Content Warning for chapter: Self harm

Class was over in a few minutes, which helped kick my will to do any work right out the window. That also meant I had no distraction to help with the ‘pretend none of this happened’ thing.

 

Pretending we’re not here won’t make us go away.

After class, we should wait outside for Robbie.

Find out what’s going on with him and his anima.

 

Mr. Roland spoke up as the bell rang, “Alright, class. Don’t forget your projects are due this coming Monday. You may take your chairs home for the weekend if you’re not finished yet.”

I rushed out of the room and stood off to the side, waiting for Robbie. Usually I’d live for this, but it was just suffocating right now.

Either he didn’t see me when he jogged out of class, or he ignored me. Either way, it wouldn't stop me from finding out what the hell happened in his meeting.

 

He probably believes his anima can stop us.

Prove him wrong.

 

The bus could leave without me for all I cared, since right now I was sneaking down the sidewalk behind Robbie. Either I was a freaking ninja, or Robbie had the awareness of a rock, since he never once looked behind him. The moment there wasn’t a single person around, I broke out into a sprint and grabbed his shoulder to stop him. With a tight grip, “We’re going to have a little talk about what the hell happened in that meeting.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Robbie said as he kept his eyes forward and tried to walk off, but I pulled him back next to me.

“You’ve got plenty to say. Tell me what happened.”

“I didn’t tell him anything about what you did,” Robbie said, standing up straight and with a slightly less wimpy voice, like he was some sorta big shot now.

 

We think he’s telling the truth.

At the same time, he avoided our question.

Find out what he’s hiding.

 

“You didn’t answer my question," I said.

“I told you that I didn’t say anything to him.”

I shook his shoulder and pulled him closer, “I’m already sick of hearing that. Tell me what you said to him or I’ll beat it out of you.” I leaned down to his eye level, “and you know I will.”

His eyes lowered, but he didn’t say anything.

 

He’s hiding something, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to tell us.

Let’s walk him home.

 

“Fine then, we’re going for a walk,” I said, dragging Robbie with me down the sidewalk. His struggle to get free was useless with that clunky 'chair' he carried. It was, however, much easier to drag him around.

 

We’re going to be late getting home.

We should call Mom.

 

I took out my phone and called home while my grip on Robbie stayed tight.

...

“Hello, Sweetie, is everything okay?” Mom asked.

“Yes Ma’am. I wanted to ask if it’s okay if I’m late today.” Robbie looked up at me as we stood there.

“That’s fine. Is everything okay?”

“Yes Ma’am, I made plans with a friend,” I said, tugging on Robbie’s shoulder.

“A friend? That’s wonderful. Is it that same one from yesterday?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

There was whispering going on that I couldn’t make out, but it was probably Mom telling Emma I was ‘hanging out with that boy’ crap from yesterday.

“Of course it’s okay, and thank you for calling. If you need anything, just call, alright?”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I have to go now. I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

I hung up, happy that she gave the okay, but Robbie stared at me with a smile of all things. “Your mom doesn’t know what you’re like, does she?”

 

He’s begging for us to hurt him.

And change the subject.

If we talk about it then he could get something to use against us.

 

“Tell me about whatever the hell this anima thing is. I know he told you about that stuff, and you’re going to tell me exactly what happened.”

“Anima? Why would he talk to me about that stuff?”

And like that, I was done with his crap.

 

Take him into the alleyway first.

 

I moved my hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck to pull him down into a nearby alleyway. It was full of trash bags piled up against the wall and dirty as hell, but no one was going to come down here

 Robbie’s breathing sped up, his eyes shot all over the place, and even a little sweat built up on his forehead as we walked deeper.

Stopping in the middle of the alleyway, “Don’t think you can keep secrets from me.” I placed my free hand on his other shoulder and squeezed. “I’m the one in charge here. You got that? When I tell you to do something, you better do it you useless fucking mistake. You have one more chance. Tell me what happened.”

He turned his head to look me dead in the eyes, and smiled again.

“What the hell do you have to smile about?” I asked, holding back the urge to bash his face in.

 

We need to stay calm.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about with the anima stuff. I don’t even know why you think Mr. Roland would talk to me about that, but-” His smile grew even bigger. “You really want to know what we talked about in there?”
“Spit it out already.”

“He told me to smile when you bother me, because you wouldn’t enjoy it if I did.”

My heart skipped a beat and sank all in one motion.

 

Where the hell did Mr. Roland get that idea?

 

This isn’t good.

We won’t get anything out of this if we can’t get a reaction from him.

 

That just means I need to work harder to wipe that smile off his face.

 

I grabbed his chair and ripped it from his hands to let it fall to the ground. Before he could get a word in, I grabbed Robbie’s collar with both hands and pulled him close to me. “You think that’ll keep me from making your life a living hell? I can make you do whatever I want, and you won’t do a damn thing about it. You’re too much of a fucking coward, and that’s the one good thing about you.” I lifted him up enough to make him stand on his toes. “What does someone like you have to smile about?”

Robbie’s smile didn’t budge an inch as he grabbed my hands to try and pry them away. “I thought it was stupid, but it’s not like anything else is going to work,” he said with that big, cheap grin. Even if he put on the biggest smile, I knew fake smiles, and his eyes were lifeless.

“Mistakes like you shouldn’t try to smile when you can’t even fake one. Add that to the pile of reasons your family thinks you’re a fucking mistake.” I said, shoving him up to the wall.

“My family loves me,” Robbie said as he kept up the fake smile. Just looking at it put a lump in my throat.

“Why would anyone be happy with someone like you?” I kept my grip tight as I lowered myself to his eye level. “I bet you never realized how you being born fucked up your family's life. You think they’re happy they had you? They’re stuck with you.”

 

Ease it on the verbal attacks.

We only want to put him in his place.

We don’t want to push things too far.

 

This isn’t pushing things too fucking far.

 

That fake smile fell for a split second before being plastered back on.

“What? Are you happy your family is stuck looking after you?” My fists pushed against Robbie to pin him to the wall as I brought my mouth close to his ear. “Every time you go home, you better remember that they’re lying when they say they love you.”

His smile disappeared for longer, but he still tried to push that forced smile. “You don’t know the first thing about them,” he said as bubbling anger rose from his smile. “Just because your family hates you doesn’t mean mine doesn’t love me.”

“They don’t and you know it, but you still want to pretend? Fine.”

Letting go of him, I picked up his chair to throw it against the wall, but he grabbed on at the last second to stop me. It ended in us trying to pull it away from each other.

His smile finally disappeared as the wood began to splinter. “Give it back before you break it!” but a few seconds later, a loud snap sent us both stumbling back. Robbie with only an arm, and me with the rest. He stood there, looking at the piece of wood like he just lost a pet.

 

That look is something else.

We may have gone too far with this one.

 

I peeked at the pile of garbage near us. Without wasting time, I chucked it at the wall where it hit with a loud snap that broke one of the legs. It fell on top of the pile of trash. Exactly where it belonged.

 

Don’t take our eyes off Robbie.

 

What’s he going to do? He isn’t-

 

My vision went dark for a flash as pain shot through my face. Stumbling back, one hand gripped my forehead as my eyes shot to Robbie, putting his backpack on the ground. The stinging sent my hands shaking and forced my jaw so tight it could crush diamonds.

 

This is what happens when we don’t pay attention.

 

Robbie held the arm like it was a bat, and was already in mid-swing when I charged him. He hit me in the side, but I crashed into him to grab him, lift him up in the air, and slam his ass to the pavement.

 

Be careful!

That can seriously hurt him.

 

He’ll be fine.

 

I sat on top of him and grabbed the piece of wood to rip it out of his hands, but he held on like his life depended on it, even as he squirmed in pain. “You little fucking asshole! you think you’re big enough to hit me like that?”

“Yes!” he yelled. “I’m done letting you do whatever you want!”

“You’re not done until I tell you you’re done.” With one more jerk, I ripped the wood from him and tossed it aside.

His eyes had more fight in them than I’d ever seen as he reached out to my hair and pulled.

 

---

Dragged into my room by the hair, "I told you to stop acting out like this."

---

 

My eyes shot open as I grabbed his hands to pry them off me. “Let go of me!”

 

---

On my bed as my head’s pulled back.

---

 

“If you want me to stop then get off!” Robbie yelled, pulling even harder.

I stopped trying to pry his hands away and instead slammed my fist down on his face. Over and over. “Let go already!” I yelled. Not giving a damn anymore about how much I hurt him, I kept throwing fists. “What makes you think you’re anything more than a useless Fuck up! Stop trying to act like some big shot!”

 

Stop and look at our hands!

 

I froze at the sight of my blood smeared fists. My hands trembled, and he took that chance to pull me off him by my hair.

We both scrambled to our feet and stared at each other for a split second. He made the first move by grabbing his backpack and bolting away from me with a limp.

 

We got him off us and made him bleed.

Let him go.

 

Ignoring the voice in my head, I chased him down and grabbed his hood just before he made it out. Pulling him back deeper into the alleyway, “You like pulling hair? Fine!” I took hold of his hair to drag him down to the ground face first. Climbing onto his back, I pressed his face into the ground. He didn’t say anything, but he fought as much as he could to get out.

“How are you this stupid? If you fight back, then all I’m going to do is break more of your stuff,” I said, ripping the backpack from his hands.

 “Wait!” he yelled and stopped squirming. “Okay, I’ll do whatever you want. Just please. Put my bag down gently. Please...”

 

Whatever's in here must be really important if he’s willing to go that far.

We should give it back to him.

 

I held it up in front of his face, “So you want me to put this down gently?” He reached for it, but I jerked it out of reach. “You think I’m going to let you have this after you hit me with that fucking piece of wood? Not a chance.” I chucked the bag at the wall, where it hit with a cracking sound and fell next to the chair.

“No!” doubling down on crawling away from me and towards his bag. “Why!?” he yelled through tears. “What the fuck have I ever done to you!?”

 

We’re calling this here.

This had already gone too far, but this is sickening.

Get up and leave him be.

It was annoying that I couldn’t enjoy this, but he still hadn’t learned his lesson, so I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.

 

We’ve given him his lesson, now get off.

 

“You really pissed me off today. If you want to get out of here with your arm, then I want you to tell me how useless you are.”

“Fuck off!” he yelled as his voice broke up.

 

Don’t ignore us.

 

“Tell me what I want to hear, or we can stay here for as long as you want.” I switched between flicking and backhanding his head. Not to cause any pain, but to show I could.

He laid face down, so it took me a while to notice he was full on crying, but I still pushed his arm up, “Say you’re a mistake.”

“No! I’m not going to do what you want anymore!”

“Then you’re not going home for a long time.” I flicked the side of his head again.

 

Did we not hear us?

Leave.

 

Not until I get everything I want from him.

 

Even if he doesn’t say it, he knows we’re in charge.

We’re only going to tell ourselves to stop so many times before we take action.

Action that we would rather avoid.

 

I don’t care what some voice tells me to do. Robbie isn’t going anywhere, so stop trying to act like you can do anything to make me.

 

This is our final warning.

 

Or what? You still can’t do anything.

 

Can’t do anything?

This entire display has been disgraceful.

We’re truly sorry for this.

 

---

Crying in silent pain on my bed. My head is pulled back by my hair with his hand tight on my shoulder. He pressed his mouth to my ear and whispered.

“Tell me you’re a useless slut.”

---

 

I shot off Robbie and crawled back with my eyes glued to Robbie. He looked at me for a split second before he crawled to his feet and ran away, leaving everything behind.

 

---

“I’m a useless slut…”

“Say it five times in a row, and don’t fuck it up this time.”

---

 

 My back pressed up to the wall as forgotten memories flooded my head. Stunned into silence, my heartbeat sped up as I grabbed and rubbed my chest, but it did nothing to slow anything down.

 

---

“I’m a useless slut. I’m a useless slut. I’m- I’m a useless-”

He pulled my hair back.

“I didn’t tell you to fucking stutter you stupid bitch. Start again.”

---

 

I scrambled to my feet and ran the opposite way from where Robbie went. The burning in my chest did everything to bring me to my knees, but I pushed forward.

 

We were not bluffing.

Normally, we’d only get bits and pieces of flashbacks.

However, we can fill in every detail of those flashbacks if we desire.

Do not make us dig through more.

 

What I was doing wasn’t anything close to what he did! Don’t try to make it look the same because it’s not…

 

What we’ve been doing all this time has been mimicking what he did.

 

My legs gave out as I turned the corner, crawling the last few feet to sit against the wall. Once out of sight of Robbie, a pressure built up in my throat.

 

Shut the fuck up! I’m nothing like him and lots of people do that kinda stuff.

 

There isn’t a single other person we know of that does.

We were on top of him, pulling on his hair.

We tried to make him say something terribly degrading.

We likely would have pinned his shoulder down if we had a third arm.

 

My hand pressed against my mouth as the lump grew bigger.

 

Stop saying that! I’m nothing like him. I’m nothing at all like him…

 

I looked out to the distance and counted the first things I saw. Towers.

3...8...14...21…

 

We will wait until we’ve calmed down.

 

When I ran out of buildings, I moved onto counting lights.

13...26...34...48...51...

Even as I sat there and counted for god knows how long, the pain of my blood covered hands acted as a reminder of what I did. Each time a person walked by, I hid my hands and got weird looks, which added to the mountain of problems in front of me.

Sweat, numbness, tingling and everything else you could imagine rolled over me for well over an hour. All while doing everything in my power to keep from puking everywhere.

 

He could be seriously hurt.

 

Robbie’s fine. Stay out of this.

 

We have his blood on our hands.

He’s not fine.

 

I said he’s fine! He can handle a little beating like that. So just stop talking because you’re not real.

 

We are real and we will not stop.

He left his stuff behind.

The least we could do is bring them to him.

 

He’s the one that left all that stuff. He can get them himself.

 

Go get his things, or we can explore why we’ve been acting like father.

Pick one.

 

I sat there shaking, peeking over at the entrance to the alleyway.

 

So you’re blackmailing me now? So much for all that good stuff Mr. Roland talked about...

 

We are doing what needs to be done.

In order to improve, we can’t hide from our problems.

We’re giving ourselves a choice.

 

If only to make the voice shut up, I pulled myself up and crept up to the alleyway.

 

Maybe I did go overboard, but he’ll be fine. He probably already walked home, got cleaned up and learned his lesson that he can’t act all big when we do this. He’ll be fine and everything will go back to normal.

 

We’re not going to let us rationalize this.

That may have done serious damage, so we’re going to apologize.

We’re going to do whatever it takes to make it up to him.

 

I’m not rationalizing anything, I just-

 

Just what?

Just downplaying what we did to him to make ourselves feel better?

Because that sounds like rationalizing.

 

I peeked around the corner to see both his chair and bag still there.

 

Ha, so he finally decided to give up on that piece of- I can’t do this. I barely even enjoyed any of that. This entire thing was pointless...

 

This feeling is to be expected.

We could fix up his chair as well.

We need to show him we’re sorry for all of this.

 

I seriously doubt that’s going to do anything.

 

It’d be a start.

Now quit complaining and go get the chair and bag.

 

I don’t even know where he lives.

 

We can hold onto it until Monday.

It’s better than leaving it here when the bag was so important to him.

 

If it’s so important, then why didn’t he take it with him?

 

He clearly wanted to get out of there as fast as possible after what we did to him.

It’s surprising that he even took the time to look at us before rushing off.

 

I walked up to his stuff with a sigh and put the bag on his chair to carry home.

 

Alright, fine.

 

Pain shot through my hands as I picked it up, but I forced myself to tough it out and made my way back home.

 

+++

‘I’m just like father.’-

‘Pushing things more and more.’

+++

 

The pressure on my throat returned, and every passing thought made it worse.

 

+++

‘How long until even what just happened isn’t enough?’

+++

 

My walking slowed to a crawl.

 

+++

‘How long until I start doing exactly what father did?’

+++

 

My crawl came to a stop.

 

Don’t listen to those thoughts.

We’d never go that far.

However, we realize we can’t keep this up anymore.

This guilt and what we’re doing to him.

We’ve reached, and passed the limit of what’s acceptable.

 

I know...

 

If we know, then it’s time we stop trying to use Robbie to make us feel better.

 

Wait, you want to stop completely? Just like that? What happened to you telling me to go after him?

 

That was before we bloodied his face and pushed him so far to break down crying like that.

You saw and heard how much we got to him.

Yet we didn’t get anything out of it.

And we don’t know if he’s badly hurt.

If we keep pushing further, then there’s a real possibility of putting him in the hospital.

Assuming we haven’t already.

 

I got a better grip of the chair and made my way back home again.

 

So what, I should find someone else for a bit?

 

Is that really the conclusion we reached?

If so, then even we underestimated how much help we need.

 

Hey! I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas, so don’t talk to me like that.

 

That’s because this is a complicated matter, but we can’t go on with Robbie like this.

If we go after someone else, then it will lead to the same situation.

But for now, we have a more pressing matter to deal with.

How are we going to explain our hands to Emma and Mom?

 

I would have dug my face into my hands if I wasn’t carrying this chair, because god damn did I not need to deal with that right now.

 

I’ll just hide them until they heal.

 

Emma’s smarter and more perceptive than we give her credit for.

 

I give her plenty of credit.

 

Then we should know she’ll see right through us.

She’ll find out the moment she suspects something.

 

Well what the hell do you want me to do about it? It’s not like I can wear gloves all day, and that’s the only thing I can think of.

 

Then we’ll need to explain why our hands are all cut up.

 

I know you already have an idea, Mrs. Answer For Everything, so just spit it out.

 

Not for this one we’re afraid.

Emma’s too good for us.

We’re simply going to have to wing it.

 

I really don’t like hearing that.

 

Like it or not, that’s the only option.

 

With a sigh, I kept moving on and hoped everything would work itself out.

The moment I saw my house I moved as fast as my legs could carry me to the garage. Opening the door, I put his project on the center workbench and stared at it for a moment.

 

How the hell am I gonna fix this?

 

We can deal with that later.

We need to wash the blood off our hands.

Then we need to hide the backpack.

If they see it, then they’ll ask questions.

 

Walking around to the water hose, I cleaned up as best I could and dried my hands on my shirt. After I was all cleaned up, I took his bag and stuffed it out of sight under the table.

When I made it to the front door, I took a deep breath and opened it up to see Emma doing laundry.

“Welcome back. Did you guys have a nice date?” she said, doing her job of teasing way too well.

“It wasn’t a date,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pocket, but I was caught off guard by the pain and utterly failed to hide it.

“What’s wrong?”

Looking up at her, “Nothing, I just scraped my hands a little.” I walked past her to get to my room, but I didn’t make it halfway before she marched in front of me and held out her hands. Her laser beam eyes aimed directly at me.

“Your hands. Let me see them.”

 

As expected.

 

“Why? It’s not a big deal.”

I moved around her, but she blocked me off again, which only upset her and turned her laser beams up to eleven.

“Then let me see them.”

 

Far smarter and perceptive than we give her credit for.

She isn’t going to give up on this.

 

I broke eye contact, “Why do you need to see them if it’s not a big deal.”

“Because I know you always hide your hands when you get into a fight. I’m not going to ask again.”

 

This is a lost cause.

We’ll do more damage if we try to hide it, and she’d find out regardless even if we did.

It’d be best to show her now.

 

Freezing up, “Promise you won’t tell Mom?”

“Show me first, then we’ll talk about it.”

Both of my hands stung like mad when I pulled them out. She grabbed them to inspect, and threw my hands down almost as soon as she saw them.

“For fucks sake. Who did you beat up this time?”

Furrowed brow and narrow eyes. Her tone sunk my heart.

“I didn’t mean for it to get that bad. I just- I wanted them to stop something but they wouldn’t. I’m even trying to make it up to them though. I brought their chair project home and I’m going to fix it up.”

Her glare didn’t budge an inch. “You’re not dodging the question. Tell me who you beat up right now.”

My eyes looked everywhere except towards Emma. “I got into a fight with a kid in my class, but he started it! He hit me in the face with a piece of wood,” I said, pointing to where Robbie got that cheap shot in. “Can’t you see a mark?”

She leaned in close, “And how am I supposed to know that this isn’t after you started the fight?” Emma asked while looking at me like I’m some kind of criminal.

“I didn’t start the fight though! He hit me and I was just trying to defend myself.”

“It’s hard to believe you when I know you lie about this stuff. Besides, what did you do to make him hit you?”

Gripping my hands together, “He was trying to make fun of me, so we got into a fight and his chair kinda broke. That’s when he hit me with the arm and everything happened. But I brought it home to fix it.”

“And are you the reason the chair broke in the first place?”

My hand grabbed my arm across my chest. “Yes…”

“Where’s the chair?” she asked as far more a demand than a question.

 “In the garage.”

“Follow me,” she said, grabbing my wrist to take me outside and open the garage door.

“How did you end up with this in the first place?” She asked, eyeing me again.

“They let me help with it.”

“If you lie to me one more time, then I’m grounding you from woodworking and drawing for a month, and I’ll tell mom.” Emma said immediately after I finished talking.

“They left it behind when they walked back to their house...”

Her threat hit the mark way too deep, and the glare of a pissed off big sister burned a hole right through me.

“So this wasn’t even at school?”

“Not really…”

“If this wasn’t at school, then you could have just walked away, couldn’t you?” She crossed her arms and looked down at me.

“Yeah, but-”

“Stop it with the excuses. I know you had it bad, but you’re almost sixteen now. What do you think is going to happen if you keep doing this when you’re older? You’ll get in serious trouble. But you also promised us that you were not going to do this shit anymore. Who did you beat up? I want a name.”

 

Tell her it was Robbie.

We can’t afford to hide it.

 

“It was Robbie...”

“You mean the same kid you’ve been hanging out with? I swear Kendall if you’ve been causing trouble for him this whole time.”

“No. I promise,” I said as my thumb tapped against my leg. “It’s nothing like that. It was only a one-time thing…”

She stood up straight, “You better not be lying to me.”

“I’m not…”

“Then you’re going to make it up to him. You’re going to apologize and hope he forgives you for this.”

As if everything didn’t already make me feel like crap. “I’ll make it up to him. I promise.”

“If you’re in a situation where you can walk away, you better walk away next time. I’m giving

“you one last chance to promise me that this will never happen again and actually mean it. If you do, then I won’t tell Mom.”

My fists clenched tight enough to dig my fingernails into my palm.

“I promise I won’t get into any more fights.”

“Good, because if you ever do something like this again, then it’s going to be a much worse punishment than just grounding you. Got it?”

That lump I’ve barely been able to fight off came back and made an already terrible situation that much worse. “I got it…”

“Alright, now go do whatever you need to to fix up your hands,” she said, making her way back inside the house without another word.

 

We got lucky this time.

We can’t let this ever happen again, nor can we allow Mom to see our hands.

 

Are you kidding me? You’re the reason I got like that in the first place! If I never got you, then I never would have gone that far.

 

Blaming others for our actions?

We have so much work to do.

Now get inside before Mom gets home.

 

That’s not what-

 

We don’t care if that’s not what we wanted to hear.

Our actions were terrible, despite repeatedly telling us to stop.

We need to take responsibility.

 

There wasn’t a comeback for that, because it’s true, even if I hated it. Closing up the garage, I went back inside, walked to the cabinet to take a couple of my sleeping pills, and gave Emma one last hug.

“I’m going to go to bed early tonight. I’m sorry for all this...”

She sighed and returned the hug.

“I know you are, but this is serious. You can get in big trouble and that’s the last thing I want to happen to you. I mean it when I say this can never happen again.”

“I know,” I said, hugging her tighter. “Love youuu...”

 “And I love you too. Now go and do what you do.”

After cleaning my hands in the bathroom, I went to lock myself in my room. Drawing was out of the question with how bad my hands were, meaning my only real option was to lay in bed and let my mind run free.

 

---

“I love you so much.”

---

 

How am I going to fix his chair? I need to redo the arm entirely.

 

---

“You’re my favorite mistake.”

---

 

 The screws were bad as well. And there were some boards that needed to be replaced. And the leg that broke.

 

---

“Don’t you ever forget.”

---

 

And I only had a couple of days to finish it.

 

---

“We’ll do this for as long as you live.”

---

 

Thinking about work alone wasn't enough, so I had to fall back on my last resort, and the reason I kept my nails long.

My hand traveled to my upper arm and clenched down. Hard enough to make the pain be the only thing on my mind, but soft enough to not draw blood. My big rule was to never draw blood.

My nails dug deep, and every time I got used to the pain, I clung onto another spot.

I guess I should’ve been thankful my hands already hurt, since they added to the pain, but my fingers didn’t leave my arm until I could fall asleep.

I laid there awake for hours.

 

---

Authors notes: Thank you for reading this chapter. This had certainly been one that a lot of work has gone into. More so than other earlier chapters, and that's because of the fight between Kendall and Robbie. When writing this, the biggest goal was to make it brutal, but not so much that it makes Kendall irredeemable and utterly unlikable. Hopefully that goal has been met. The first draft for this was really something. It was almost cartoony villain levels, but as drafts went on, the fight became less and less physical. It instead focused much more on verbal and emotional attacks. This change in direction was to make it more in line with Kendall's own abuse, and to make Kendall not seem like a psychotic brute. It took around five entire rewrites of the fight to get it to the point where it's at now, but I'm happy where it's at now.

And then there's the scene with Emma and Kendall. This was something of a 'got it on the first try' moment, which was wonderful, because I told myself I was done editing this chapter after only the third rewrite of the fight scene.

Thank you all again, and we look forward to putting out next weeks chapter.