.

Let him use you.

My stepfather continued to abuse me, grunting and thrusting like a pig. I lay there, unable to fight or make a sound, and simply took it. Like I always did. Like I always fucking did.

Let. Him. Use. You.

Seconds felt like hours, bleeding into years. I listened to the small rainstorm fade into a thunderstorm, counting to myself as I stared at the wallpaper, crying silently to myself.

One hundred two. One hundred three. One hundred four. One hundred—

The sound of the trailer door suddenly squeaking open caught my attention. My stepfather heard it as well, freezing while still inside me. We both listened as familiar footsteps walked around the trailer.

Ziggy.

My heart leapt.

“What the—Hey Skittles, where you at?” he shouted from the other side of the trailer. I glanced back at Erek, his eyes burning into mine as he shook his head. “Skittles?” Ziggy called again.

I knew if I screamed, Ziggy would hear me. And in that moment, I decided to stop letting Erek use me.

“Zigg—” My stepfather instantly pulled out his gun and held it to my face, cutting off my voice.

Fuck!

All the confidence and independence I felt immediately melted away as I stared at Erek, trembling in terror. He smiled, lifted his finger to his mouth, and silently shooshed me.

“Skittles?”

Thunder boomed in the sky above and the power in the trailer flickered. Erek and I stared at the ceiling, watching as the power cut, leaving us in darkness. And with that, he returned to abusing me, his gun still pressed against my face.