Chapter 12

„No!" My mother yelled in a strangely high voice with horror on her face. „Get this beast out of my house!" It was hard not to laugh and Ailish's mouth was twitching too. My mother stared at the cat as if it were Satan and not just a pet. But maybe the Lord of Darkness was better off than an animal in her eyes. At least it doesn't shed hair. Or... Who knows?

„It's just an innocent kitten, Mom!" Ailish said, trying not to roll her eyes. I could have argued with the harmless part because of the scratches but I thought it best if I remain silent.

„Innocent?" She howled. „It's not! It will jump up on the table, eat our food, shed fur everywhere, get fleas, and end up giving birth to more cats." Of course. As bad as the apocalypse.

My little sister was not embarrassed, she just checked the cat's private parts. My mouth started to tremble but I held back the laughter. Ailish hummed and the cat growled, resenting the undignified treatment.

„I think it's a male cat." She stated. „So he won't have kittens. If that happens, this world is a stranger place than I thought."

„Please, Mother!" I started convincing her too. „He won't cause you any trouble. You won't even see him, I will keep him in my room."

„In your room?" She asked horrified. „Cats have no place in a room. They are not potty trained."

„He will be." I tried to reassure her. „Look at him!" I took the cat out of Ailish's hands and I shoved it under my mother's nose, who quickly stepped back. „Could you put it out in the rain?" This cat was a very cunning one because he tried his best to look pitiful. My mother's face softened.

„Fine." She wasn't happy about it, but she accepted. „He can stay. But if he comes too close to me or I catch him eating anything other than cat food, he has to go." With this, she left us and we grinned at each other. Success!

„What should we call him?" My sister was thinking out loud.

„Apocalypse?" I said without much thinking. She considered it for a while, then shrugged.

„Okay, but I will call him Calypse." She headed for the house, then stopped and turned around towards me. „I bring my math homework."

„I said I will help, not that I will do it instead of you." I looked at her indignantly. „It's not the same."

„How sad." She murmured and went into the house not caring much about what I told her. That is the sister I love and cherish.

I was sitting in my room, just finishing Ailish's homework. She really knows how to make a good deal. I put away her books and exercise books and took out my notebook. Should I continue my journey through Hell? Because each remembrance is like walking its streets.

I am still trying to convince myself that many people have it worse than me and it could have been much worse for me as well. That many people have more right to... to feel pain? Does anyone have the right to feel pain? I don't think so. Pain is pain. It cannot be measured. But whenever I feel sorry for myself I remember that I am not the most miserable in the world. Some people endure much more with dignity than I do. Why am I whining then? I have never been raped. But still... Living in fear every day that it can happen... It truly messes up your nerves.

I was afraid each day when my mother wasn't at home or worked at night. When I was alone with Seth. The lock didn't work on my door and still doesn't. He could come in anytime and I was horrified he would. That he will cross the line. I have never known what will be his next step or if he will take any. I couldn't prepare myself. Never. It came unexpectedly every time and I froze each occasion. In fear or in disgust? Both? I don't know.

I learned to stay alert and I wake up at every little noise. My hearing became quite sharp during this time. Perhaps that's why I hate loud speech and wince at it.

I think he enjoyed it. Not only that he could torture me, but also that he always struck when I least expected it. One of his little amusements was to open my door slightly and he peeked into my room. My bed was very close to the door so it was impossible not to notice. He often stood naked in front of my door. I pretended not to see it. I don't know if he knew I was playing blind or not.

Once he came in and asked if I liked it or not. I asked back what. Of course, I knew. There were plenty of things we knew but didn't say. He knew it, I knew it. The only question was which one of us would break first and stop pretending. In the end, it never happened.

After asking this question he didn't leave my room. My memory is a bit hazy here. The next thing I remember is asking "What do you want?" Or maybe "What are you doing?" I remember the answer, it chilled me to the bone. He said, "I want to grab your ass." I couldn't hold back a bitter smile.

It scared me like never before. I think I pushed him away but I am not sure. The next thing I remember was him asking me "Please don't tell Mother." With that, he left my room, but the terror didn't leave me. After all, he could come back anytime. My heart was beating so loudly that I couldn't hear anything else. I gripped my phone to my chest as if it could have protected me. I went to bed but I didn't put down my phone. I fell asleep while holding it.

I was immensely relieved in the morning. I think he calmed down a bit after that night, but not completely. He never stopped. Not until I killed him.

I am certain some people would condemn, and despise me, and who knows what else they would think or do because I never told anyone. But this is something hard or maybe impossible to understand if you haven't experienced it yourself. And it is better that way for that person. It's something I would never wish for anyone. The constant fear and uncertainty, the doubts, the pretending, the fake smiles, the hidden hate, the intentional blindness, and the mask I had to wear. None of these.

And I don't ask for understanding. I won't ask for anything but to leave me alone. I don't need anything else. I need to get Rhys to understand this. I don't want anything from him; he shouldn't want anything from me either. For his own sake, and my own as well. I don't know what he wants, but he won't get it anyway. Love is... Funny... But he is not in love with me! This soon... Impossible! Anyway... I don't believe in... Love? Or I don't believe that anyone can love me? Or maybe I don't believe I have the ability to love anyone? It might be stupid, but I feel like Seth took away my ability to love.

Love is certainly something that exists. But not in my world. If someone doesn't see any example of love, can they recognize it later? I don't even know if my parents loved each other or not. Mother didn't like to talk about it. I have no idea if it was because it hurt her or if there was another reason. As for Seth's father, I don't think he loved my mother. Then he wouldn't have just left like that. And Mother never showed that it was painful for her. But maybe she was just pretending to be okay so we wouldn't worry about her. After all, we can never be sure what is in another person's heart. Sometimes we don't even know our hearts. We are afraid of what we would find if we took a better look. And if we only know ourselves on the surface, how could we get to know someone else on a deeper level?

The darkness is there. In everyone's hearts. In their soul. In deep and in hiding. Many people are afraid of it and that's why they don't even touch it. I am not scared. I'm terrified. Because what if I find something so horrible that I cannot handle it? I'd rather live a lie than not live at all. Life is life after all.

Does the person who kills the monster also become a monster? How could I be better than him? But still, I don't want to wake up one day and find that he's moulded me in his own image. I don't want to take pleasure in torturing, humiliating, and abusing others. I don't want to wake up one day and discover that I have become someone I have never wanted to be. Someone like Seth. If I ever do in the future what he did... I think that would be the end of it. I would kill myself without hesitation. If looking deeply into myself and inspecting every single centimeter I would find even an ounce of desire to do anything like him... It would execute me. So I just don't do it. I'm not looking, I'm not searching. Ignorance is better in this case. Certain knowledge is the only thing that really hurts.

The more we see or know, the more disgusted and unhappy we become. Happiness. Such a remote word. Similar to joy, yet very different. Joy is momentary, fragile, and volatile. It only lasts for a short time. In contrast, happiness... Happiness is a long-term thing. Solid, yet untouchable. It wafts around like a rare perfume that everyone can smell and radiates from a person like sunlight. And maybe just as bright. It may have the ability to blind you.

It's sad to think that I have never been happy and I don't think I ever will be. I know joy, I know what is it but happiness... Something as distant as Saturn, Uranus, or Neptune. Or another Solar System. And just as volatile as a dream, hallucination, or mirage. A bit like the wind. It's around me, I can sense it but cannot grab or trap it.

Joy is like a butterfly. Sometimes it flies to us, then moves away and leaves us there. It lands on the tip of our noses and deceives us. We think that it will stay with us for a long time, and when we least expect it, it already left us.

I wonder how many people can spot the difference? How many of them convince themselves that they are actually happy? At least, I don't deceive myself. Regarding this. I wonder how many people live like they're really alive? And they don't just pretend that. What does it even mean to "live"?

I think life is a dream, pain is reality, happiness is an illusion and death is the moment of awakening. Bitter awakening from a chaotic, long dream. Some probably want to wake up. And others find this dream so sweet that they want to sleep forever. After all, everyone dreams differently and about different things. And no one can know when and how their dream will end.