Treck

For a start, I woke up. I'm alive, well and my head is throbbing. This day is starting off greatly!! I sighed irritatingly. At least the demon isn't here. I don't know what I'd do if he were here to agitate the crap out of me. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the silence of my small but comfortable room. Suddenly, a loud clank pierced through the silence, followed by a shriek I knew too well.

I spoke too soon.

"TRECK! WAKE. UP! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE YOU OLD FART." Iris's obnoxious voice practically pushed me to get up. This child...

"ALRIGHT! SHUT UP YOU TINY TROLL." I felt my eye twitch in annoyance. I stomped out of my room with a sudden urge to lock my sister in a soundproof room full of spiders. Ooooh she hates those things.

I entered the living room and spotted the little midget I have for a sister. The sweet smell of bacon coming from the very nearby kitchen momentarily distracted me from my goal. Although it tempted me to sit my ass down and eat, I had a mission to accomplish.

I walked around the couch where Iris was seated. She was sprawled across the entire couch, taking up a half of it. For an 8-year-old, she's pretty tiny. I grinned a Cheshire-cat-like grin and took a hold of the bottom of the couch.

With an effortless lift, Iris went tumbling down, shrieking and landing with a loud thump! I was laughing my ass off. Fast, angry thumps bounded up on me and I was met with a foot to my face. Scratch that. A bad smelling foot clad in a very very very pink, sparkly sock. I can just taste the glitter.

"You. Are. A. Meanie!" With each step, I got a fresh mouthful of stinky glitter shoved into my face.

"Get your smelly pink glitter vomit foot out of my face." I gasped for a breath once she stopped. It may be because of inhaling a newly discovered stink bomb or because of laughing so much. I choose the former.

"Ughhh now my butt hurts! I have ballet classes, you know!" she whined, stomping off to the kitchen where mom was cooking.

I chuckled and started after her. "I know."

I sighed. These days are honestly so relieving. Dad isn't here to keep us on our toes and we could just have fun, like what a normal family would do. We would all be smiling like the happy family we once were.

I sat down on one of the four chairs of our little round table. Mom placed down a plate of bacon and eggs before me and I smiled thankfully at her. She smiled back but something was off about it.

She ruffled my hair. "Eat, Treck. You didn't eat last night."

"Yeah, thanks, mom." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Mom, are you alright? You seem off."

She shook her head. "It's nothing, dear. I'm just tired," she reassured but I don't think I feel all too reassured. I hate pushing but she honestly looks so upset. There are bags under her eyes and they're kind of red and puffy. Has she been...crying?

"Mom, you can tell me anything. I know there's something wrong." I turned my body towards her fully and looked up at her with concern. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

She sighed, defeated. That was quick. "It's your father," she muttered, hugging herself. My eyes widened in anger and I could feel my blood boil. What the hell does that bastard want this time? Wasn't last night enough?

"What did he-" I started but was quickly cut off by a hand on my shoulder. Mom shook her head. I shut up immediately. Mom looks so...broken. She's trapped, she doesn't know what to do.

"Just eat, Treck. You'll be late for school. We can talk about this later."

Defeated, I nodded and ate my food in silence.

I guess this day wasn't one of those coffee ones.

---

School was the same. Same boring classes. Same boring students. Same boring everything. Well, it was sort of interesting.

Oh, who am I kidding?

Everything interesting happened. And believe it or not, interesting was Rachelle Umber. The plainest girl in the whole school was the most interesting one of the day. What a surprise.

Calculus was hectic. She started screaming and getting mad and cursing. It was gold! It was actually amusing to see the good girl break. Not so perfect anymore, Rachelle Umber.

She ran out of there looking like she was about to throw up. Oh my god, this day has been a roller coaster.

I went home by foot today and didn't go to work. I'm sure Emily and Tyler will understand. Heart thumped in my chest even if I wasn't nervous. I mean, I don't think I'm nervous but I guess my body doesn't feel the same way.

I stepped inside our house and walked down the halls to my parents' bedroom, Well, my mom's bedroom. It was eerily silent. I felt the pressure in the air and I felt the hairs on my skin stand up. I knocked on her bedroom door and called for her but didn't get an instant reply so I decided to just walk in. I twisted the doorknob and slowly peeked in. The room was enveloped in darkness and I could barely make up the shaking figure on the bed. I threw the door open and rushed to my crying mother, helplessly curled into a ball. I held her in my arms and rubbed her arms, trying my best to comfort her.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I softly asked, doing my best to be delicate. She sniffed and wiped at her tear-filled eyes.

"I-I'm sorry for letting y-you see m-me like this, Treck," she apologized even if there was nothing she was supposed to apologize for. She whimpered and hugged herself tighter. My heart clenched at the sight.

"Mom...why the hell are you saying sorry? You have no reason to be sorry." I caressed her hair and she sat up straighter.

"Yes, I do," she started, disregarding my use of words. "I have every right to be sorry. You and Iris don't deserve this. You and Iris don't deserve to be in so much pain at such a young age. You don't deserve the need to take care of your pathetic mother. You don't deserve to be abused by your father. Both of you deserve to be properly loved and cared for. I'm already failing in protecting the both of you and now you're holding me even if I'm the one who's supposed to be strong. What kind of mother am I? I'm... a horrible one. I'm failing as a mother," she cried, heartbroken. I just held her in my arms. Damn my lack of comforting.

We sat in silence until it was broken by a heart-wrenching mutter my other uttered. "Your father wants a divorce." At first, a sudden wave of happiness washed over me and I opened my mouth to let out words of happiness and excitement but what she said next shut me up.

"She also wants custody over Iris."

My body went cold and I froze in my place. My body momentarily stopped functioning and all the air felt like it was knocked out of me. A deadly silence filled the dark abyss that is my mom's room until it got cut by a growl emitting from my mouth. My eyes flared with pure anger and disgust.

"...What?" I asked, my tone low and dark.

"Treck, calm down. Don't lash out," Mom warned, holding onto my arm as if she was holding me down.

"Calm down? Calm down?! How can I calm down, mom! That bastard wants to take my sister! Do you know what he could do to her!? Why the hell does he want to take my sister away from us? We're giving him all the money he needs! Why can't he just divorce you and leave us alone!" My voice boomed I could practically feel my blood boil. My eyes flared with pure hatred and fury. I slipped away from my mother's hold and sat at the edge of the bed. My hands were balled into fists and I could feel blood seeping out from the cuts I inflicted on myself from my sharp nails. It stung but the thought that my rat of a father wants to take my sister from us.

Mom reached out to me and held onto my arms but that did nothing to calm me down. "I know, Treck. I don't exactly like the idea as well but you have to calm down. Anger won't solve anything."

"Crying doesn't exactly do much either, mom," I seethed. Mom seemed to falter for second but quickly picked herself up and squeezed my arm a little harder.

"I know, but you're doing it too." Sure enough, I felt tears slowly making their way down my face. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop more tears from coming out but they spilled down my pale cheeks even faster.

I shook my head. "We can't let him take her. There has to be another way."

To my dread, Mom shook her head in defeat. My eyes flared up all over again. Staring down mom in rage I lowly said, "What the hell?"

"You're just going to give her up, just like that..?" I lowly whispered but it was just enough for her to hear."

"I don't want to but-"

"Then don't do it! It's simple! We'll find another way! Why are you giving up so easily?" I stared my mother down and waited for something, anything to come out of her mouth that signaled some sort of plan or apology or anything! Anything but what came out of her mouth.

"We can't do anything else, Treck!" she cried, a sob mixing into her words. "I want to do something, I really do but I can't. We can't run away. Your father is the one that owns this house. If we run away, we could end up without a place to live and eventually die. Besides, he'll probably find us. He needs us for money, remember? He's not going to let us go so easily..."

"Then we practically own this place! We're technically the ones paying for it right?"

Sadly, she shook her head once again. "The people we're paying don't know that."

"I call bullcrap."

"Treck," Mom said warningly.

"What? That makes absolute crap!" I sighed. "Can't we just report him to the officials for abuse?"

"We don't have any proof."

"Then what the hell are we going to do? We're not just giving him Iris, right? You wouldn't do that to us. Right?"

Unfortunately, Mom shook her head for the nth and hung her head in shame. My gaze hardened and I forcefully pulled my arm from her grasp. I stood up and made my way to the door. I twisted the knob and opened it but turned around to face my mother.

"You're right. You are a horrible mother."

Then I left.

---

I slammed my bedroom door shut as if to say that I was furious. I was furious. I was more than furious. I felt betrayed. I felt conflicted. I felt...trapped.

Tears of anger threatened to spill out from my eyes but it wasn't until I was curled up in a corner of my room did I allow them to freely flow down my face. My heart ached as I gritted my teeth and held my arms closer to myself.

Why?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

How could she just say that? Why would she give up so easily? Why would she give Iris up so easily? Did she not love her? Does she not love us?!

I grabbed the closest thing next to me and threw it against the wall in front of me. Apparently, it was a plastic teacup. Iris must have been here this morning.

Iris.

I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed. I clutched a handful of hair into my fists and pulled. I could feel a few strands come out.

Iris is just a little girl, she can't defend herself. Who knows what that bastard could do with her. He might abuse her, boss her around, or...

A chocked sob erupted from my throat and more followed after. I don't my little sister in the hands of our horrible father. I don't want her to waste her childhood. I don't want her to be in pain. I want to protect her for as long as I can. I want her to be happy. But apparently, mom doesn't want that.

I turned around and punched the wall, numbing my fist momentarily until it stung with pain. Blood coated my knuckles but it didn't hurt. What hurt was the fact that my own mother, the only other person I thought I could trust, was betraying us.

Aw, mommy issues, dear?

A little girl's voice echoed throughout my mind and I shot up in my place. "W-who's there?" I sputtered, standing up and getting into a defending position.

Hey hey, no need to get feisty bud. I'm your friend.

"I don't have any friends'" I replied. Why the hell am I replying to a voice in my head?

Well, now you have one! Now tell me, you havin' issues there?

I scowled. "Why would I tell you? You aren't even real." I'm crazy, I'm crazy, I am freaking crazy.

Crazy? Oh no no no! You aren't crazy. I'm just your subconscious, here to help you out and make the right decisions.

"Why does my subconscious sound like a little girl?" I lowered my fists and reluctantly sat back down again in the corner I once was.

Beats me, but I'm cool! And I'm real, in your mind.

"You aren't some kind of...ghost?"

I can't move things around dear. Like I said, I'm just here to give you some advice.

I hesitated and thought for a while. If she said that she would give me advice, would she really? And what's her name? As I opened my mouth to speak, she cut me off and replied to every thought I had.

I do give advice, good advice. I promise. And my name is Chloey.

"I didn't even say anything, how did you answer right away?" A sudden wave of realization hit me and I thought of something to prove my theory right.

Can you hear what I'm thinking?

She giggled.

You're the smarter one, aren't you?

I got confused as to why she said that but asked, more like thought, again.

Can you hear what I'm thinking?

Yes, I can.

Weird. I can even feel her smile in my head. Maybe she is in my subconscious.

What advice are you talking about...?

I'm glad you asked! You're having some...issues right now, am I correct?

I nodded.

Well, I may have a way to fix it!

Fix it? How? Mom has made up her mind. What the hell can I do?

A lot more than you think, Treck. Now, do you agree to heed my advice?

I was hesitant. I don't know what she could do and to be honest, I'm kind of afraid to find out. I can't just trust her but she said that she was my subconscious. She's my subconscious but it feels like she has a mind of her own.

Just trust me!

I flinched at the intensity of her words. What the hell? Don't screech in my head!

She giggled.

Sorry. Now, do you trust me?

By some invisible force, my body betrayed me and nodded. My eyes widened in realization. "Wait, no-!"

Great! Now here's my advice: we kill your father!

"What!? No! Absolutely not!"

Says the one who's talking to their own subconscious.

"You're talking to me! And I thought you were supposed to give me good advice. You're crazy." I shook my head as if to further my point.

I'm a part of you~ If you say that I'm crazy, you're crazy too!

This put me in deeper thought. She's right.

I am~

Oh, shut up.

She's right. If I call her crazy, I'm calling myself crazy. Since she, this voice of a little girl in my head is my subconscious, what she said reflects on my inner thoughts. It reflects what I really want to do. The fact that she said to kill my father? Is that what I want to do, deep, deep down?

Like I said, I'm your subconscious! So stop doubting me, I'm just your inner self, telling you to finally do something!

For the umpteenth time, I hesitated. But the difference was...I actually agreed to it willingly.

---

[Constructive criticism, anyone? ]

11/21/17